Augusta.
Sigh.
Yep, attending the Masters is on my bucket list.
If you’re not aware, you can’t just buy reasonably priced tickets to the Masters. You have to win a lottery. My dad went one year when I was young, but I think it was easier back then to attend. Now, I think it might be easier to nab an invitation to fly to the moon with Jeff Bezos.
If you watch the viewing gallery at the Masters, it’s like the good-looking section at Tiato’s, from season 10, episode seven of “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” Everyone is beautiful, fit and well-groomed, nary a unibrow, humpback or protruding beer belly to be found. This is by design. God forbid the cameras pick up someone from the Ugly Section.
This is my opinion, of course, emanating from my twisted brain. But obtaining tix for the final rounds of the Masters are second only in difficulty to Super Bowl tickets. Keep in mind you can always pay on StubHub, if you have thousands of dollars to burn, but the lottery keeps prices within a reasonable range.
Here are some social media postings about the disappointment in finding out every July that you will most likely NEVER leave the Ugly Section. I feel all of their pain:
For the 18th year in a row, I got a disappointing email at the end of the first week in July. It looks like I ain’t going to the Masters tournament in 2019 either. Oh well. The sheer law of averages says I will have to win the ticket lottery one day.
Losing the Masters Ticket Lottery. A tradition unlike any other.
Bought myself $100 worth of stuff I probably don’t need on Amazon to make myself feel better about not getting in the Masters lottery. Life’s all about balance folks.
Can @MerriamWebster just amend “disappointment” to this rejection, already? Thanks. #Masters.
Everyone in our family has a separate account, and we all sign up using different addresses, because desperate times call for desperate measures. Then we have a contest to see who gets rejected LAST, because that person obviously had more VIP status then the Morlocks who came before him. It’s a fun time, to goad each other to see who is the biggest loser.
I won last year. I was rejected last. Take THAT.
But I will never give up hoping, NEVER! 2022 is my year, I’m telling you…