After getting to share my own Masters story in 2024, I received dozens of Masters memories from patrons across the world. This year, I wanted to help share those stories.
Working on a fun project for Masters week but I need your help! If you’ve been, I’d love to hear your story (big or small)! What it meant to you and what you remember most about that day! Would love any photos too!
Dm me if you’re interested!
— claire rogers (@kclairerogers) March 26, 2026
The result of my request? Almost 100 deeply personal and moving Masters stories in my inbox over the last few weeks. I’ll be sharing a handful of these write-ups every day this week.
Growing up at the Masters
I’ve been fortunate to go to the Masters over 10 times thanks to my Dad winning two series badges prior to the 2011 tournament. In a way, I’ve grown up at the Masters. It takes place just after my birthday each year and it’s something my dad and I count down the days to in the doldrums of December and when the first sights of spring come out in February. Our pictures in front of the clubhouse from 2011 to 2025 track my growth and his greying.

Jake Patterson
The 2019 Masters stands out to me as it was my last year as part of the “Junior Patron” program, where my Dad could bring me in for free along with his other ticketed guest. To celebrate that milestone after eight years of me tagging along with whomever he brought, he and I decided to wake up super early and plant chairs on No. 18 to watch the finish. We all know what happened that day, but what I’ll remember most is the pure silence just before Tiger finished his victory on the 18th. In all of my years at the Masters, that moment, sitting with my dad, sticks out to me because it was the first time I’d ever experienced complete and utter stillness at Augusta. As Tiger was lining up his final putt, I said to my dad, ‘if he misses this there’s a playoff,’ and right after I said that it was as if the lights went out in all of Georgia. It was like a wizard had cast a spell. I remember all the muttering and movement just…stopped.
The stillness lasted just a couple of seconds before pandemonium ensued; between our screams, my dad and I awkwardly hugged each other while straining our necks to catch glimpses of Tiger and his family just off 18. We walked out of the tournament to never-ending chants of ‘Tiger, Tiger, Tiger.’

Jake Patterson
It may seem strange, but my mind has gone back to that still and silent moment before and during major life events that I’ve shared with my father. Like when I hugged him one last time as he left me on my first day at UNC-Chapel Hill. As he sat in the driver’s seat and me in the passenger seat of his truck just south of Greenville, South Carolina after he received the call informing him that his mom, my “La-La,” had passed away. As we stepped onto the first tee together at the Old Course on a foggy Scottish day.
Sometimes, that scene 15 rows above the 18th green comes to me in moments without my dad, like before a big ECON 410 exam or my first day of a “real job” post-graduation.
It’s automatic, triggered in my psyche for significant moments. A little bit of the post-putt celebration occasionally creeps in but it’s mostly the stillness and the peace.
I’m not sure why I go back to those three or four fleeting seconds on a cloudy spring afternoon in Augusta. I think it might have something to do with me getting my driver’s license a little over a month after that day and from that point on spending decidedly less time with my dad. On a deeper, more “meta” level, I believe it’s because it’s the last real memory with my dad from my childhood, before COVID and college and then my entry into the workforce took over. Before I grew up without even realizing it.
In college I did a project on chain restaurants and their place in the American cultural experience. Chain restaurants provide a feeling of nostalgia which, ‘can be a way for the mind to self-regulate and navigate stress and uncertainty with purpose.’ While the Masters is the opposite of a chain restaurant, those idyllic, fleeting seconds with my dad have grounded me through the big moments of my navigation of adulthood and what it means to be on my own.
I know this memory will continue to pace me as I keep growing through life, as I lean on him for advice, thoughts, and comfort, just like I did when I was a 16-year-old kid. – Jake Patterson
A trip to Augusta through Johannesburg and a new mom’s Masters nap
I have been fortunate enough attend the Masters a handful of times. I’ve taken my wife, my father, my two lifelong best friends, a neighbor in Chapel Hill and then was lucky to be brought to the tournament in 2018 by a friend in Chapel Hill who had won practice-round tickets in the lottery.
The story is a bit long but I think the journey to The Masters, even as a patron, is what makes it special. Growing up in Grand Ledge, Mich., the golf season was short. The Masters always signified the ‘Official, Unofficial’ start of golf season in the Midwest, so it held significance beyond the tournament. I still remember watching the 1986 Masters and Jack Nicklaus raising his putter when he made his birdie putt on No. 17. I was eight years old. That same year, my dad brought me to the golf course for the first time and I raised my putter, just like Nicklaus, on every single green. The Masters quickly became my favorite sporting event. To attend was at the top of my all-time bucket list, especially after moving to Chapel Hill in 2011 with my wife, Ashlee. Living south of the Mason-Dixon Line made the event hit differently as I began meeting more and more people who had attended the event, and my dream to visit Augusta only grew.
My wife’s parents live in Greenville, S.C. They have close friends whose husband has worked the scoreboard behind the No. 11 green for decades. As a volunteer, he received tickets each year. My mother-in-law told them how much The Masters meant to me and if they ever weren’t going to use a ticket, that I would love it. Fast forward to 2013, and the friends let my mother-in-law know there was a chance they wouldn’t be using their Sunday tickets and to have me on standby. So Ashlee and I made the four-hour drive from Chapel Hill, clothes packed for a quick trip to Augusta, just in case. Sunday was the day and so we waited for the call. We waited and waited and waited, and with each passing hour, my dream faded. Around 4:00 p.m., while watching Adam Scott and Angel Cabrera battle on the second nine, my mother-in-law checked her text messages for the first time all day.
She had received a text at 8:30 a.m., ‘Dan can have our tickets today if he wants them!’
It’s hard to put into words the emotions I felt. I left the in-laws’ home and cried in the car. As I sat with tears in my eyes, I told myself, ‘This is never going to happen.’
Eleven months later, I’m in Johannesburg, South Africa with about 65 of my MBA students from UNC (I ran and taught in the online MBA program at the Kenan-Flagler Business School). My students were professionals from around the world and I was telling them my story of my 2013 Masters that wasn’t. One of my students was an executive for Caesars Entertainment, and the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. He said, ‘Dan, you want to go to the Masters? We send clients every year. I can get you tickets through our vendor partners so you can go this year.’ My jaw dropped as I didn’t think he was serious. But sure enough, shortly after returning to Chapel Hill, I received a call from the team that coordinates the tickets for Caesars, and I would have two passes for the final round in 2014.
I am serious when I tell you this: after my wedding day to my beautiful wife Ashlee and the day our son, Christopher, was born, my first trip to the Masters was the greatest day of my life. It has been 12 years and I still remember every single moment of that first trip. Walking through the back gate, seeing the grass for the first time, the magic of the secondary merchandise shop, the sausage biscuits! (Masters breakfast food items do not get the pub they deserve!) After spending a very modest amount at the merchandise shop on the backside of the grounds, we then walked to the course. Hallowed ground. As we made our way across the 14th fairway and began the walk up the 13th towards Amen Corner, I became very emotional. Upon reaching the apex of Amen Corner, I simply stopped and stared, and began to cry. The emotion of a lifelong dream, my favorite sporting event, being with my wife, four months after the birth of our first child, all culminated right there. There is no place on earth like Augusta National. It is something those of us who have been fortunate to see and experience truly understand. It’s a feeling. Every inch of the grounds is magical as you hear the echoes of past champions set amongst the pinnacle of what nature can be, all on the most famous golf course in the world.
I’ll never forget seeing the property for the first time. In true Masters fashion, we had a unique Augusta moment that Sunday. It was very hot that day, with a high sun. After walking the course, we settled into the grandstand overlooking the 14th tee and 13th green. We sat there early in the day as the first waves of players came through. Our son was born in November, so this was our first time away from him. Ashlee was exhausted. And in the warmth of the Georgia sun, she enjoyed her first two beers in over a year, and after a long walk around the course, she laid her head on my shoulder and fell asleep. You might ask, ‘Who falls asleep at the Masters?’ An exhausted new mom, that’s who! As patrons around me noticed her sleeping, I explained how she’s a new mother and this is her first nap in ages. They all began to whisper between shots instead of using their normal voices. They clapped quietly for players and made sure new patrons who joined the sitting area kept their volume down as there was a new mom that needed to rest.
At one of the most popular sporting events in the world, the patrons came together to make sure my wife Ashlee could get some rest.
Only at Augusta.
Only at The Masters.
There’s an important element to all of this that I think it’s important for your readers to understand: there is a downside to attending The Masters. It has been eight years since my last trip to August, and 12 since my first but I know realistically, I’ll never go again. It’s hard when you’ve been able to experience a truly perfect day that now more than ever, we should all experience, knowing that it will likely never be repeated. The Masters is the only place on earth I can truly leave work behind because it’s like you’re going to another world. The civility of the patrons. The friendliness of the staff. The calmness of the setting, And being truly unplugged with no phone. In a busy world filled with stress and anxiety, it is the one place where I’ve been able to truly breathe over the past 20 years. It is a very bittersweet feeling as all you want is to experience it one more time. I’ve cried over the beauty, been moved emotionally at the kindness towards a new mother and bonded with my father over the game he taught me. – Dan Bursch, Chapel Hill, N.C.
Showing a friend around Augusta National
When I first went to the Masters with my father-in-law in 2022, we knew we wouldn’t have much time because of the weather. I wanted to walk all 18 holes just to see the entire course. I remember coming down the 14th fairway toward the 14th tee, and you can see the 13th green across the creek. I said, “Oh my God,” because it suddenly hit me. I was standing in one of the true cathedrals of golf, where so much history has taken place.
The course is incredibly beautiful. It stopped me in my tracks and gave me this overwhelming sense of awe. My father-in-law is somewhat familiar with the game, so I got to explain the significance of what we were looking at. This made it even more special.
In 2023, I got to guide my friend around the course and watch him experience everything for the first time. It was one of those moments where it’s better to give than receive. I think I got more joy from watching him take it all in than I did from being there again myself.

Brad Stark
I’ll always remember calling my wife from the pay phones around the course. We were expecting our second child any day, and I had promised to check in with her throughout the day to make sure everything was okay.
The Masters is one of those events where you don’t know if you’ll ever get to go back. I really hope I do, but the odds are tough. I have a deep sense of gratitude that I was able to experience one of the true sanctuaries in sports.
It also has this unique feeling where it seems like not many people have actually been. It’s hard to describe it in a way that fully captures it. But when you meet someone who has been, there’s an instant connection. You both understand it because you’ve experienced it. – Brad Stark
A late father’s completed bucket list
The Masters means the world to me, my husband Philip, and his dad, Doug. Philip was born the Saturday of Jack’s sixth Masters win, so his birthday almost always falls during Masters week—and we always celebrate by leaning fully into it. His love of golf started on a local 9-hole course with his dad, and watching The Masters final round together became a family tradition.
Over the years, Doug was lucky enough to take three of his four kids to Augusta. In 2013, the year we joined him, he made a big point about leaving all electronics in the car—only to realize at the gate that he still had his iPod in his pocket. He had to run back, and we rushed in behind him, settling into the 16th grandstands. Within a minute, the first shot we saw was Bubba Watson’s hole-in-one.
Doug just beamed, convinced his iPod mishap had something to do with it. He spent the day showing us his favorite parts of the course, almost giddy, especially watching Jack, Arnie, and Gary play the Par 3 Contest together one last time. As Jack played, Doug retold the story of holding newborn Philip in the hospital during Jack’s Saturday charge.
Last February, we lost Doug to cancer. While going through his things, we found a bucket list — one item was to take all his kids to The Masters. That day in Augusta meant everything to us, not just because we were there, but because we helped fulfill one of his few wishes.
Looking back, it’s one of my core memories with him. Doug wasn’t one to show big emotions, but that day was different. I still think about him on those bleachers, smiling as Bubba’s ball dropped, and it reminds me how much he valued those simple moments — being together, sharing something he loved. – Savannah Kenney, Memphis, Tenn.

Savannah Kenney
A mom-to-be takes on Augusta National
I walked 18 holes while seven-months pregnant at the 2025 Masters. It was one of the most physically demanding experiences of my life! The staff at Augusta National was so nice to me. So many people said ‘congratulations!’ I remember making it to Amen Corner and thinking ‘there is no way I am going to make it back.’ Fortunately, a break in the stands with a pimento cheese sandwich was exactly what baby and I needed to rally for the rest of the journey. We’re excited to watch at home this year with our almost 1-year-old in his baby Masters merch.

Allison Arsenault
My husband’s late grandfather is the one who got me interested in golf. Every time we visited his house, he had golf on the TV. I’ll never forget watching Jordan Spieth win the Masters in 2015 with him. It was the first time I felt truly captivated watching golf, and listening to his conversation with my husband about the Masters, the traditions and their love of golf was part of the excitement and beauty of the experience.
When my son was born a couple months after our trip to Augusta National, we named him after my husband’s grandfather. Not only am I proud he gets to carry on the legacy of a man we both admired, but I look forward to passing on his love of golf too. I hope one day we can share the Masters with my son and share the story about his first visit to Augusta before he was even born! – Allison Arsenault, Atlanta, Ga.
A Masters proposal and a family tradition
In 2018, my girlfriend won the Masters ticket lottery for the Tuesday practice round. Her parents were engaged at the PGA Championship at Inverness in the 1980s and I was already planning on proposing, so I knew right away that that I’d have to carry on that little family tradition.
I asked the Augusta Chronicle if they could send a photographer to the right of the 12th tee grandstand at 10 a.m. I didn’t want my plan to be exposed at security, so my plan was to convince her we needed to hit the merch tent first, I would run everything back to the car (and get the ring) and then meet them at the 10th tee to walk to Amen Corner. We obviously spent way too much time at merch so we were running behind. I sprinted back to the car to get the ring. When I went back through security they made me take the box out and show them the contents. They said ‘are you proposing?’ I said ‘yes! And I’m late.’ They waved me through and I power-walked to the 10th hole.
We got there, I spotted the reporter and we nodded at each other. After getting into position, I popped the question and got a yes!
I am from western Pennsylvania and have always been a big Jim Furyk fan. My wife is from Columbus, just like Jim’s wife, Tabitha. After the proposal, they sent us a signed Masters flag wishing us well. – Stephen Fogle

Stephen Fogle
The integrity of Masters patrons
My wife has been a golf mom for a few years now and follows the PGA Tour more closely than I do. It was amazing to be at the 2025 Masters with her on Sunday morning at 3:30 a.m. to secure our seat on No. 18. But my favorite memory from the trip was some random guy on X seeing me and my son celebrating Bryson DeChambeau’s putt on No. 18 on Saturday to get within two of Rory. Even cooler that it was in the video the Masters posted!
The Masters never disappoints. To spend time there with my wife and two sons who love golf and show them the magic I had experienced three times before was incredible. What a finish on Sunday. I was almost in tears seeing what the victory meant to Rory McIlroy.
What means more than even all of that is that in such a cruel world, something like the Masters can exist. The respect that nearly every patron has for the course, the players and other patrons is like nothing else I have ever experienced, except for at church. To be able to leave my gnome and my wife’s purse on my chair on the 18th green all day Sunday while we explored the grounds is a testament to the integrity of everyone there. If everyone in the world could experience being on the grounds, the world would be a much better place. – Michael Benigni, Indianapolis, Ind.
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Disclaimer : This story is auto aggregated by a computer programme and has not been created or edited by DOWNTHENEWS. Publisher: golf.com





