It used to be fun, the Masters Tournament. All gone with the wind, now, much like the movie. First-class golf in a third-rate city.
This year’s affair, assuming they don’t cuck out like they did last spring, runs from April 8th through the 11th. The wah-myn, kidz, and practice rounds are sometime sooner. Maybe. Whatever.
You won’t be there, regardless, as attendance is “limited” this 85th outing. The mention was made of some sort of pandemic(???), but I insist this is an advanced edition of what the near-future master plan looks like.
On the ground, it’s the usual COVIDian bullshit: masks, mandatory testing, “vaccines,” no cash, etc. No cash, no weapons, and the masks make cigar-puffing nigh on impossible. Starting to sound like a gulag with really swell landscaping and girls (six feet away) in those sundresses, no?
I have no idea about the parties. And no concerns either. We know who owns everything these days, so, where they had a party tent in years gone by, today we might expect a D-9 hard at work, and a cutesy, beflowered park tomorrow. Big. Whoop.
Just gotta go? I do not - ever again. But, you, not-so-well heeled golf-lovers, are pretty much SOL. Try the website. TeeVee is honestly your best bet. It’s on, right now, isn’t it?
*Oh, a follow-up, and great news (for me). Regarding your unctuous undertaker, you might recall my promise to dine with a certain banking executive. I did. However, I failed to note she is young and extremely attractive. She’s also overly pleasant, intelligent, and legitimately interesting. Naturally, your third-world political shenanigans were the furthest thing from my thoughts. Better luck, next time, for me, probably in New York.
I mean it used to be FUN. Picture © by Perrin Lovett.
- Perrin Lovett