Hello, friends and degenerates! After the disappointment of the year's first major, it's time to turn our sights and wallets towards the sandy shores of South Carolina and Hilton Head Island for the RBC Heritage. As they have every year since 1983, the best in the world will tee it up at the Harbor Town Golf Links the week after the Masters -- and just like each of the last three years in this tournament, I've got your winner pegged.
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Hello Friends -- and degenerates! The end of our long, torturous ordeal is finally nearing an end. The light at the end of the tunnel is now a solid beam of blinding light full of hope, the promise of Spring, green outerwear and pimento cheese. Masters week is upon us. Five words I have been dying to say for about 365 days, give or take. Christmas in April, the most wonderful time of the year, yada yada.

After months of staring at snow and bundling up to walk to the mailbox, salvation is finally here! With all due respect to Jesus and his birthday, this is the “most wonderful time of the year” — Masters Week.

As you open up your phones or tablets to read this, I want to apologize because I won’t have my phone on me all day today.

Look — there’s nothing easy about the Masters. Whether it’s qualifying for the tournament or just getting as a patron, the Masters makes most people’s bucket list due to the exclusivity and stature.

In fact, the only thing easy about the Masters is making money betting on it — kind of.

It's late on a Wednesday night here in Western Massachusetts, and I'll be honest -- there's nothing I'd like to do less than write this piece about the Shell Houston Open. I'm sorry. My heart is already in Augusta, Georgia. My head, filled with dreams of pimento cheese sandwiches and Jim Nantz-isms. I know you're all there, too. 
The world's best golfers are in Austin, Texas this week for the Dell Technologies Match-Play Championship. As we all know, that means anything and everything can happen. Just like the NCAA's "March Madness" tournament, you can expect upsets galore followed by a No. 1 seed inevitably winning the damn thing.