There is no tournament like the Masters, no place like the Augusta National Golf Club. History lurks through every valley, nostalgia oozes from each blade of finely manicured grass. Champions have come and gone, moments of glory and shots of ignominy have been discussed and remembered for decades.
But, through the 81-year history of what is arguably the most famous tournament in the world, the Masters has never seen anyone like Arnold Palmer. It wasn't just the four green jackets he won in a seven-year span that began in the late 1950s. Or the painful near-misses he endured on two other occasions.
It was his magnetism, his James Dean appearance, his matador style. It was his charm in victory and his grace in defeat. Most of all, it was the way he seemed to embrace the patrons _ that's what they call them at the Masters _ and the way they loved him in return. They stalked the fairways to get a glimpse of him, and the television cameras couldn't take their lens off him.
Arnold Palmer was a presence at the Masters for 62 years _ 50 as a player, 10 as an honorary starter, two for the time in between when he wasn't sure he wanted to hit the ceremonial first tee shot. Now, for the first time since 1954, he won't be at the Masters. And his absence will create a massive ache in the collective heart of all who will be in attendance this week at Augusta National.
Palmer died in September at the age of 87, and, seven months after the golf world grappled with his passing, they will do so again at the tournament he helped transform into a global treasure.
"I will be thinking of Arnie all week," said CBS sportscaster Jim Nantz, who has been broadcasting at the Masters for 32 years and developed a special friendship with Palmer.
So much about Palmer and his popularity, his impact on the game, was forged at the Masters.
It was his play in the valleys of Augusta National in 1958, when he won his first Masters, that inspired Sports Illustrated writer Herbert Warren Wind to use the expression "Amen Corner" to describe the action on holes 11, 12 and 13. "Arnie's Army," the nickname used to describe the gallery throngs that trampled fairways to watch their hero, was born in Augusta because of the soldiers at nearby Fort Gordon who manned the leaderboards at the Masters and openly rooted for their new-found hero.
The late Frank Chirkinian, who worked on and produced Masters telecasts on CBS for 40 years, famously spoke of how the camera fell in love with Palmer during his back-nine charge in 1960. "I thought, 'Holy mackerel, who is this guy?' He absolutely fired up the screen," Chirkinian once said. "It was quite obvious this was the star. It was electrifying."
It all happened at Augusta National. Palmer's legacy budded and flowered amid the pines and valleys like the azaleas in Amen Corner. It is true the great Bobby Jones founded the Masters. But it was Palmer, the son of a groundskeeper, who made it.
"It will never be the same," former two-time U.S. Open champion Curtis Strange said. "The tournament will go on and players will come and go, but there will be a void there, especially this year."
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