AUGUSTA — Austin Waldrop had some unfinished business to take care of first thing Monday morning.
Waldrop had attended the Augusta National Women’s Amateur on Saturday and paid a visit to the merchandise building, only to discover that all the gnomes were sold out. None to be found.
That’s why he braved the dicey weather and traffic entanglements to arrive at the golf course as early as possible Monday.
“I was going to get my gnome,” Waldrop said emphatically.
Waldrop and his wife, Ashlynne, who live in nearby Grovetown, along with their friends Matt Scherer and Loren Higgins from Charlotte, North Carolina, were taking a celebratory break from the rush of the morning. Their bags of merchandise stood at their feet like plunder after a battle. The gnomes, in all their wee bearded glory, were peering through the oversize plastic bags.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
The gnomes are 18 inches tall and sell for less than $50 in the Augusta National merchandise shop. Theoretically these are garden gnomes, but most end up on fireplaces, bookshelves or office desks. Some never leave the box. Some of them even end up on eBay, at highly inflated prices.
There are a limited number of gnomes available each day — and they sell out in a hurry, which adds to the urgency to get in line and grab one. But the stash is replenished each day, meaning patrons with tickets for later in the week won’t necessarily go home gnomeless.
“We came to get gnomes,” admitted Lauren Murphy of Athens, who was attending the tournament with her fiance Luke Vermeulen of Atlanta and their friends Scott Braswell and Victoria Young of Atlanta. “We went in and got our gnomes and split up and did our shopping.”
The hardest part of the process was waiting to get into the merchandise building. It can take 45 minutes to an hour to wait in line before you gain admission to the shopping floor. Although the sales floor is crowded, the wait to buy shorts and hats at the counter is relatively short. And once you get in line to pay, things move quickly.
“From the time we got in and out, it was probably 15 minutes,” Braswell said.
Kyle and Bryan Mueller, brothers from Fort Wayne, Indiana, finally got tickets through the lottery after years of trying. They brought their father, George, and were taking a break and deciding what to do with their spoil. Someone was going to carry the bags back to the car before moving on to watch the players the rest of the day.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
The frontal assault on the gift shop was slightly different Monday, the first practice round day of the Masters. Officials announced late Sunday that the parking lot and grounds would be closed because of bad weather, but by Monday morning the situation had changed and the word came that patrons would be allowed to enter at 8 a.m.
As soon as the appointed time arrived, fans made their way through the entrance gates and made a beeline to the merchandise building to queue up and give their credit cards an aerobic workout.
That’s where Michelle Peel was found. She lives around the corner from Augusta National and was following the news on her computer. As soon as she learned that the grounds would be open, she phoned Morgan Anton to establish a meeting spot, and they were among the first wave allowed onto the course.
“We have our list,” Peel said. “She has a list, and I have a list.”
Peel had a special mission, too. Her childhood best friend Stacy — Anton’s mother-in-law — is the one who got this year’s tickets in the lottery, but she recently had back surgery and was unable to attend. So Peel was in charge of accumulating everything.
Mission accomplished. Her bags were stuffed with hats and T-shirts, egg salad sandwiches, cookies and chips and — of course — gnomes.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
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