We are fortunate at Were Talking Golf Radio to meet so many people around the country who share a passion and respect for the game of golf. I am very fortunate to have met one such gentleman this week. Richard Shirley is an accomplished banker and former Mayor from Anderson, SC which happens to be only 30 minutes from my home. Richard is also an avid, passionate golfer and 35 year patron of The Masters. When Golf World decided to host a Dream assignment contest, Richard decided to try his hand at writing. Not only did Richard make a solid impression but he won the contest. This proud member of Cobb’s Glen Country Club outlasted a field of several thousand from a publication that boasts over 1.5 million readers.

For a contest designed for non professionals, Richard’s article is anything but amateur. You will find his article to be as insightful and inspired as any article you will find regarding The Masters. Next week, Richard will travel to St. Andrews to cover The Open as a special correspondent for Golf World.

I have posted Richard’s article below. I know you will enjoy it as much as we did at Were Talking Golf Radio. Best of Luck Richard! Thank you for representing The Upstate with such class.

Radio Interview with Richard:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/weretalkinggolfradio/2010/07/09/wtg-radio-present-the-john-deere-first-tee-show

Article is Courtesy of Richard Shirley, Golf World, and Conde’ Nast

Richard Shirley – Winning Essay – Golf World Dream Assignment Contest

My first glimpse of Magnolia Lane was in 1975. I was a junior in college, but in terms of golfing knowledge, I was strictly a kindergartener. I knew the Masters was a big deal and I anticipated boundless beauty as I made my way through the turnstiles, but that was about it. Bobby Jones and Clifford Roberts could have been two Amway distributors for all I knew. President Eisenhower had left the White House when I was still learning to tie my shoes. I could not have cared less about his cabin, tree, or pond. I only had two missions that day…to see Arnold Palmer up close and personal and break the head off of Jack Nicklaus’ driver if given the chance! I was a card-carrying, nostril-flaring member of Arnie’s Army and Jack was the despised enemy!

After enjoying my first world-shaking taste of the green-wrapped egg salad sandwiches, I headed to the practice area. As I rounded the clubhouse, I found myself face-to-face with Mr. Nicklaus. I was two feet from the man and frozen to the ground! His driver was safe from destruction because I was motionless. He wasn’t as big as I presumed, but what an aura! I felt some my animosity melting on the spot, but I recovered quickly because shortly, it was time for The King to tee off. I made my way to the first hole and there he was! Mr. Palmer was everything I imagined and then some. Instantly, I accepted a lifetime commission into his army. If he had marched us all out onto Washington Road and asked us to take Augusta, we would have had the city under siege by nightfall! My allegiance was forged forever that day and 35 years has done nothing to diminish it.

Later in the weekend, I was watching the final round of that fateful tournament and grudgingly gave The Bear his due as he left his tracks on the 16th green while jumping his way to victory. In hindsight, it was the first time I possibly found room in my heart for Jack as well, but the thought felt treasonous to Arnie.

Fast forward now to the 1986 Masters. The tenth anniversary of my college graduation was approaching. I am married, three weeks away from becoming a father, and working a banking job. Making loans was a career, but golf was and still is my passion. Not only did I want to play daily, I also had a self-taught graduate degree in golfing lore. I knew the difference in an Old and Young Tom Morris, could distinguish between a Hogan or Sarazen bridge, and appreciated the talents and contributions of Mr. Palmer AND Mr. Nicklaus. As the latter took dead aim in that year’s final round at again the 16th hole, my sincere affection for the Golden Bear rose with a crescendo as his tee shot flirted with the pin! At that glorious moment, Jack sealed an unconditional exemption into my heart right beside Arnold.

Last week, I made another trek to Augusta. I am fortunate now to attend virtually every year. I have eaten enough egg salad sandwiches to declare “Poultry” as my race on the census survey. I have spent enough money in the Masters Golf Shop to be Billy Payne’s permanent member-guest partner. I now qualify for senior events, but I am still schoolgirl giddy over golf. This year’s visit to Augusta National had only one purpose. I reverently stood in line waiting for the gates to open so I could move to the first tee and watch two heroes serve as honorary starters for the first time together. At 7:40 on one of the prettiest Thursday mornings ever in Augusta, I was not disappointed. Arnie’s hitch and Jack’s methodical approach to the ball now show some age, but their allure is ageless. When they exited the tee box minutes later, my day on the grounds could have concluded as well. Woods, Mickelson, and the golfer du jour can come and go, but in my universe, the sun and moon had just appeared and left.

I can’t wait until 2030. Mr. Palmer will be 100, Mr. Nicklaus will be 90 and I’ll be 75. Getting up for a tee time at dawn will be challenging, but I’ll be there. By then, I will probably be on a cholesterol-free diet and the pleasure of the egg salad will be a distant memory, but the vision of last Thursday will be bakery fresh. Congratulations to the green jackets! A “tradition like no other” just got a damn sight better!