1962 MASTERS AUGUSTA NATIONAL GOLF TICKET-ARNOLD PALMER
| Start Price |
USD 14.99 |
| Current Price |
USD 965.89 |
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| Bid Count |
7 |
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| Start Time |
Monday, June 30, 2008 |
| End Time |
Monday, July 07, 2008 |
| Location |
Garner, NC |
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See more about '1962 MASTERS AUGUSTA NATIONAL GOLF TICKET-ARNOLD PALMER'
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Description
Arnold Palmer (68) captured his third Masters title in the Tournament's first three-way playoff defeating defending champion Gary Player (71) and Dow Finsterwald (77). The cut was changed to low 44 plus ties. This ticket was used either by me, or someone in my family. It has been in my possessioin the entire time. The story is free..... “The Tunament” I grew up in Augusta in the 50's and 60's. For me, the Masters was mainly a social event, a place to see people I hadn't seen in a year. I called it a family reunion among friends. My earliest recollection of the Masters was 1963. My mother had rented a room to a couple of teachers, I think, that had come to see the Tunament. I don't remember much about them except they left me their tickets and that's probably when collection started. There are two basic types of patrons, walkers and sitters. I've always been a sitter and remember somehow picking the 18th green as the place to sit reasoning that it would be the best place since that was the finish. In those days we had the wide webbed, criss-crossed, aluminum folding chairs and you were smart to get there about 7:30 in the morning if you wanted the very best seat, but you had to be careful. Some people would show up early place their chairs and walk the rest of the day. We kinda looked down our noses at them cause they didn't have the guts to stay all day. It can be pretty boring to wait six or more hours for the first group to come through and some years, pretty hot to boot. The pseudo sitters got their due when they showed up late in the afternoon, muscled their way to the green, and found their chairs in the worst possible place because the hole had been moved after they left that morning! It never occurred to me that as a local 11 year old, I might be a little out of place. I just enjoyed the people I met and they seemed to like me. It's like a community when you're a sitter, especially when you're at the same hole year after year. Upon arrival, you start looking for the friends you knew from the year before even though you hadn't seen or heard from them since. I remember several years sitting with a retired General and his wife. I think his name was Ormond and he'd probably served with distinction during WWII. I mostly remember them as simply being 2 of the nicest people I'd ever met. You didn't worry about food, cause the stories you've heard are true, in that it was then as I'm told it is today, cheap. You even looked forward to that mayo-less egg salad sandwich you got only at the Masters. Year after year I'd be in the line to the concession stand and at least once hear someone from out-of-town remark about how reasonable the food was. Sodas were $.50, beer: $1.50-domestic, $2.00-imported. After a few years on 18 I wandered a little and found a few of my friends on 15. Besides being a place to meet, the bleachers on 15 meant I didn't have to drag that folding chair with me. One year 15 was quite a money making adventure. I discovered, with a friend's help, that I could poke a hole in the top edge of 2 drink cups, and tie em together at the top with a long piece of string and hoist drinks, food, or whatever up to the top of the bleachers where hungry/thirsty patrons were gladly paying generous tips to keep from having to climb down the stairs and trot over to the concession stand. I don't know how much I made or how much golf I missed. It lost its appeal after that year. I'm not sure exactly when the tunament got big and famous. I had heard that in the early years, as a favor to the National, many of the local merchants would buy quite a few more tickets than they wanted or needed just to help inflate the attendance. There wasn't any list either, open or closed. No one asked where'd you get your tickets, just whether or not you were going. It was still a big week. The schools were out for the entire week. The ROTC cadets worked as gallery and crossing guards and my buddy Hank and his dad worked on the scoreboard. Some years I walked a little, especially when I had someone with me that had never been. As a local, it was an honor and a privilege to show someone new around the course. As a matter of fact I don't know what grew faster, the tunament, or our pride in having it. To this day, one things that equals being a proud local patron ticket holder is the pride in providing the means for a first timer to see the tunnament. The ambivalent and nonchalant needn't bother. We know what we have, and if you're excited like a kid in a candy store, we're excited to make it happen for you. Most of my family has and has had tickets for years, and the stories we like to tell most aren't of the memorable golf, but of making the trip to the tournament happen for someone for the first time that sincerely appreciates it. And it's not just providing the tickets. If you've been able to scrounge up some tickets for someone you almost have to find them somewhere to stay too, because every motel, hotel, and private room available for 150 miles around Augusta has been booked, probably since the year before. I've never really been one to try to smooze or hob nob with golfers. In the early 60's many of the golfers rented homes in my neighborhood which was just a few miles from the National. I remember as a kid going house to house to get autographs, but I don't remember what I did with them or who the golfers were. I just remember when they opened the door, the shock thinking, “Good grief you're actually in my neighborhood!” Now, Paul Harney I remember. Paul stayed across the street with the Holcombs and usually had his whole clan with him. My Dad, step dad...Dad, was Catholic and used to joke that Paul was a good Catholic. I didn't really get the joke. I just remember he had his wife and 4 or five kids with him when he came. They were from Boston (I wasn't) and I used to be entranced when they talked...You know..different. What I remember most is they were so, so nice. They were always happy to see me, and I could hardly wait each year to see them. The first time I ever saw cut-off kid clubs was in Hank's backyard one time with one of his boys. I thought it was so cute...A four year old with a driver....Until he hit it straight as an arrow, across two yards....I wanted to smack him for being so effortlessly good, so young. I remember one year he set the cut and you'd of thought we'd died and gone to heaven. We were just bursting with pride. He didn't win, but it didn't matter. We loved him, his family, and the fact he got to enjoy a heck of a moment. Many of the locals rent their houses out. The Masters, to us, is like a second Christmas. Masters week, if you didn't go, you rented, went on vacation, or bunked in with family and went to the Tournament. The money's just too good. I don't know how many years my mother rented to CBS. It was quite a few and we'd usually stay with my grandparents. It was really cool when I learned to drive and could “pop over” for something I'd forgotten just to see what was going on. They were a hard working high livin bunch of guys. I think they were part of the production crew. I remember they were usually 3 or 4 staying, always cooking something, and always had quite a few half-gallons of this and that on the table. That was impressionable on a 16 year old from a family that really didn't drink. They'd sometimes leave souvenirs and the like. I've still got a small cigarette box with a clear plastic top with the Masters logo on it. Of course you guessed it, they were really nice too. I'm embarrassed to say I went for the socializing and even more embarrassed to admit, well into my 20's, I didn't really realize the magnitude of the Tunament until after going to many of them , and actually going to another professional golfing event. I won't name the North Carolina tournament, but I was shocked at the commercialism, the rowdiness (drunkenness), and the way people acted! That's when it hit me how fortunate I'd been, all those years to be able to go to the Masters and just how prestigious it is. And I can assure you, at the Masters, if you're watching it on television and you hear a, “You da man,” or some other obnoxious shout, solely intended to draw attention to themselves, it will be the last time they'll do that at the Masters. Most of us, as Patrons, were very particular about who used our tickets, because we all know, and it happens every year, if someone does something inappropriate, they're out and your tickets are gone for good! Unless they've changed things, the tickets will pass from spouse to spouse, but not to the children. Some of the stories you've heard are true. Patron holders on their death beds have written postdated checks in an attempt to keep the tickets coming after they've passed. In my family, after my mother passed, my sister even threatened to sue my Dad if he didn't change the way the tickets had been doled out. One year 2 for me, one for her. Then the next year 1 for me 2 for her. She wanted it change to all for her one year, none for me, and the opposite the next. I'd have to miss alternate years and didn't like that. Now the rumor about the National checking obits to thwart the postdated check writers...I don't know about that one. My last hoorah would have been in the 90's. I used to joke that I'd gotten out of radio because I couldn't take vacation during the Fall and Spring Books, and the Masters fell during the Spring Book (ratings), so I changed careers. I got into Real Estate. Those were some of the best years. My parents had just lost interest in renting . Too old. Too much of a hassle. My closest friends were still going. They were still using their parents tickets. Chris and Pam actually got on the list back in the 70's when there was one. It took them 20 years, but they started getting their own tickets. A test of patience on their part, typical honesty integrity on the National's. Stupidity on mine for not getting on the list that hasn't been open for year. I understand they have made more tickets available to current patrons. Pam's parents lived, I swear, right across Berkman Rd., and for a few wonderful years we'd meet at Pam's and walk across the street to the tunament! We got too busy, and my Dad's passing in 96 brought an end, probably for good, to that magical time, but the memories will last forever.
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