What a thrill it was to see it all at first hand and to enjoy the lavish facilities. Just being there, and yet. . . What must it be like to actually get to play the course? Are we ever satisfied? Dream on.

Now, it so happens that every year Augusta National invite a small number of the media people who attend the Masters to play the course on the Monday after the event. And two years ago my name was drawn from the 300 or so entries. I'd never won a lollipop in a raffle before and I don't care if I never win another draw. I could hardly believe it when I received the invitation to present myself on the first tee at 7.37am on Monday, 12 April, 2004.

Ask 100 golfers to name the three courses in the world they would most like to play and I bet Augusta would figure on each list. There's a certain mystique about the place, an aura that has undoubtedly captured the imagination of players of all abilities like no other.

Obviously, the elite professionals who are invited on qualification or otherwise to play in the Masters are focused on the first major of the year but they will also admit that there is something special about Augusta that adds so much to their enjoyment. But for the rest of us, who manage only to see it on TV, it is hard to explain what it is that we find attractive;

what it is that makes Augusta so different from the many other marvellous courses around the world.

Apart from the challenge of the course itself with Amen Corner . . . referring to holes 11, 12 and 13 . . . there has been such an emphasis placed on the protection of the privacy of the members that it has earned a reputation of exclusivity, putting it out of the reach of casual visitors. Only those invited by a member and accompanied by a member can play and membership is by invitation only.

But my dream nearly didn't come through. It rained and rained all that Sunday night and it was with fear and trepidation that I drove through the puddles into the car park that morning. Lugging the clubs to the clubhouse, I was praying they wouldn't close it.

At least not until we had driven of. But as luck would have it, the rain cleared off; Harley, my assigned caddy, organised a buggy for me which was a welcome surprise, and so began the most treasured round of golf I had ever played.

Naas Botha, one of South Africa's greatest rugby stars now working as a broadcaster, was in our fourball along with two lads from Danish television and, without wishing to bore you with a blowby-blow account of the round, suffice to say that I finished with 28 points, having parred the first. Piece of cake. (Not quite an orthodox par, I admit. But a four is a four, even if the last one was a chip. ) Things to notice playing the course. Originally known as the Fruitland Nurseries, Augusta National celebrates the abundance and variety of the trees and shrubs in the names given to the holes. For example, the first hole is called Tea Olive followed by Pink Dogwood, Flowering Peach and Flowering Crab Apple. Incidentally, Hole 13 is known as Azalea because from tee to green there are some 1,600 azaleas. Make that 1,599 . . . I think I may have caught one going around the corner.

The fairways appear to be generously wide with little heavy rough between them and the corridors of pine trees but the test for the players is to find the right spot from which to attack the flag.

But there is one particular tree that nearly had its life shortened by demand of the president of the USA. It's on the 17th par 4, just 200 yards off the tee, left of centre and it stands all of 65 feet tall and is now well over 100 years old. President Dwight Eisenhower, an esteemed member of the club, got so fed up hitting the old tree that he waged a campaign to have it removed. He went so far as to formally propose at a Governors' meeting that the tree should be cut down but even he couldn't influence the club.

And there she stands to this day guarding the 17th, now boasting the appellation, The Eisenhower Tree.

Every year the Masters throws up an incident or two that will become part of the lore of Augusta National, like Tiger's incredible chip shot at the 16th last year or Padraig Harrington's hole-in-one at the same hole the year before.

(Did I mention my par at the first? ) No doubt, there will be plenty of excitement for us all to enjoy this year but for me nothing will eclipse the thrill of a lifetime I enjoyed when I stepped onto the first tee on that damp April day in 2004. As I have said many times since . . . it's not often the reality is better than the dream.