The Guns Of Augusta

Now that the fire is out, the riot has been quelled, the paramedics are gone, the jails are locked down and the National Guard is in control, I have to say that the 2003 Masters was an absolute Hootie. Wouldn't you?

And it all started so innocently. Martha Burk wrote a little letter asking Augusta National to get a female member. Club president Hootie Johnson answered by saying, basically, "When Hell gets a bobsled team." Feminist groups promised to picket the Masters. The New York Times demanded that Tiger Woods boycott the event. And Jesse Jackson said he'd be there for the women.

For their cause, I mean.

So the tournament started, and for the first time in history, there were throngs of protesters outside the gates of storied Magnolia Lane. There were two main groups: Martha's Mothers, who carried signs saying things like WELCOME TO THE MS.STERS, and Hotties for Hootie, who were led by Anna Nicole Smith because, as one said, "she's so great with the octogenarians."

Then Ben Wright showed up and said that women couldn't fit into the members' green jackets because "their boobs get in the way." Gloria Steinem hit him over the head with a Big Bertha, and you had yourself a good old-fashioned throwdown.

That convinced CNN to set up a makeshift studio at the new Piggly Wiggly across the street, with Wolf Blitzer at the desk. They called the show Insane at the Lane and started broadcasting nonstop. Next thing you knew, everybody who had a bone to pick with Augusta showed up at the gates.

There were picket signs saying that Augusta was unfair to Asians, Native Americans, Eskimos, North Dakotans, South Dakotans, New Mexicans, Mexicans, gays, poor people and Donald Trump (none of whom are members). Banned CBS analyst Gary McCord was there holding an AUGUSTA UNFAIR TO ME sign.

Jesse Jackson was there, chanting, "We don't want surplus cheese! We just want women's tees!" And Newt Gingrich was walking around handing out NEWT'S FOR THE COOTS! bumper stickers. All the billionaire CEOs who are members of the club had to sneak past the press by pretending they were pimento-cheese-sandwich deliverymen.

Then Phil Mickelson had a plane fly overhead pulling a sign that read, TIGER OUT OF AUGUSTA NOW! And NOW was there with T-shirts that read, A WOMAN'S PLACE IS AT THE (PRACTICE) RANGE. Then Kenny G showed up, but the fur people mistook his hair for a coonskin cap and hurled a bucket of blood at him. Some of the blood got in the eyes of the old Pinkerton guard manning the gate, and while he was temporarily blinded, Winona Ryder lifted the old guy's keys and let everybody in.

That's when it started getting nuts.