Welcome to SI Golf’s Bad Takes Week, where we suggest wild ideas to improve the game. Agree or disagree? Be sure to tell us on our X account.
There’s nothing on earth like Augusta National. It’s a golf dreamscape. Watching the Masters on television is special. Walking the grounds in person is surreal. The scene is unmatched.
But recent weather events have had an impact on the golf course. A little over a year ago Hurricane Helene slammed into East Georgia, uprooting trees, neighborhoods and families. It was tough, and for many Augustans the recovery continues.
Augusta National Golf Club still looked great post-hurricane last spring, even with a few more open spaces on the ground and in the skyline after the loss of numerous trees around the property.
For my annual terrible idea in this recurring series of terrible ideas, I’d like to go back to the aftermath of a different weather event that, while less damaging to the community than Helene, had serious ramifications on Augusta National that the club has not yet to rectified. Fortunately, I am here to help.
In February 2014, an ice storm blew into Augusta and dealt the final blow to a massive, albeit wobbly, loblolly pine tree that stood like a royal palace guard on the left side of the 17th fairway, about 200 yards from the tee box. Because President Dwight D. Eisenhower, an Augusta member, despised the tree and unsuccessfully lobbied the club to remove it—it wasn’t so much a tree as a giant catcher’s mitt that swatted down any tee shot that drifted into its path—the tree came to be nicknamed after him.
But in 2014 Mother Nature did the one thing that President Eisenhower and a near-century of wayward tee shots could not accomplish: it took down that 65-foot-tall tree.
Augusta sent out a somber press release with the news. It hit the right notes because it was indeed a huge bummer to lose that tree. Like Rae’s Creek, the narrow chute up the 18th fairway and the spot off the 10th fairway from which Bubba Watson hooked an iron to win in 2012, the Eisenhower Tree was one of Augusta’s dozens of nooks and crannies with a rich history. The tree told a story. And just like that, it was gone.
Augusta has done a fine job memorializing its famous landmark. There's a cross-section of the Eisenhower trunk on display at its Berckmans Place hospitality center. Another piece is on display at the Eisenhower Presidential Library in Kansas. At the 2015 Champions dinner, past Masters winners were gifted plaques made from the tree.
That was nice, but here’s the thing: while Masters aficionados may long for it, the 17th hole really misses that tree. It was a consequential obstacle to navigate on the golf course’s penultimate hole. It was the scene for many Masters moments, including Tiger Woods injuring his knee and Achilles while playing a shot from beneath its branches in 2011.
The tree was cool. It was interesting. It was something to see. It’s hard to believe it’s been gone for more than a decade.
So, can we be honest here? Enough time has now passed where it would be reasonable and even—it says here—celebrated if Augusta National were to honor history while restoring shot value, suspense and drama to the 17th hole. Losing the Eisenhower Tree stung, but an appropriate amount of time has passed.
Augusta National: it’s time to plant Little Ike.
The name is flexible, though I think it would make a fantastic tagline on Masters merchandise. They could even play off Eisenhower's popular presidential campaign slogan from the 1950s and reproduce his buttons. (Heck, many Augusta patrons probably voted for Eisenhower and would appreciate the connection.)
You tell me: how fast would these sell out?
But the sapling’s placement is non-negotiable. Little Ike should be a loblolly pine dropped into the earth near the site of the original Eisenhower, maybe another 10 or so yards up the fairway since today's players hit tee shots farther than in the previous era. If Augusta just so happened to preserve a few seedlings from the original Eisenhower Tree—which wouldn’t be a surprise—this is the time to use them.
According to my ChatGPT app, a loblolly pine grows 2 to 3 feet per year. I suggest Little Ike be planted as a 3-foot sapling. From there it would take about 20 years to reach the height of its predecessor.
So, it’ll be a while before Little Ike has any discernable effect on how the 17th hole is played, much less the outcome of a Masters. But in the meantime it will instantly become a tourist attraction, where patrons happily snap practice-round photos. Fans will return year after year. “Say, look how big Little Ike is getting,” they might say, like a proud uncle. “Looks strong and healthy,” others might add.
In the short term, it’ll all be sweet and enjoyable.
But Augusta will also be playing an effective long game, as eventually Little Ike will grow into something even more menacing and visually intimidating than the original. Loblollies that a properly maintained (we have full faith that ANGC will coddle Little Ike) can eclipse 100 feet. One day, at a Masters somewhere the future, Little Ike will have a say in who slips on a green jacket. The 17th hole will be more compelling than ever thanks to its taller and sturdier left-fairway guard.
But first, baby steps and a baby tree. Planting season in East Georgia is around the corner. See you in the spring.
This article was originally published on www.si.com as It’s Time for the Masters to Honor Tradition With One Key Improvement to Augusta National.
