So, you’ve seen Augusta BEFORE Masters. The town begins to spruce up as we prepare for the onslaught of celebrities, commoners, foreigners and locals to make their way down Washington Road. The path to the nursery-turned-golf course is heavy on traffic during the first full week in April.
I had cause to return to Augusta National on Monday morning. Because many people return to help clean on Monday, I was allowed back on the grounds with the badge from the the tournament.
Just over twelve hours before, the course was filled with competitors and the sidelines filled with spectators, while hundreds of out front and behind the scene workers labored diligently to keep the facade in place.
But at ten o’clock Monday morning, flower boxes were barren and tents disassembled while portable Coca-cola refrigerated coolers were being moved onto trucks and removed from the property. Picnic tables were barren, gift shops empty and streets clear of golf carts that the day before buzzed to and fro.
But, the strangest sight to see was one of a cigarette box, crushed and alone in the middle of the street quite near the club house. That box would not have been there twenty-four hours earlier. Had that box been dropped the day before, it would have been picked up within minutes by someone on grounds duty.
Because people are looking, do I cover up, spruce up, or clean up only to become lax and lazy when I’m left alone to myself? Surely, it’s true. I certainly yearn to be clean, but do I put forth the effort that is required to keep myself there year round?
May I ask you a question: Is there between the times when people are watching, and the times when they are not?