THERE would be no desperate scramble for those highly-prized badges. For a modest admission fee of $5, enthusiasts" could watch the new, US Masters champion, Nick Faldo, in action yesterday: he was taking part in a charity event for children.
Unlike his previous Masters successes in 1989 and 1990, the reaction of his representatives in the International Management Group was low key. Instead, Faldo fulfilled a commitment to join the golf associated band, Hootie and the Blowfish, on their annual, post-Augusta outing at the Fort Jackson GC in Columbia, South Carolina.
Meanwhile, the headlines in yesterday's local papers over here were fairly predictable. "Not again, Greg!" declared the Atlanta Constitution, over a picture of Norman collapsing on his back after an attempted eagle chip had grazed the hole at the long 15th. "Shark skinned!" ran the banner headline in the Augusta Chronicle.
Faldo was right in his Sunday assessment that while he hoped the event would be remembered for his best-of-the-day 67, the more likely reaction would have to do with the manner of Norman's squandering - a seemingly unassailable lead. Even the American media were reluctant to give it their anticipated treatment of just another "Norman choke".
Nick Price and Brad Faxon are perhaps the only close friends that Norman has among US professionals. Observers put this down to possible envy of his considerable wealth, or the Shark's alleged super-ego. Yet none of them would have predicted his dramatic collapse on Sunday, from a six-stroke lead to a five-stroke defeat.
One of the first players I met on my arrival at Augusta National early last week was Tom Watson, an acknowledged expert on to course. Who did he fancy to win? Without hesitation he chose Norman. And when the Shark was 13-under-par and leading by six strokes after Saturday's third round, Raymond Floyd took the view that Norman would probably beat the 17-under-par aggregate record of 271, which he and Jack Nicklaus established on the old, Bermuda greens.
Ken Venturi, the former US Open champion turned CBS commentator, who lost a four-stroke lead in the final round of the 1957 Masters, said: "I thought no matter how badly he (Norman) played today, he couldn't lose the tournament."
Significantly, it was only his one-time confidante, Nicklaus, who remained unconvinced throughout the weekend. And he had become decidedly sceptical when the lead was cut to two strokes by the halfway stage of the final round. Asked then what it would mean to the Shark to win the elusive green jacket, Nicklaus replied: "He hasn't won it yet. The challenge of this course is 100 per cent mental."
With those words, the great man captured the essence of Norman's failure. I have always been of the view that the Australian thinks poorly under the sort of extreme pressure that he is certain to encounter in the major championships. He is at his most comfortable when he cuts loose, throws caution to the wind and simply allows his undoubted golfing skills to carry him to victory. As, for instance, was the case in the British Open at Royal St George's in 1993.
But Augusta is a vastly different proposition to Sandwich. In fact there is no more difficult venue in a major championship, particularly the way the pins are set for the final round. And Norman simply didn't have the mental strength to play percentage golf and carve out the level par score that was certain to earn him the title.
Then there was the Faldo factor. I have no doubt we would have witnessed an entirely different Norman had he been paired with any other player on the final day. But Faldo clearly bothers him, perhaps because they are direct opposites in so many respects.
Faced with most USPGA Tour campaigners, Norman would feel capable of overwhelming them through his skill and aggression. Against Faldo, however, he knew that no matter how well he played, however big his lead, the Englishman would still be there, grafting away relentlessly, even if the position appeared hopeless.
With so many statistics in golf it is easy to, winkle out an example to suit a particular argument. But it is nonetheless interesting to note that when they were paired together in the third round of the British Open at St Andrews in 1990, the scores were: Faldo 67, Norman 76. On Sunday, they read: Faldo 67, Norman 78.
Yet, whatever about Norman's amazing collapse, the fact is that Faldo played superb golf when capturing his sixth major championship. He hit 17 of the 18 greens in regulation, his only error coming at the difficult fifth where a four-iron approach actually landed on the green but bounced into a bunker, from where he made his only bogey of the round.
It is also very revealing that he three-putted only once over the four days. Yet, remarkably for a round of 67 at Augusta, he had the relatively high total of 31 putts on Sunday; his singles produced birdies at the second, sixth, eighth, 15th and 18th. The other birdie in his round was the product of two putts at the long 13th.
Asked if he could explain Norman's collapse, he replied: "Not really. I'm out there doing my own thing. I'm in control of my golf game. Once I realised Greg was in trouble, I was getting harder on myself doing everything a little better."
But the Englishman was generous in praise of his opponent, describing him as "a great player; great competitor." Faldo added: "He really is. He's a credit to the game and the game needs him out there all the time." With regard to the major championships, however, he claimed pointedly that being competitive, of itself was not enough. "Finishing them off is an entirely different matter," he said. As Nicklaus had suggested, the challenge was 100 per cent mental.
Meanwhile, Faldo insisted that while he would be remaining on the US tour, he wasn't "saying no to Europe". He went on: "I will also be going back there in September. I'm going to enjoy the best of both worlds, if I can. Britain is still home."
So, after an extraordinary weekend, we are left to ponder the unpredictability of sport which, in 50 many ways, mirrors the unpredictability of life. We thought that Norman couldn't possibly throw away a six-stroke lead and lose the Masters. But, confronted by the ice-cool skills of Faldo, he did ... 84 years to the day since an unsinkable ship, the Titanic, lost the battle with a different sort of icy obstruction, on April 14th, 1912.