Augusta's forever in my heart

At this time last year I was eating a turkey sandwich in Amen Corner with my best friend. Today, I'm at work with the first round of the Masters in full swing at Augusta.

I'm trying to not complain too much about it, but I'd be lying if I said my heart wasn't hurting a little bit today. I know how lucky I am. Most people don't get to walk onto Augusta National. And even fewer people get to witness the Sunday round of golf's most prestigious major. I was fortunate enough to do both.

My friend, LJ, who went to the Masters with me last year, feels a similar pain. This morning, just after the first round began we fired off a string of text messages reminiscing about our day in the gallery.

LJ: I know you are probably just getting up but I had to share my emotions with someone. I just watched Arno tee off. I'm a little misty eyed now.
STEPH: I know. We did not consider the after effects of Augusta.
LJ: I'm going to need counseling. I mean, I'm not in Augusta. What do I have to live for?
STEPH: Nothing. I miss the sandwiches.
LJ: I miss the old men.
STEPH: I miss that little Asian woman who slept on your feet at 18.
LJ: I do not miss that one.
STEPH: Just checking. I was planning medical attention if you miss that one.
LJ: I don't miss the roach that was on your bed either.
STEPH: Oh me either! I would have slept better if you actually killed it.
LJ: Ha! I totally forgot about that! Swing and a miss.
STEPH: And you didn't even trade beds with me.
LJ: Hell no! There was a killer roach on the loose.

As you can tell, our accommodations weren't five star, but it was still the trip of my life.