Hello, friends. Welcome to the best week of the sports year: Masters week. Five days of legend-making golf. The grass at Augusta looks greener than ever, and Jim Nantz’s silky smooth voice takes you away to Amen Corner as the best golfers in the world try to take their place in history.
Meanwhile, you’re stuck inside at your desk, forced to watch under fluorescent lighting while your golf-tan from the weekend slowly fades. Fortunately the internet exists, and you’re going to be glued to your monitor. RIP productivity. Struggle through Thursday and Friday, and just get to the weekend. No doubt the Hooter’s at the strip mall next door will have the Masters on TV. Take a long lunch and hunker down with some wings and stare longingly at the drink menu while you try to muster up the balls to order a gin & tonic at one o’clock on a Thursday afternoon.
The Par-3 Contest should throw a wrench in your Wednesday, too. Good thing it takes place in the late afternoon. Turn into a productivity machine early and try to look busy for the last couple of hours of work while watching the unofficial kickoff to the tournament on your computer. The abundance of kids during the Par-3 challenge might make you a little uneasy, but it’s golf. You can make due.
If you can survive the first two days of the tournament at work, you will have earned your rightful place on the couch for the rest of the weekend. Cold ones, pizza(s) and takeout. You’ve turned into your 80-year-old shut-in aunt, refusing to see your friends as you watch Tiger, Bubba and Phil work their magic and bomb drives on the dogwood holes, and watch the rookies and seasoned vets get tormented by the Golden Bell.
Never mind the countless times that Gary from accounting will stop by your desk to ask “How Phil’s doing” damn near every hour. You’ll begin to wonder if Gary knows how to use the internet, or if he still uses a flip phone. You humor him, though. This is The Masters after all. This is the most prestigious waste of time on the sports calendar. This isn’t Wrestlemania or some NASCAR race. It’s distinguished. Nobody will think less of you for tuning in to look at the ocular intercourse that is Augusta National every couple of minutes.
Maybe some big wig in your workplace will catch you looking at the Par-3 contest and strike up a conversation about golf with you. Next thing you know, the two of you are teeing off at his private club and three months later you’ve got a promotion. You’d be surprised how often that’s the case. Any businessman loves golf, and if you happen to let out a strategically timed fist pump, you might just find yourself hitting the links with the brass.
What would Masters week at the office be without the office Masters pool? It’d probably be Soviet Russia, that’s what. Get back that 50 spot you lost in the March Madness pool (goddamn Georgetown) and showcase your golf prowess, and by golf prowess I mean pray that you get to pick high enough to take Tiger.
Young folks are always on the lookout for ways to fill the time at work, and The Masters is a noble one. Outside of perhaps the Kentucky Derby, it’s the most distinguished sporting event in America and a worthy time-waster. Throw on that Titleist polo and strap on the golf watch, it’s Masters Week. Enjoy responsibly.