A hot logo, curious about George, and bad music
Merchandise sales seem to have gone quite well at Augusta National, so if your uncle who attended the final round Sunday didn't get you exactly what you wanted, it may not have been his fault. The pro shop, main merchandise building and smaller merchandise shacks throughout the course were running out of some items. When I purchased a hat for a coworker Sunday, only a beige color remained at the location I visited and the pro shop was completely out of hats. Like most things for sale at Augusta National, the cost of merchandise is reasonable. The hat was only $20. In theory, the only place to buy merchandise with the Augusta National logo is at the course and mainly during Masters week (some people sell Augusta National merchandise on ebay). Club and tournament chairman Billy Payne said the club has at least flirted with the idea of making merchandise available online for a short window of time, but it’s not likely to happen this year.
In walking around a few front-nine holes early Sunday afternoon, curiosity got the better of me when I saw the name George Meyers listed with a Georgia-based phone number to the right of the scores on a scoreboard near the third green. So when I got back into the media center, I called it. As I suspected, it was a Masters Tournament number for Meyers to call to get information on some sort of emergency.
One of the most enjoyable things about covering tournaments such as the Masters is getting out of the office for a week. It was made especially enjoyable this week knowing I would no longer have to hear the annoying Masters theme ringtone of The Sun News sports designer Todd Garvin. The Masters theme can be a pleasant little piano-based ditty in moderation, but when you add the words that few have heard, not so much. Dave Loggins, of ``Please Come to Boston’’ fame, wrote the song around 1980 with the aid of photographer Frank Christian. You can read more about it and listen to it at: http://augustapool.com/masters_theme_song.htm
You should consider yourself priviliged to hear that tune every day. And how can you call yourself a lover of the links if you don't get that nostalgic feeling every time that little piano ditty breaks the silence?
Posted by: Todd Garvin | April 24, 2008 at 05:15 PM