AUGUSTA — Luke and Laura arrived Monday morning to attend their first Masters. Luke and Laura aren’t their real names. They’re longtime friends of mine who scored one-day passes to Berckmans Place, the luxury premier hospitality playground adjacent to Augusta National’s 5th hole.
Berckmans Place (BP to insiders) is the ultimate entertainment area. It’s 90,000 square feet, has five restaurants and a four-hole putting course. A ticket to BP is $10,000, which is good for a maximum of 10 patrons. Berckmans ranks somewhere on the Augusta National Holy Grail List between Butler Cabin and Jim Nantz. I asked Luke and Laura to give me a full report, hence, they need secret identities for the purposes of this piece.
They got up before dawn Monday morning and made a lengthy drive from an adjacent state in order to pull into the special BP parking lot near Gate 10. There was a report that due to bad weather, the Masters gates might not open at 8:00. “I checked online at 8:01 and it said the gates were open,” Luke said. “Otherwise, we would’ve turned around and gone home.”
They arrived a few minutes after 9. They will never forget the first thing they saw at their first Masters.
A guy already walking back to the parking lot carrying what appeared to be a gnome under each arm.
“Are gnomes a thing?” Laura said, laughing. “I’ve never heard anything about these gnomes.”
Yes, gnomes are an inexplicable Masters phenomenon, a fad on the order of Elmo or Cabbage Patch Dolls, fueled in part by being so hard to get. They sell out quickly.
“There must’ve been 50 people going back to the parking lot already with clear plastic bags full of stuff,” Luke said. “You could see they had these gnomes. I guess the gnomes are limited to one to a customer but really, what’s up with that? That just doesn’t seem like a golf-crowd thing.”
Welcome to the Masters. After being surprised by March Gnome Madness, Luke and Laura walked up a small hill and into the BP entrance. It was a beehive of activity.
They noticed a merchandise shop to the right. There was a short line to enter.
“The line snaked for about 30 minutes; it wasn’t bad,” Luke said. “We were told by our hosts that the BP shop was much quieter than the big public shop by the clubhouse but we knew that wasn’t going to be the case. Everybody was antsy. One guy was saying, ‘Dude, we gotta get in here while we can. There’s a rumor that they might evacuate the course because of weather and if they close this down, we’re outta here.’ We shopped for about 20 minutes. So our first hour at Berckmans Place was all within 20 yards of the front door.”
The area was just as swank and classy as you might expect in a high-end store.
“It was like a nice golf course shop, not like a hospitality tent,” Luke said. “There was a fireplace with a mantel, all these vintage photographs. It’s a museum, really. There are photos of Bobby Jones. There was Phil Mickelson’s left-handed 6-iron. There was Adam Scott’s driver and Tiger Woods’s flip wedge from 2005.”
That was just the start. They saw a piece of the Eisenhower Tree, the famed tree that used to guard the 17th fairway. It was named after the late President because he was known for hitting it so often and jokingly, maybe, threatening to have it cut down. Luke estimated the Eisenhower Stump to be 4-and-a-half to 5 feet wide in diameter, framed and mounted.
“It really is like a museum,” Laura said. “People whisper in there like it is a museum.”
At your first Masters, or any Masters, friends know you’re going and they want souvenirs, usually clothes. The shopping experience has been reduced to a science at BP.
“They’ve got it streamlined,” Luke said. “You identify your shirt, they’ve got it ready to go, already wrapped. There are only a few things on the rack or a mannequin. What an operation. They put all your stuff in a clear plastic bag and they put the bag in a box. They don’t scan anything individually. Somehow, the box can read everything that’s inside—shirts, sweaters, hats. We bought a lot of clothing.”
Asked what their total was, Laura laughed. Luke didn’t. “It was about $3,500,” she said.
It adds up fast. Their purchases included several cashmere sweaters, one of which was a cashmere hoodie that she said cost $495 apiece. “All I could think of when I saw the cashmere hoodie was [Bill] Belichick,” Luke joked, referring to the former NFL coach’s famous sideline attire.
The BP items featuring the Masters logo are different from those available in the public merchandise shop. The Masters logo is a red flag sticking out of an outline of the U.S. that is shaded yellow. In the BP store, that U.S. outline isn’t yellow, it’s just blank.
“I bought a couple of hats,” Luke said, “and a guy there told me that when you take this out on the course, other people are going to want to know where you got it.”
Instead of carrying their purchases back to the car like the gnome-haulers, Luke and Laura opted to ship them home, a service provided in the shop. Then they realized they were hungry.
“It’s like being in Las Vegas,” Luke said. “There are no clocks anywhere. I don’t know what time it is. I don’t have my phone because phones aren’t allowed in. I can’t use my phone to check the weather. We just knew we had to get something to eat.”
They went to an area that he said resembled a food court, only better. They followed a stone walkway that went between restaurants on both sides. One had Italian food, one had seafood, Calamity Jane’s was the burger-fries-shake place and Ike’s was actually outdoors, a short walk down another path. It was still serving breakfast, the others weren’t.
“Wow, it was 11 o’clock already,” Luke said. “From Ike’s, you could see the putting greens. There were 30 or 40 people out there putting. We ordered food and while we waited, I went over to the starter shack to see if I could putt. It’s a four-hole putting course. They’ve got six staff bags full of putters—Scotty Cameron, Callaway, Odyssey, Ping, just about every model you can imagine. They hand you a Titleist Pro V1 and you go to the first tee.
“There was an attendant to help you on the first hole. He was pretty skilled. He said he was the head golf pro at a course in Philadelphia. He gave me the line for this 30-foot putt. He said, ‘Hit this four feet, then watch it roll in.’ Well, I hit it where he pointed to on the ground and that ball trickled and trickled right into the cup. First hole, hole-in-one! That pro walks the first two holes, then he passes you off to another guy for the other two. I said, ‘Do I get to keep the ball for making a hole-in-one?’ Nope. ‘How about the putter?’ Nope. ‘So what’s my prize for making an ace?’ He said, ‘A pat on the back.’ So I’ve got that going for me.”
While they were enjoying breakfast, the siren sounded. The course closed due to incoming weather and fans were forced to leave the grounds. Or, in this case, hang out inside Berckmans Place.
“The place is huge,” Luke said. “One restaurant has two floors. We didn’t go upstairs, that was the seafood place. It probably has an incredible balcony view. Each restaurant sat about 300 people or more and if thre’s 300 people eating, there’s another 100 working there. The service was incredible. It’s all free. No money changes hands, there’s no tipping. You go to the restroom, there’s a valet ready to hand you a towel.”
After breakfast, they stopped in at Calamity Jane’s and ordered desserts. Due to the crowding, they were paired up with a couple who live in Augusta just two miles from the club. They’ve been Masters regulars for nine years.
“You meet a lot of people, that’s the fun part,” Laura said. “And they all respect the game.”
The respect includes men being required to remove their hats in the dining areas. The bar areas have top-shelf alcohol. Luke had a beer. Laura had an Azalea, the Masters specialty of vodka, grenadine and lemonade. The grenadine colors it pink, hence the name Azalea. Laura said if you wanted another drink, you had to finish the one you had. No one was allowed to have multiple drinks in front of them.
“I was just so impressed by the experience and the hospitality everywhere,” Luke said. “I’ve been to so many different sporting events—Wimbledon, U.S. Opens, a lot of places. And here, everyone was so warm and friendly. There was no air of arrogance at all.
“For a once-a-year event, the level of staff and training and the quality of the workers was exceptional. And the building was immaculate. There wasn’t a scratch on the wall or the leather couches. The fireplace looked like someone cleaned it with a toothbrush.”
After dessert, Luke wandered out of the building to the gate that led to the course. It was still closed, the guard said. So Luke and Laura went back to the merchandise shop, where another shopping event broke out. Before I asked how much she spent, I told her about a tweet from a tour player who had visited the outdoor shop earlier and was proud of himself because he got out of there with a total that “didn’t have a comma.” In other words, under $1,000.
So how much did they spend this time? “We had a comma,” Laura said, laughing loudly. “About $1,300.”
What they took away from their experience was the joy that pervaded BP and the apparent camaraderie.
“There were greeters all over,” Luke said. “You’re walking and turn around and there’s someone in a green jacket right behind you. You’re almost intimidated but they ask, ‘How are you doing? Are you having fun? How can I help you?’ They’re just chatting with you like regular people.
“I saw Annika Sorenstam in the golf shop holding up a sweater to help a customer and later, I saw Annika carrying a tray with glasses on it, helping the staff. Cleaning up. People gave her high fives—well, not when she had the tray--or a little hug. She was very polite and approachable.”
Luke and Laura pulled out of the Berckmans Place parking lot at 3:00. The club had already announced that the course was not going to reopen Monday. It was a memorable day, Luke said, and Berckmans Place was incredible. It was also a disappointing day—Luke didn’t see Amen Corner or the big tree by the clubhouse or Rae’s Creek or the 16th hole or, well, any part of the course.
As a young man, Luke passed up several invites to attend the Masters as part of a group. He was a pretty good amateur player and said his attitude then was that he wasn’t going to Augusta until he earned his way there by making the U.S. Amateur final. That never happened. The opportunities slipped away. So did the years. Now, he regrets not tagging along on one of those trips.
Last fall, Luke needed a knee replacement, at which time doctors also discovered he had colon cancer. He’s in chemotherapy treatment and facing this new fight head-on.
“It took me 50 yards to get to the Masters,” Luke said. “I got within 100 yards of the fifth fairway today but the gate stayed closed.” Luke paused for effect, then added, “I got that close.”
Maybe next year. Augusta National will be here waiting. He’ll just need a 51st year (and maybe more commas) to see the rest of it.
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This article was originally published on www.si.com as Inside Berckmans Place, Augusta National’s Ultra-Exclusive Masters Enclave .
