My mom's favorite golfer, and thus mine too at the time, was Ben Crenshaw. So I was thrilled when he was leading the tournament up to that point.
He was one of the final players to come by the 16th, and my mom--who luckily had come back on the greens to complete the final rotation with my step-father--and I followed him through the end of his round.
On our way out, I stopped and bought an authentic Masters golf hat from a souvenir stand. We ate dinner at The Green Jacket restaurant, across the street from the club.
The next day, I went to the wrestling match, probably more excited than ever. But on the way there I heard the Masters' results on the radio. Larry Mize, a local Georgian, had won the green jacket with a 120-foot chip shot in a sudden death play-off.
It's funny. I think my mom was right. Even though I loved wrestling so much, the thing I remember about that weekend is the Masters.
The green grass, Nicklaus's red pants, Ben Crenshaw and the results on the radio. I don't think I could tell you a single thing that happened at the wrestling match.