Thursday, March 4, 2010


Masters' Week in Augusta means spring break for all schools and a departure from Augusta for Augustans while the world arrives. The question is will Tiger be there? I hope so! Many people think the Augusta National is a bit of heaven on earth with all the spring beauty on full display. But I bet you've never seen Augusta like this. These were taken on Friday, February 12 when my home town and a good part of Georgia had an unusual but quite beautiful snow fall.The snow was totally gone by mid day the next day!The Masters is always the first full week of April. Therefore sometimes it falls during Holy Week and sometimes during Easter Week. This year it will be Easter Week and believe me it won't look like this. A resurrection will have occurred. Enjoy:


kiwiinamerica said...

Hate it when Masters Week falls during Holy Week. Trying to focus on penance and the Passion and Death of Our Lord is difficult when the rest of Augusta is partying and making whoopee!

Golf takes precedence over such minor considerations, of course. Someone has to win the Green Jacket so Calvary must take a back seat.

In general, I'm amazed at the apparent ambivalence of Americans for Good Friday. Shops are open, golf is played and it's basically just another work day. In the culture from which I came, Good Friday is the holiest day of the year. Nothing moves.....not even the cat. Everything was closed and a totally somber mood took over the country. Not so in the US.


Gene said...

Ah, you remind me of T.S. Eliot's (an unapologetically Catholic poet) poem, "Choruses From the Rock:" "Here were decent,godless people...their only monuments the asphalt road and a thousand lost golf balls..." Golf is a secular religion, complete with nature imagery in the setting of lush greenery and azalea blossoms and a Green Jacket, for God's sake. People whisper with a reverence and awe, rarely seen during Mass, as some slightly paunchy "athlete" lines up a putt, and women bare their breasts (well, almost)in voluptuous exhortation as the hero weilds his big stick. Then, it is off to the 19th hole, where Dionysus reigns supreme, as the afore-mentioned voluptuaries become enraptured, as in religious ecstacy (also known as "sloppy drunk"). The spectators at golf events dress far better than most of the people I see at Holy Mass. I do hope that, if we are blessed with entry into Heaven, God allows us one peak over the precipice of Glory to observe these people in their chosen Eternity.

Gene said...

I misspelled "wield," and "peek." Can you fix it, Fr?