PERSPECTIVE FROM THE 19^TH HOLE: This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf. Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all of my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon, as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist. This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.

As I write this headline, things are different for the Masters golf tournament this year – and for almost everything else in our coronavirus-dominated world.

I’ll be sitting in my man cave watching past Master tournaments on TV instead of being wrapped up in the current one.

This year, there is no tournament, which, for me, always has been one of the rites of spring. It has been delayed until the fall and, I suppose, there is even a question about whether it will be played then, if at all, this year.

Sitting in my Masters chair, with my Master’s sweatshirt on, I’ll be able to see old versions of the tournament or perhaps just highlights on the Golf Channel, ESPN or CBS-TV.

Better than nothing.

A piece of good news is that I’ll be watching Masters coverage with my daughter, Lissy, who will be sitting in her Master’s chair drinking out of her Masters mug in the living room of her home in Woodinville, Washington.

The distance between Woodinville and Salem, Oregon, where I live, won’t get in the way of our mutual enjoyment.

It will take us back to the 2015 tournament when we had the privilege of living a life-long dream – attending the Masters in person.

We may never head to Augusta, Georgia again – though my daughter signs up for the lottery every year in hopes of getting tickets again – but the one trip in 2015 was worth the price of admission.

And, on occasion, that price was high.

As only one example, we stayed in a La Quinta Motel about a mile from the iconic Augusta National course. The regular price was about $50 per night. We paid $550 – and were happy to do so.

Among my fond Masters memories, three stand out.

• In 1997, as a 21-year-old player just out of college, Tiger
  Woods won his first Masters by an incredible 14 strokes. I am not necessarily a Woods fan, but it was hard not to marvel about this first Masters victory on his way to four titles, including one last year.
• In 2004, one of my daughter’s and my favorite players, Phil Mickelson, won his first Masters. Great stuff as he reveled in his victory by jumping about two inches off the ground, then welcoming his family on the 18^th green with a now-famous exclamation to his kids: “Daddy won!”
• In 1986, I was riveted to the screen as Jack Nicklaus, then 46 years old with son Jackie on the bag as caddy, played one of best final nine holes in history to win his sixth green jacket, the emblem of victory. I have watched this tournament several times since 1986 – including once this week — and doing so always brings tears to my eyes.

To get this Masters weekend off to a solid start, I read an essay by Thomas Boswell in the Washington Post this morning. The entire piece is worth reading, but here is how Boswell started his tome on the Masters:

“The Masters is about revealing, exposing, humiliating, improving, discovering, understanding and, sometimes, redeeming yourself. That’s what we will miss Sunday: The humanity — the spectrum of rejoicing, collapsing, coping, choking and recovering — even more than the golf.

“As the years pass, the memories of shots fade, but the images, emotions and words of the players become more vivid. The power of the personal story is almost always the unseen driver of the action at Augusta National. The Masters measures the arc of a life, not just the plane of a swing.”

Good words.

I’ll miss the Masters this weekend, but I’ll revel in the joint joy of the tournament with my daughter.

Our experience, either on TV or in person in 2015, will live on in our hearts and minds.