On a mission for tickets for the US Masters at Augusta National A row of lawn-mowing machines come down the fairway during a practice round for the 77th US Masters. IF it had been anywhere else in American suburbia, you'd be excused for thinking it was some form of human crisis. A man, crouched on a makeshift bench on a street corner, nursing his head in his hands and sobbing in clear discomfort as a friend consoled him with a pat on a hunched-over back. But this is Augusta. That's not to say it's a well-to-do city; far from it. It's just that this was an agony born of a Masters dream dissipating before his sullen eyes. This gent was at least the 10th I drove past yesterday, 5km from Augusta National, who'd come to the realisation that his "I need tickets" placard would be ignored like a rack of lamb at a vegan feast. Masters Monday is to golf fans what a pilgrimage to Mecca is for devout Muslims. It's fulfilling a mission -- for some held lifelong -- that cannot be ignored for the sake of easy bucks in a dodgy backstreet deal. So in they rush as the gates open for the week, like schoolgirls to a Justin Bieber concert, wide-eyed and dreaming. Some crane their necks to take in the towering Georgian pines. Many take advantage of the cameras only on Monday to Wednesday policy and snap wondrously as they walk through one of the world's great gardens. Others are just happy to soak up the southern hospitality with a mint julep, while the stench -- or fragrance depending on your opinion -- of Cuban cigars hangs in the air. Dustin Johnson and Tiger Woods walk up the fairway during a practice round at Augusta National. But it is, and will always be, a shrine to golf. A walk for passionate fans through the annals of their memories on the only course that has been a constant host to a major championship, thereby creating the chance to recall greatness first hand. Yesterday, another place of worship was added. Thousands flocked to the pine straw right of the 10th fairway from which Bubba Watson played his sublime approach to win the 2012 Masters in a playoff. As everywhere around the course, you cannot truly appreciate the wizardry, or difficulty, of the great shots until you witness the site first-hand -- and Watson's wedge mad most shaking their head in disbelief. The back-nine stroll, while taxing to many across a hill that is far more substantial than the rolling mound it appears on television, is a history and sensory overload. Tianland Guan, Dustin Johnson and Tiger Woods on the 16th hole at Augusta National. "Patrons," as they're called, clamber to see the point where Phil Mickelson hit his miraculous six-iron through the trees on the 13th in 2010; where Tiger Woods banked in his infamous bump shot on the 16th in 2005. Sadly, those who saw Gene Sarazen's "shot heard around the world" for albatross on the 15th in 1935 are thin on the ground, yet it doesn't prevent its recollection. Some bemoan the course and technology changes that have made once-feared obstacles such as the Eisenhower Tree on the 17th obsolete. But nobody leaves thinking less of their brush with golfing folklore -- most with a bundle of memorabilia under their arm. As with all facts Masters, club officials never spill the beans. One sage veteran estimated to me that at least $5 million worth of merchandise is sold daily from two outlets that are jam-packed moments after the gates open. Even if that is 50 per cent off the mark, suffice it to say that it's enough to put a tear in the eye of all other golf tournaments -- and at least one ticketless would-be patron.