Last week I talked about the Magic of the Masters. I want to give Trey full credit. I walked into his shop and he had a shirt hanging there that said, “You’re not Jack Nicklaus, and we’re not Augusta.” He’s right. But it got me thinking. If we’re not Augusta… then what is our Augusta?

Most of us won’t operate at that level of scale. We don’t have miles of azaleas, a Sub air system under our crosswalks, a heating system under our practice tee, or a volunteer army in green jackets. But that doesn’t mean we’re off the hook. Every place—every person—has a chance to create something memorable. It just requires the same thing Augusta leans on: vision, intentionality, and care.

Augusta doesn’t impress people by doing more (OK, yeah they do, but roll with it)—it impresses by doing everything with care. Who is their focal point? It sure feels like it’s me when I’m there. And yet, I’m just one of 40,000. That’s the lesson. That’s the playbook. And it’s not reserved for golf royalty. You and I can do that. Right where we are.

You don’t need a SubAir system to create an elevated experience. No Magnolia Drive. No Amen Corner. But you can do something to separate your facility from the rest. You can make someone feel welcome before they even say a word. You can create an environment that’s clean, calming, and confident. You can design an interaction that doesn’t just check boxes—it leaves a mark. Something they talk about on the ride home. Something that stays with them longer than the scorecard.

So what does that look like in your world?

Maybe it’s how you prep your facility each morning like it’s opening day. Maybe it’s how you train your team to anticipate needs before they’re spoken. Maybe it’s the handwritten note you send, or the way you remember someone’s name. Maybe it’s how you create a space that feels calm when the rest of the world is noisy. Maybe it’s simply the consistency in how you show up—day after day.

Whatever it is, you get to decide.

Think of it like this. If someone says they’re playing “the Bear Trap,” or “the Snake Pit,” or “the Island Green,” or “the one with the red and white lighthouse”—you know exactly where they’re talking about. Instantly. Those places have been branded into the minds of golfers everywhere. But here’s the key: all of that was created. The Snake Pit? It’s just three holes on a resort course. Yes, they have some tour-level teeth—but the name, the imagery, the lore? That’s what made it a must-play. Same with the Stadium Course at PGA West. Pete Dye designed it, and #16 is a long par 5 with a bunker down the left side that gives the word deep a new meaning, is 11 miles long, and was the foundation for the name of the hole—San Andreas Fault. And printed on the wall in the golf shop, you’ll find Pete’s quote: “The 16th hole on the Stadium Course has the deepest bunker this side of Mars.” That wasn’t an accident. That was part of the design. Part of the experience. All of this mystique—these emotional anchors—they were created after the course was built. After the grass was laid. That means it’s not too late for you. Not too late to create your own stories, your own traditions, your own version of the thing people can’t stop talking about.

You know what was also created? Augusta National. Was Amen Corner always Amen Corner? Nope. Not until players started falling apart there. #12? I saw pictures of it from the 1950s. Guess what wasn’t there? Flowers. It was just a blah-looking par 3. Fair to say that none of the beauty was there. They started with a little, people loved it, so they added more. It wasn’t always manicured like it is today—it wasn’t possible. But they had the vision to stay on the leading edge and provide an experience unlike any other. Augusta National’s Augusta-like moment became what we see today. But it wasn’t born that way. It was created.

Perhaps it’s your value. Or your history. Or your sense of tradition. Are you memorable? What makes you you? And what makes you stand out above the rest?

The question isn’t “How do we be like Augusta?” That’s not the goal. The better question is, “What’s the most Augusta-like version of what we do?” You don’t need green jackets. You need standards. You need awareness. And you need the commitment to care—especially when no one’s watching. Perhaps you already do that. Great. But can you take it to the next level? You can—and you should. Why? Because the day you stop improving is the day you start declining. If you’re already standing on the top rung, add another rung and climb higher. Ask yourself: What would Augusta do?

So thanks, Trey. You’re right—we’re not Augusta.
But we all get to decide what kind of place we are.

Be in the business of experience.
Not the “I’ve been doing it this way for 30 years” kind of experience.
The “I feel something indescribable” kind of experience.

Build something unforgettable.
Build your Masters magic.