Masters Week is here—one of the most prestigious events in all of sports. If you know anything about golf, you know it’s one of the most coveted tickets in the world. Don’t get me wrong—the Super Bowl, the World Series, and the NBA Finals are incredible in their own right—but there’s something uniquely special about the Masters.

Maybe it’s because it’s been played at the same location, Augusta National, for more than 90 years. Maybe it’s because it was founded by Bobby Jones, one of the greatest amateur golfers of all time. Or maybe it’s because it remains one of the few events where phones aren’t allowed, preserving a sense of tradition that’s increasingly rare. Whatever it is, the Masters is different—and you feel it the moment you arrive.

Our family had the incredible privilege of attending in 2017. Not because we won the ticket lottery, but because of something far more meaningful. When Zach began a new clinical trial for his relapsed brain tumor, it just so happened to take place in Augusta, Georgia. Through an outpouring of generosity, his nurse secured two tickets from her pastor at True North Church, and two more were graciously provided by the Arnold Palmer family. It was an experience unlike anything we had ever known.

The awe of walking onto the grounds—what many call “Disneyland for adults”—is hard to describe. Not a blade of grass out of place. Volunteers as kind as could be. And yes, the peach ice cream sandwiches really do live up to the hype.

We traveled to Augusta every month for three years, until COVID brought those trips to a halt. It truly became a second home. Zach was finishing his senior year of high school when we started, and by the time our visits ended, he was a junior in college.
Along the way, we built meaningful connections. Zach formed a special friendship that we made a point to nurture every time we returned. We planned our trips around attending church at True North. We played golf—though not at Augusta National—at a local favorite, The River Course. We shared meals at The Farm Haus. And every time we drove down Washington Avenue, we’d sneak a glance down Magnolia Lane, hoping to catch even the smallest glimpse inside those iconic gates.

As we watch the tournament this week, we’re filled with excitement—not just for the players, but for the memories we carry with us. Moments like Rickie Fowler chipping in for eagle on the second hole, or Phil Mickelson handing a ball to a young fan after finishing the 15th.

We’re deeply grateful to everyone who made that day possible for our family.
At the time, Shaper Golf wasn’t even a thought yet. But looking back now, it feels like it was always part of the journey—we just didn’t know it.

Moments like these are what remind us why we love the game-not just the competition, but the connection, perspective and the memories we carry with us.

That’s the spirit behind Shaper Golf and our Beautiful Boy Initiative. And while we didn’t know it at the time, experiences like Augusta helped shape what we’re building today.