LAS VEGAS, Nev. – No, I'm not at Augusta National to witness The Masters. This will be my 17th year not at The Masters.

Am I whining that no media outlet will send me? No way. I probably wouldn't go if they did.

You see, I've already been there. It was 1992 the year Freddie won his only green jacket. In fact, I was on the 15th hole when Freddie was way behind a tree in the left rough as he launched the biggest and highest draw that landed on the green.

You don't remember that. That's because it happened during Wednesday's practice round. Yes, I've never witnessed an actual round of The Masters in person. And I don't care.

Here's why along with my advice for proper Masters watching and Augusta tactics.

The best seat to watch The Masters is, for me, my living room. I won't miss anything. CBS – and now ESPN on Thursday and Friday - will record and save great shots that were not seen live. You know, the ones where you hear the roar in the distance. When you're there all you can do is wonder who did what and then watch the leaderboard.

And even if you're there when something great happens, you might not see it. There are just too many people crammed into small areas surrounding the fairways, tees, and greens.

My good friend actor ( John O'Hurley learned that lesson at the Ryder Cup Matches in 1997 in Valderrama, Spain. He said it wasn't a good experience for golf nuts, like us, who live and die with every shot and how each shot is hit. John said he spent most of his time in the hospitality tents watching the TV. I'll bet he had some of that fine Spanish wine too.

Now, if you're going to the Masters, do as I did, go on the Wednesday practice round. You might think this is a practice round just for the players. It's not. It's your practice round.

Walk the course from the first to the 18th hole. Sure, you can't get inside the ropes; walk outside them.

You will get a feel for the course you can't see on TV. For instance, TV fails to show you how elevated Augusta National is. While walking the course, you'll know a golfer with strong legs will win. There's a good reason why older contenders usually fade on day four.

You'll also understand why Lee Trevino never won The Masters. The Merry Mex's famous flat fade may have supported three wives, but it couldn't withstand Augusta's consistent right-to-left doglegs that demand a consistent draw.

Trust me, my day walking Augusta was special. Even my wife, who was against the idea at first, tells me she's glad she took the stroll too.

The other advantage of the Wednesday practice round is the Par 3 event. Most people don't realize that Augusta has one of the most spectacular par 3 nine-hole golf courses. The majority of holes wrap around a massive lake. The pastoral view must have been what Bobby Jones first saw back in the 1930s.

In addition, the tournament is a throw-away for the players. They know that no one has won the par 3 event and also won the big event. So, the players have fun. Their biggest goal: see how many balls they spin from the top of the green and into the water. I saw Mark Calcavecchia zip four in a row into the drink. The spin action on each one must have traveled at least 30 feet.

Am I trying to talk you out of going to the actual Masters? No. If you love the roar of a fairly polite crowd and can go home and watch the replay of The Masters, then go for it. Be my guest.

However, I have one last bit of advice when you go to Augusta. This comes from Arthur French, one of Ireland’s top real estate developers. We played together at The K Club in Ireland at a Ryder Cup-style event sponsored by the U.S. Ireland Alliance. And at dinner, the Irish players made Arthur tell me his story of going to Augusta.

Arthur became good friends with Scott Ford whose father is Joe Ford, a board member at Augusta National. Arthur said his only remaining golf dream was to play Augusta. Scott placed a call to his father and sure enough Arthur was told he had a tee time in two weeks on a Monday morning at 9 a.m.

"So, John, I immediately called my secretary and said book me a flight to Augusta," he told me at the dinner. The rest of the Irish contingent, although knowing the story, hung on Arthur's every word.

Arthur was supposed to arrive the Sunday night before the Monday morning tee time. But late Sunday night, the Fords realize Arthur has not arrived. Finally as midnight neared, Arthur was able to call with some bad news.

"John, I was in Augusta, Maine!" The guys roared.

So, I asked, what did you do? Arthur bribed or plaid his way through cars and private planes and landed in Augusta, Georgia and stood outside the Augusta National gates only 15 minutes before his tee time.

After being up all night traveling about one thousand miles, Arthur French teed it up at Augusta and birdied the first two holes. Arthur is a better man than me.

Enjoy the weekend. You'll know where I am.

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