I don't remember exactly when we started saying it. One of us would laugh after a bad shot and say, "I'll see you at Augusta." The other would answer, "Yeah. I'll be on the bag."

It became our joke. Not because either of us thought we were actually headed to the Masters. Because every pair of brothers needs a dream that's too big to defend.

If tomorrow you told me my brother had somehow found himself standing on the first tee at Augusta National, I'd have my suitcase packed before you finished the sentence.

Not because it's Augusta. Because it's him.