Masters 2026: 4 early observations from the ground at Augusta National

AUGUSTA, Ga. — It is the first and most essential fact of golf’s first major: Nothing ever changes at the Masters.

Unless, of course, you’ve been lucky enough to step foot on the ground at Augusta National more than once. It’s around this time you realize that everything changes at the Masters, all the time, from the enormous, white-shuttered structures that rise and fall without a whisper, to the shapes and pigments and angles and contours of the golf course that has hosted the tournament annually for nine decades.

Yes, change is the way of the world — and especially so at Augusta National on Masters Monday, the same day the golf world arrives for the first time after 360 some-odd lonely days without it. And after a 4 a.m. wakeup, 6 a.m. flight, 2.5-hour drive and brief changing session in the parking lot, change is what I found on this Masters Monday, a surprisingly mild one from Augusta National.

1. A new sign

The signs are an impressively significant part of the Masters tradition — written in careful Masters typeface and carrying a highly specific tone. But on a stroll throughout the golf course on Monday afternoon, I spotted one I had not seen in my previous five journeys to Augusta, a sign that came with ample foreboding.

Alcohol Sales Will End At 5 P.M.

A Masters volunteer carried the sign on a placard near the first tee box, and I later found the message had made its way throughout the grounds on tournament Monday, when one group of men made a beeline for the concession stand in Amen Corner.

“I hope it’s not 5!!”

2. Construction craziness

It is not hard to earn an appreciation for the new Player Services Building — a new, multi-million dollar player performance center that sprouted from thin air sometime between last April and Monday morning. To the trained eye, the new building sticks out on the horizon like a sore thumb, looming over the far end of the practice range as an omnipresent reminder that Augusta National can — and very often does — summon gleaming new buildings from the earth with impressive nonchalance.

Of course, to the normal eye, the building is not a sore thumb — far from it. It fits into the Masters’ white-shutter-and-black-shingle aesthetic like a glove, and provides no shortage of pampering for golfers in the sport’s first major. In other words, it’s a worthy addition to a growing city of identical white buildings used to house the biggest week in golf. And hey, maybe the members can get a nice gym out of it during the offseason.

3. Candy Crush

The biggest addition to the Masters this year is not a player or a pin location — it’s a piece of candy. Masters-themed candy. And today I did the honors of trying the new Masters “Candy Bar” — a dark chocolate, caramel, rice crisp and hazelnut crunch offering from Atlanta-based Bitzel’s Chocolate.

Long story short, it’s delicious. I will likely eat at least five of them before the week is out. Though I do wish it was sea salt on top of the candy bar instead of hazelnut, both for our tree allergy kings and queens and for adding a little savory tang to balance out the candy bar’s sweetness.

4. A caddie cabaret

Late on Monday afternoon in Amen Corner, the glorious green of the 11-13th holes was replaced by a troupe in white robes — attire belonging to a half-dozen of Augusta National’s caddies. The group was led by Scottie Scheffler supercaddie Ted Scott, who spent a long while on each green recording the undulations in the green. (This, I suppose, is the sort of unheralded work that brings your partner four green jackets.)

It was funny to see the rest of the caddies (including loopers for Jason Day and Min Woo Lee) following Scott’s lead on the 12th green. Together, they walked in a carefully calculated tango around the putting surface as they each gathered intel for the week, scribbling distances and other obscure bits of information into their yardage books. Maybe this moment will mean nothing come Sunday afternoon, but nobody knows that on Monday afternoon — and they’d certainly not prefer to spend Sunday evening wishing they’d been here for a few minutes longer.