Inside the Champions Dinner

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From burgers to BBQ, roasted elk to enchiladas, this annual feast is among the most secretive events in golf.

 

Only 31 invitations will be sent this year. And, however many guests actually show up, only one of those present, Augusta National chairman Billy Payne, will not know what it feels like to win the year’s first Major. The Champion’s Dinner at the Masters is a select group right enough.

Back in 1952, it was the late Ben Hogan who introduced the idea of a Tuesdayevening- of-Masters-week annual gettogether for those fortunate and skilled enough to own a Green Jacket, or ‘green coat’ as it is known in formal Masters parlance. The tradition – a favourite word at a Masters that even now clearly feels a little touchy about its relative youth compared with the three other Grand Slam events – is that the defending champion both chooses the menu and foots the bill for whatever concoction he dreams up for the delectation of his fellow guests.

Over the years, a wide variety of foodstuffs have been served, nearly all of them offering strong hints as to the national heritage of the host. In 1998, the then 22-year-old Tiger Woods’ choice was cheeseburgers, fries and milkshakes. Ben Crenshaw not surprisingly opted for Texas Barbeque. Mike Weir presented roasted elk. Bernhard Langer’s stereotypical main course was weiner schnitzel. Nick Faldo did likewise with tomato soup followed by fish and chips, as did José Maria Olazábal with his choice of paella. And Sandy Lyle, of course, went for haggis, mashed tatties (potatoes) and neeps (turnips). The only cliché missing was a deep-fried Mars Bar.

In turn, the talk around the long table in the clubhouse tends to be far from formal. Since taking over from the late Byron Nelson four years ago, unofficial host Crenshaw presides over an oftenirreverent gathering of golfing greats. No one these days matches the late Sam Snead for bawdy humour – the ‘Slammer’ was (in)famous for the tastelessness of his tales – but a fair amount of needling still takes place. “It’s changed dramatically from 20 years ago,” points out 1982 champion Craig Stadler. “You don’t have Claude (Harmon) or Sam telling jokes all night long. It’s more businesslike now. But it’s still a treat.”

And there can still be an edge to the proceedings. Take last year, when twotime champion Phil Mickelson got stuck into three-time winner Faldo. Standing next to the six-time Major winner for yet another tradition – the official photograph – the present world No.2 didn’t miss the past number one. The trash-talking conversation went something like this:

Phil (loud enough for everyone to hear): “Gee Nick, I didn’t realise that you are such a big guy. How come you used to hit it so short?”
Faldo: “Listen Phil, when you shoot 19 under par to win The Open at St Andrews you can start giving me a hard time.”
Phil: “I understand that. But how come you hit it like such a pussy?”
Faldo: “I played golf the proper way.”
Phil: “Yeah, like my wife.”

Later that same evening, the atmosphere turned more sombre, when Olazábal read out a moving letter from an ailing and sadly absent Seve Ballesteros. More usually, however, the most common feeling among those for whom the dinner has long been a part of their Masters routine, is awe. “It’s daunting, looking down that big, long table and it is 40-odd guys, filled with names you are familiar with, old and new,” says the 1988 champion, an arithmetically-challenged Lyle. “It’s Arnold, Gary, Jack. It’s a one-of-a-kind gathering of those types of golfers.”

Mark O’Meara, who won in 1998, is another humbled by his surroundings. “For a guy who used to wash cars at Mission Viejo Country Club, it’s heady stuff,” says the former Open champion.

“The first time I was there I wouldn’t open my mouth in front of those guys. I kept it pretty well shut. “Deep down, I pretty much thought I’d never be there, or belong there. To be included with those great champions, to see them and hear them up close, and to be in that historic clubhouse, I’m like, every time I go there, I am still blown away.”

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