My First Time at Augusta Was For the Girls. I’d Have It No Other Way.

AUGUSTA, Ga. — As a life long golf fan, I've always dreamt of spending time during a certain week in April in Augusta. Seven whole magical days of eating peachy ice cream sandwiches for breakfast, walking until my legs give out, and getting grass stains on my GAP khakis, because even without a folding chair, every seat is the best seat in the house at Augusta National Golf Club.

Flash forward to the present, where I come to you, ready to bear all on how my first time in Augusta wasn't for the Masters, but for something that means a little bit more to me as a woman that grew up in this sport. I couldn’t be happier that my first experience at Augusta was coming for the Augusta National Women's Amateur—allow me to tell you why.

My ANWA journey began Tuesday. With suitcases filled to the brim of my very best golf outfits, nerves and butterflies swirling, the excitement of touching down in the Augusta Regional Airport was practically seeping through each and every pore. It was a quick trip, from JFK to AUG, and call me crazy, but the Augusta Airport has a scent. Like a signature smell that just immediately ups the ambiance factor as you de-plane—and it's delightful. (Think azaleas and honey, but still earthy.)

Despite the final practice round day at Champions Retreat winding down, I couldn't help myself. I hopped in an Uber and headed to the course to pick up my credentials and scope out the scene.

And I'm happy I did—I got a sneak peak of the ANWA merch before everything flew off the shelves during round one.

I got to see the grounds team begin preparations for the first round, and soak up a moment of calm before things kicked off. I've been fortunate to cover a lot of golf tournaments in my career so far, from the Solheim Cup to the PLAYERS, but ANWA just felt different. That moment of pause was for sure my "I made it" moment. I finally was in Augusta. And despite not being on property officially—I could see and feel the presence of Augusta National—things were so impeccably in place. The trees and grass were perfectly manicured. The pine straw was lush. Heck, even the sky got the memo. It was the most magnificent shade of blue accented by those big fluffy clouds that look like cotton candy gliding through the atmosphere. The week was already starting off like a dream, and the first tee shot had yet to have been struck.

And then it was time. Wednesday morning rolled around, and it was for the sixth edition of the Augusta National Women's Amateur. The shuttle dropped me off at the front gates, and I beelined for the media center to throw my things down before heading to the driving range.

Asterisk Talley, Lottie Woad, Mirabel Ting, Gianna Clemente, Maria Jose Marin—all warming up in front of me. Each of them going through their own process and routines, it was so enthralling to watch. They're so meticulous in their preparation, in ways that us mere mortals couldn't even dream of repeating. How they take in their surroundings, deliberating each and every shot and executing...these are legends in the making, and I'm like 30 feet from them trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

In my best attempt at being a wallflower, I felt so much nostalgia hit me. Seeing these young girls warming up with their families watching and obsessing over the small details because they won't admit it, but they're just as nervous, and the only way they can stay calm is if they bother you—man, it took me back to simpler times. The pride beaming from these families was palpable and an underrated scene out there.

After about 20 minutes or so, I headed to the first tee at Champions Retreat. Around the time Lottie Woad was beginning her round, Stanford's Megha Ganne was lighting it up—leading the championship by four or five strokes, I immediately set out to see her final few holes.

Along the way I bumped into former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, avid golfer and fan, and one of the first women members of Augusta National. We exchanged pleasantries and shared how magical being there was and we went our separate ways. I walked a few more steps and saw former ANWA champ Anna Davis tee off on the par-5 9th looking as cool as ever.

From just those two moments, I learned how casually intimate ANWA is. If you frequent tournaments and events, you would've been pleasantly surprised at the lack of patron lines, especially in the fairways. For the newbies, these lines/ropes help fans and crowds establish a boundary so you won't interfere with play. But at ANWA, there's a freedom to really soak in the course and competition.

And it extends beyond the lines, even the set up of the course was welcoming and patron-friendly. It's a relatively easy course to walk. From greens to the next tee boxes, fans can easily follow groups and not feel like they have to set up camp on just one hole.

Champions Retreat and the ANWA committee did a fantastic job in creating a focal point. In one area you had the first tee box, the practice green, the 18th green, concessions, the pro shop, the player interview area, and a spot for fans to get autographs all in one flow.

Wednesday was honestly a blur. A limited 71-player field with tee times as early as 8 a.m., going off both nines makes for a quicker day than you’d think. And just like that…round one was in the books.

Thursday, I had a plan. I didn’t see enough golf and I was determined to change that. I started my day doing some research on the infamous Champion’s Retreat Broccoli Tree. I had heeded the advice of a few locals to pay attention to the course and how different it was playing after Hurricane Helene was said to have knocked down around 1,000 trees—the Broccoli Tree included. I had a quick chat with CR’s Director of Golf Mike Rymer, who explained the lore of the Broccoli Tree and just how special it was to the course and their staff.

The fondness in which he talked about the tree was enough to nearly bring me to tears, so I figured this was the perfect time to go out and see exactly what everyone had been talking about.

I grabbed my friend Sarah and we trekked out to the front nine. The Broccoli Tree was the overseer of the 4th hole. With the Savannah River lining the left side, an alluring fairway bunker down the right—ball placement off the tee is everything on the 4th. The tree was said to be daunting and really posed a huge challenge for the players. It impacted their entire strategy, and with the tree now gone, the 4th is wide open and plays much easier than years past.

But don’t be fooled, that front nine is no joke. It’s meaty off the bat with a series of par 4s and 5s with no reprieve until the 6th hole, the first par 3.

As the day went on, the tension kept building. The second round would determine who would make the Saturday final at Augusta National. A field that would soon be cut in half, with only 30 of the top players battling for the most coveted title in women’s amateur golf.

Thursday had a little bit of everything: birdies, unlikely underdogs rising to the occasion, two pimento cheese sandwiches (for me), and of course—heartbreak. Because of Ganne’s electrifying opening 63, the bar was set and if players wanted to make it, they had to bring their A-game. But the cool thing is, no matter what, each player would get the chance to play Augusta National during Friday’s practice round. Which, in my book, is the best consolation prize you can get.

Friday night had a similar vibe to Christmas Eve as a kid. I counted down the minutes until I set foot on Augusta National. When I finally crossed the threshold and reached the sacred grounds of Augusta National Golf Club, my mental digital camera was taking it all in. Every flower, every Masters emblem, every inch of the place was being filed into a crevice of my brain to hold on to forever. I had already decided that I would dedicate as much time to walking the grounds as possible. As marvelous as the Press Building is—there’s world class golf to be watched and I wasn’t going to miss a beat.

The first thing I noticed about Augusta National is how everything seems technicolor. However green you think the course is, it’s greener. The azaleas look fake, they’re not (they’re also home to world’s largest bumblebees). The umbrellas are darling. The big oak tree is as abundant as it looks on TV. The slopes are unreal—it’s all unreal.

Augusta National kind of feels like those little holiday villages cities set up in December, but make it golf. Everything is so wonderfully in place you find yourself walking differently as not to ruin anything.

I watched each tee shot off the first (hearing the roar of the crowd when Asterisk Talley holed out for eagle), before walking down the 10th—to embark on the greatest walk in golf. Down the left side of the 10th hole rests a little passageway of slightly trampled on pine straw that cuts through the trees. From that vantage point you can really soak in how severe the down slope of the hole is, and how narrow the fairway bottles as you approach the green.

With each and every hole, my mind was just more and more blown. From Amen Corner to the iconic par 3 16th, everything was more pristine than what I had envisioned. I sat in Amen Corner for about 25 minutes, rendered completely speechless. To see a group of young amateurs navigate their way around one of the toughest courses in the world and do so with such bravery was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

These girls don’t play for money but rather an opportunity. To get exceptions into the LPGA majors, to become household names, to solidify their names in history. It’s all for the love of the game that’s so pure and insanely contagious.

To see them out there, hearts on their sleeves, laying it all on the line inspires me to do and be better. These are people with stories. They deserve our attention, and yet they don’t command it, they let their play speak for themselves and hope that it’s enough.

It’s a privilege to witness and experience golf in this way. ANWA is still in its infancy, and yet, has already become an annual must-watch. It was a treat to be able to experience it up close and personal. The level of care and attention that goes into this week is remarkable and you’ll feel it—it’s hard not to. Augusta National is the thing you dream of your whole life and it still somehow exceeds all expectations on every level.

How special it is for women’s golf to be on the receiving end of such attentiveness, and at the forefront of the world’s most famous golf club? Showing young girls that the dream of walking inside the ropes isn’t so far out of reach after all.