Surely you know what happened to one of your colleagues, the one with that ridiculous mustache, when he attempted what he thought was humor. So don't try being clever around here. Now I understand you have a new man on your team, a Mr. Enberg, who will be stationed in Butler Cabin all week. Mr. Enberg, I know you consider yourself a genius with words, but we must insist you have your extemporaneous remarks written by noon every day so we'll have sufficient time to edit them. The competitors are battling to become Masters champion.
Money is irrelevant.
As a matter of fact, in a recent phone conversation with commissioner Finchem, I floated the idea of eliminating prize money at the Masters, that winning a green jacket might be reward enough. After a brief coughing fit that the commissioner ascribed to a lingering cold, he said that while he personally thought the idea had merit, he'd have to run it by Tiger. I hope you won't think me overly critical if I remind you of our policy of not televising the front nine. In short, we want to keep our front nine in the closet, so to speak. In recent years you have sneaked some hand-held cameras out there, and we have chosen to look the other way.