The Masters is the best golf tournament in the world. It's like playing a round in the Botanic Gardens. The scenery incredible, the course a picture postcard, the history and tradition of the event making it the most coveted major for professional golfers. Even the green jacket, awarded to and worn by the event winners, is kinda cool  for a gaudy looking man-made garment you'd only ever find in grandad's wardrobe.

But what I love the most about the tournie is the fact it's almost become the last bastion of normal life minus the constant bombardment  of extra-sensory advertising and ever-present cellular device.

There are no mobile phones on course at Augusta and no second chances for anyone who breaks that rule. What this means is you go there to watch and enjoy the golf.

God forbid having to actually distract yourself with something that doesn't derive from the addictive screen glued to your hand from the moment you  wake up. Imagine the mental gymnastics the younger generations must go through psyching themselves up for a full day out spent alongside other fellow humans without the screen to rely on when conversation falls short.

The  awkward silent gaps in conversation, the sheer emptiness felt when one can't check to see how many meaningless and irrelevant likes on your latest post were  received without immediate response. The clamour to switch that thing back on come  end of the day's play, the stroke speed across neglected keyboard matched only by  Bryson's drive off the first tee.

Yes the Masters has a dark past and aspects of it's  own history most choose to leave well alone, but the event holds a place now in both  sport and society that transcends all other golf tournaments. For Augusta it really is a case of the more things change, the more they stay the same.