I grew up outside of Augusta. Masters week, of course, is the biggest week of the year in the area. I was fortunate to have access to my grandfather’s badges until he passed away when I was 27, so I’ve been to The Tournament numerous times. I’ve taken six different guys to The Masters in my lifetime, five of whom were “Masters Virgins.” There’s nothing like taking someone to The Tournament for the first time, and seeing the look on his face as he takes it all in.
Last weekend, both my sister and I were home for Easter, and it occurred to us that we had never been to The Tournament together. Since free child care was available for my niece and nephew from my dear mother, Lauren and I decided to head over The National on Monday and see if we could get into the practice round. We didn’t have tickets, and they were going for a minimum of $350 on Stub Hub, so we decided to take our chances with patrons who were leaving early for the day. We arrived around 12:30 and decided to scope out the scene outside of Gate 6. There were a few others around with the same plan as us (Mostly young guys wearing t-shirts. Come on now. T-shirts? This is The Masters). Lauren and I didn’t see the need to beg. We just stood around in our cute dresses, smiling and chatting with each other, and within five minutes a nice man asked us if we wanted his tickets since he and his young son were done for the day. Easy peasy. I love southerners.
Well, that was just the beginning. From the moment we crossed over #1, a group of guys in their late 20s started talking to Lauren and me. We both looked at each other and simultaneously asked “Do you know them?” Neither of us did. They were hitting on us, and we didn’t even realize it. My sister is 34, married, and a mother of two. She’s in good shape, especially to have a six month old, and is naturally pretty. I’m 31, attractive, and have a great tan year round since I live in southern California. Although not married, I am in a serious relationship, and my boyfriend and I don’t exactly frequent spots where I get hit on left and right. So basically, my sister and I acted like two snotty brats to these sweet southern gentlemen when they tried to talk to us. We stared blankly at each other and then walked off. A few seconds later, it finally registered that they were hitting on us, and that we are so far out of the game that we didn’t even know it. Wow. Talk about a reality check.
For the rest of the afternoon, countless groups of men smiled (gawked?) at us and would strike up conversations. My sister and I would smile back and engage in a quick conversation all the while enjoying the sweet satisfaction of knowing that even past 30, we’ve still got it. We didn’t flirt. After all, neither of us is single, but we did enjoy the attention. After a couple hours of this, it occurred to us that we had not seen another twosome (or group) of just girls at The Tournament the entire day. I would estimate that at least 75% of the adult patrons at the practice round that day were male. And the females in attendance were with their significant other. So Lauren and I stood out. Seriously. The Tournament is like live Tinder heaven for a single girl. And there’s NO competition! So this led me to compile a short, very doable list of “How to meet your husband at the Masters:”
Go with another girl.
This is a no brainer. Even if you take a guy friend, it will be assumed that you are together. Don’t even go with another couple. You may be mistaken for the girlfriend or it could be assumed that there’s another member of the party in the bathroom or beer line. No men allowed in your group. They will deter others from joining.
This is key. The Masters is a classy golf tournament. You aren’t at Coachella and you aren’t at the gym. I saw girls dressed for both. Lauren and I both wore conservative, brightly colored comfortable dresses and simple flat sandals, and we got countless compliments on our outfits from both men and women throughout the day. The Masters isn’t the time to show cleavage but honestly, take off the Lilly Pulitzer skort and golf shoes. Guys aren’t into that.
Smile and have fun
No one wants to approach a girl with a scowl on her face. My sister and I genuinely had a good time with each other, and it showed. As we walked from Amen Corner to #16, we were engaged in conversation, laughing and smiling, and we couldn’t keep guys away. It was like they wanted whatever Kool-Aid we were drinking. Two guys followed us from #16 all the way to the driving range and kept telling us how fun and refreshing it was to see two girls enjoying themselves but also being nice to them.
Keep your options open
Okay, so the foursome of guys in their late 40s is being nice to you. Sure they probably have money, but they also have on wedding rings (or at least the tan line from one). Get with the program, girlfriend. You can afford your own $4 beer. Stay true to the task at hand and politely tell these gentlemen goodbye and keep enjoying your girl time. The younger, single guys will find you.
Don’t drink too much
I’ve said it before, but I can’t stress it enough. The Masters is a classy golf tournament. You’re looking for your husband, not a one night stand. One year I saw a girl puking in a trash can as hundreds of patrons passed by her. Those types of antics will get you kicked out (and get your actual badges revoked if it’s the real tournament). Behave yourself.
Let’s be honest. You aren’t there for the golf. If you park yourself in the grandstands at Azalea for the afternoon, you’re limiting your options. Walk around and be seen. With that being said, do go spend some time on the hill at #16. It’s just plain fun.
So there you have it. Now go call your best friend and get to Augusta.