Augusta, Georgia ¨C For three decades at the Masters, the roars that echoed loudest off the towering pines at Augusta National ?belonged to two men.
This week, for the first time since 1994, neither Tiger Woods nor Phil Mickelson will be there to summon them ¡ª?and golf is quietly reckoning with what that means.
It is a jarring reality for fans who have come to associate the year¡¯s first major not just with pristine fairways and Sunday drama, but with the electric crackle that follows ?those two names as they navigate their way around the course.
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