What the Masters’ no-mobile-phones policy actually means for the patrons

There are many rules here at the Masters. No running, no overzealous celebrating, no pictures on tournament days. No issues here.  

But, how about no phones? Sounds easy, doesn’t it. It’s only a few hours – of course I can manage without my mobile phone. It is, however, quite a gear shift.  

The average American boomer spends upwards of four hours per day using their mobile phone, picking it up an average of 200 times per day. That equates to once every five minutes duringwaking hours.

Most of these pick-ups are thoughtless and instinctive. Being without your phone for hours at a time is anxiety inducing, similar to the effect on a smoker of no cigarettes. It turns you into a fidgety mess.  

Today we stand behind the 5^th tee. It is an amazing corner of the course and a quiet one. A little private enclave from which to watch a stream of the world’s best golfers take on this monstrously difficult tee shot.  

The course furniture at Augusta National is minimal. There are none of the endless wires, giant Rolex clocks, Nikon hoardings and many other accoutrements blocking your view that you find at the Open.

A single string separates you from the most select field – and field – in golf. It is magical. There are also no giant screens showing the action nor, in the case of the 5^th tee, anyscoreboards. There is just you, the view, your thoughts and the people around you.  

Gaps between tee times are 11 minutes. We watch nine groups. That is well over an hour and a half with nothing to do and no phone to fill the void.  

We fill the first gap with a discussion on exactly how Brian Harman constructed his double-bogey five at the 4^th but then I am left to my thoughts. 

Normally: Get to the tee and fire off a couple of grumpy WhatsApps to my wife. Email a colleague some barky, vague instructions about something I have just remembered. Check phone fivetimes waiting for a reply to the former. Just noticed she has blue-ticked it when Adam Scott arrives.  

It is really hot, so I go and stand under a tree between groups. I am offered some suncream by an English chap who is at his first Masters with his dad. We enjoy a conversation that lasts until Sergio arrives.  

Sergio is grumpy. His tee shots starts left and continues that way but ever more so until diving into some foliage. He turns and mumbles something about shouting on his backswing to a group of no more than 12 entirely mute patrons.

As Sergio huffs off under a dark Spanish cloud. We enjoy some low-key ribbing with the marshall and our fellow patrons. It is a lovely moment of shared levity.  

Normally: Why is Sergio in such a bad mood, I wonder, as do the 12 or so people around me. We all reach for our pockets, flick up the leaderboard and discover he has bogeyed three and four. That explains it. 

Harry Hall arrives and he is looking at me. Or rather I am looking at him so he looks back. He is applying some sun cream. He playfully offers me some. I decline and quip about it being hotter here than at West Cornwall, the course where he grew up playing.

A lady to our left is excited by this and comes to chat to us. It is Harry’s mum, Anne, who is out with entire an corridor or Halls (I am not sure if that is the collective noun for Halls but it should be). We share the excitement of a debut Masters and they are off to look for his ball.  

Normally: Nothing to do, nothing to do. I remember my wife blue ticked my message. She hasn’t replied. I have a quick look at the Times concise crossword and spend three minutes trying to spell n-a-u-s-e-a-t-e. I still haven’t managed it and anyway it has the wrong number of letters when Tyrell Hatton arrives.  

Tyrell Hatton has definitely been in the gym. He looks like he could be playing hooker for England. His is without doubt the most impressive drive we see. An enormously high, two-yard fade that finishes in the middle of the middle and past the bunkers at 330 yards.  

Normally: Decided to try and watch some of the action on Sky Go. Spend a few minutes fiddling about with a VPN. Have to message my wife again to get the password.  She asks me why I need a VPN.  

Jon Rahm arrives. He also seems grumpy about the noise. Perhaps he would prefer a DJ. Gotterup is in his group and attempts to carry the bunkers at 330 yards. This is quite hard to believe. It sparks up a conversation with the group of Texan 20-somethings stood to our right.

They are explaining their viewing strategy, of a placing a chair by the 14^th tee and then heading out around the course before retiring there for the afternoon’s action.  

Normally: Still no password so check the scores on the Masters app. Get a text to say I am nearly out of data. Check my emails to find two demands from clients who both want something by the weekend. Don’t they know I am at the Masters?! 

Justin Rose arrives and hits a squirty, low cut from an even lower tee into the bushes on the right. He clearly doesn’t fancy this tee shot and it shows. 

Chat to Dan about our bets for the week and joke about how my long-standing nap bet on Rose who we assume is now in a bush. 

Normally: Get on Sky Bet and cash Rose out. He is definitely making double there at best.  

Robert Macintyre arrives and hits the most beautiful fade around the bunkers in a way that only left-handers can. He is cheered on by a somewhat boorish Scotsman who has appeared behind us.  

Normally: Take a selfie when Scottie Scheffler arrives and try to post it on Insta – ‘Not bad for a Thursday’ – but I have now run out of data.  

Chat to Dan about the weird thing where all home nation sports fans are regarded as additive, except the English who are hated. It is terribly unfair. Except the hooliganism of course, which is regrettable. 

All of this talk of football reminds me I need to get back to my phone to update my Fantasy Team, and check my messages. 

Arrive back to two spam emails, 10 messages about kids’ sports admin and some nonsense in the golf club group chat, plus four likes and a comment on Instagram. Discover Rose somehow made his par on five so we are still on.  

Normally: I am really in a bad mood now about the lack of reply from my wife. This kind of thing absolutely ruins being away.  

Call my wife and speak to the kids, they are excited to hear about the Masters and have been watching on TV.  

Most of the above is true – the experience is different without your phone. You drink in the action. Speak to the people around you. You are in the moment, and on your phone? There is absolutely nothing that can’t wait until later.

You are at the Masters after all.  

• NOW READ: Sir Nick Faldo: I knew when Greg Norman was in trouble during his 1996 Masters collapse
• NOW READ: Scott, Garcia and Rose: Major brothers in arms for a quarter of a century
• NOW READ: How Rory McIlroy’s maturity could unlock yet more Masters success

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