I write this not as a golf fan, but rather as a vocal adversary of the world’s most frustrating sport. I don’t dislike it because I have an unwavering moral opposition to any sport that the likes of Jon Daly can excel at or even because golf courses have generally been found more devastating to the environment than all of America’s vaping Hummer drivers put together, but chiefly because I suck at it.

Now, don’t write that off as me self-deprecating my slight hook or slice. Hell, I would love to even hit the ball in the air. If I manage to hit the ball in the air on half of my swings it’s a good hole for me. Hence my dad’s frustration when in the summer of the seventh grade I got a hole in one from 100 yards out with a driver, getting in one swing what he hadn’t in over thirty years of playing the sport. He didn’t look me in the eye for a week.

I should have retired after that hole in one; I honestly don’t know if I’ve even made a par since then. Not like I get out on the course anymore. Nine year olds having to play through because you’ve taken double digit swings to reach the green on a par three will do that to you I suppose.

However, I have noticed a phenomenon, in which every year during the Masters, I like golf. I not only am glued to the TV, I even go so far as to get urges to put on ridiculous clothing and get out and play. I know. How horrible.

But what makes the Masters special? The storylines. They just draw you in as a sports fan, regardless of your feelings for the game. In what other competition does a 58 year old Bernhard Langer, with 33 years of Masters experience, keep pace with last years winner, 22 year old Jordan Spieth, and a 24 year old first timer named Smylie heading into the final day? In what other competition do all three of those people then absolutely forget how to golf and blow up on said final day, letting the British get their biggest victory since the War of 1812? Golf fan or not, that’s just awesome to witness- minus the lobsterbacks winning of course. How dare they tax our tea. But this was definitely a Masters to remember, as much as Spieth tries to forget. I’m positive he’ll wince every time he sees the number 12 up until his next green jacket next year. We believe in you Jordan!

Blowups aside, my favorite story from the Masters may be the story of Sammy Schmitz. Before you Google his name allow me to tell you a little about him. Sammy is a graduate of Farmington High School and played golf for St. John’s University (boo!) Sammy is currently 35 years old, and a father of two. Sammy is an amateur golfer, who until last October, was ranked as the 3,724th best amateur golfer in the world. But a hole in one on a par 4 in the U.S. Mid-Amateur championship in Florida in that same October sent Sammy to his first Masters, where he golfed with the best professional golfers in the world on Thursday. But he had to make sure it was okay with his boss first.

Schmitz shot a 75 on Thursday, and although this was not good enough to make the cut, he shot the same or better than former Masters champions and household names Mike Weir, Graeme McDowell, Charl Schwartzel, Martin Kaymer, and Bubba Watson.

While the rest of this bunch was getting paid to play at the world’s best courses to prepare for the Masters, Sammy was working, raising a family, and golfing in a dome. Yes, the Braemar golf dome in Edina- where I had offseason football practice in high school- is the winter training spot of choice for someone who played at the Masters. How cool is that?

Now it’s just up to a current or former Gustie golfer to qualify for the Masters and make the cut so we can stick it to the Johnnies. Ball’s on your course guys. It sure isn’t on mine.