For the fourth year, I’ve found myself immersed in The Masters Golf Tournament mayhem in Augusta, Georgia. This year is a bit different though, this year I am photographing everything outside the gate and instead of working for the local newspaper alongside five other photographers, I’m working solo for The New York Times. It’s a great challenge to me, just as photographing the golf action was.

Yesterday, sitting with a professional scalper (he follows major sporting events around the country), he offered me a $150 pass to get into the gates for free. He insisted I take it saying, “Oh, you’re a photographer, you’ve got to get inside. It’s beautiful. You can’t miss it.” I explained to him that I’d seen the immaculate grounds and hills of azaleas enough before… really, it’s those press room biscuits I’m missing. It’s odd, I don’t live in Augusta anymore and this is the first time I’m seeing how the city runs during the event.

And, as it turns out, you don’t even have to be inside the gates to see the green:

For the fourth year, I've found myself immersed in The Masters Golf Tournament mayhem in Augusta, Georgia. This year is a bit different though, this year I am photographing everything outside the gate and instead of working for the local newspaper alongside five other photographers, I'm working solo for The New York Times. It's ...