How the Masters outshines the rest as golf’s best major

Ask Gary Player a question. Chances are, the reply is not the expected one.

Why, just the other day, a journalist inquired about how he ranked golf’s major championships, and he responded: Open, U.S. Open, PGA Championship and Masters in that order.

Ridiculous, said the legion of golf aficionados who pay homage to Augusta National Golf Club, the Masters and the green jacket each spring. Gary is 87 years old and might be losing it, they figured.

But another legend — well, The Legend — offered his opinion and mostly agreed. Jack Nicklaus altered the order of the first two, placing the U.S. Open first, followed by the Open, PGA, and Masters.

They’re correct in their placement of the Masters — if strength of field is the determining factor. With a limited field on the 90-player range that includes multiple amateurs, only a handful who tee off on Thursday at Augusta in April can realistically hope to leave Sunday with a green jacket added to the wardrobe.

Consider all other elements, though, and they could not be more wrong.

Yes, “wrong” is an absolute and requires no qualifier, but emphasis — more wrong — is needed here.

Indeed, rising to defend the Masters ranks among the easier tasks around.

Tradition, symbolism, the itchy anticipation, magic moments etched in the minds and a museum of a golf course outweigh longevity all day long. Offer those arguments, and the jury of public opinion would return a favorable verdict in the twinkling of an eye.

The Masters’ magic ingredient: playing the championship at the same golf course every year.

The other majors hopscotch to various sites, most of them among the finest courses in the world. But where’s the continuity?

How can Matt Fitzpatrick’s marvelous 9-iron at the last in the 2022 U.S. Open be compared to any shot in this year’s Open at Los Angeles Country Club? The Pinehurst Opens have Payne Stewart’s putt on No. 18, but what else?

Magic moments at Augusta National are like Ol’ Man River. They just keep coming and coming.

Go back to 1935, to the second tournament of what would become the Masters, and envision Gene Sarazen on the 15th fairway. He swung, the ball cleared the water and found the hole — a double-eagle quickly dubbed “the shot heard ’round the world.”

Same hole, 51 years later. Nicklaus, now the Olden Bear, is on the prowl one more time. Nicklaus asked his caddie, son Jackie, “You think a 3 (eagle) would go very far here?” Jackie replied, “Let’s see it.” And we did.

Come to think of it, Nicklaus moments at the Masters would occupy a full-length book by themselves. There’s the Bear Tracks moment on the 16th green in 1975, his playoff comment in ’66 that “I’ve blown this tournament three times and don’t intend to blow it again,” or his ’65 performance that prompted Bobby Jones’ observation that “he plays a game with which I am not familiar.”

The thing is, course changes — the longer 13th hole this year, for example — provide some similar challenges for today’s players that tested the Sneads, Sarazens and Hogans.

“Well, (the course) has been changed from the way it was, thank goodness” the late Hootie Johnson said during his reign as Masters chairman. Without the added length, he said the pros “would be driving 17, and Tiger Woods almost drove 18” in 2005.

But the changes allow tests against time, and return to No. 15 for illustrations.

With the possibility, however remote, of overtaking Bernhard Langer in 1993, Chip Beck laid up rather than gamble for eagle. In ’86, after Nicklaus’ eagle, Seve Ballesteros blew his changes with a water ball.

Comparisons translate into the Augusta National Women’s Amateur. Just last week, holding a two-shot lead, Rose Zhang, the world’s top-ranked women’s amateur, went for the green and found the water instead. Seve? No; although she lost the lead, she prevailed in a playoff.

The hole largely the same in the 87th Masters as in the first tournament? The par-3 12th. The tee has been moved a bit, but winds still swirl and championships go here to die.

There’s everything from Tom Weiskopf’s 13 to Fred Couples’ ball miraculous stopping on Rae’s Creek’s shaved bank. There’s Jordan Spieth blowing the 2016 title and player after player finding the water in 2019. Tiger Woods summed up his victory that year this way: “They hit it in the water and I didn’t.”

Go hole by hole, and magic moments abound. Jon Rahm’s four-putt at No. 1 got attention, but that didn’t compared with Ernie Els’ disaster — a six-putt for 9.

On the par-5 second, use Louis Oosthuizen’s strategy: a 4-iron from 253 yards that hits the front of the green, rolls forward before catching the slope and diving into the cup. Or Nick Faldo’s: Sink a putt from 100 feet.

On the third ... well, lists and legends grow and grow. There’s Tiger’s “win for the ages” and ... where to stop? Throw in the symbolism — the hope that comes with another spring of the year. Add the audience: Demand for badges is off the charts and television ratings dwarf the competition.

The other majors have no answers.

And so, when the rain finally stops, expect more magic in the 87th Masters’ final round. That, too, is a tradition.