The start was running just a little behind time at the Masters this year, made three hours late by the storm that blew through early in the morning. It was 10am already when Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player and Tom Watson made it to the practice range, and just gone 10.15 when they walked from the clubhouse through the gallery to the 1st tee. Player stopped to press a ball into the palm of a lady waiting by the ropes. Her name was Barbara, and she was 88. “We’re the very same age,” she says, smiling like a little kid who’d just discovered the big presents tucked around the back of the Christmas tree.
Player gives her a kiss on the cheek on his way back in, too. Turns out this is one of his Masters traditions. “It’s the third time he’s done it,” Barbara says. “My husband said if he did it again this year then I shouldn’t come back home afterwards.”
