There are questions that are so obvious to answer they simply don’t need to be asked. “Would you like another free drink?”, “Are the Kennedys gun-shy?”, “Is the bear a Catholic?”, “Does the Pope...?” I'm sure you get my drift.
I came across another such example a couple months ago when out of the blue, I was asked if I would like to go to the Masters. Needless to say, I answered in the affirmative. Attending the Masters is probably on every true golf fan’s bucket list and now, safely if sadly back in Hong Kong, I can share my experiences regarding getting tickets, things to see and do and overall impressions.
Before I begin, I would say now that the tournament surpassed my highest expectations. I found myself giddy with excitement leading up to the event, which is quite something given that I'm no spring chicken. Everything about Augusta is heightened – and the memories I have when writing this are unbelievably vivid. It is, quite frankly, the best non-playing golfing experience of my life, a truly unforgettable few days. However, having told myself beforehand that it was a once-in-a-lifetime event, I'm now determined to go back – time and time again.
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