When I watch The Masters, I imagine the guitar theme being played at every point of the course: in the parking lot, in the trees, just off the green, in the shower stalls of the club house - not electronically, though. I imagine that they've hired 500 guitarists to set up stools and chairs and that actual individuals are playing everywhere, interminably, ubiquitously, without end. Like the balaclava musicians and dancers in Monty Python's Cheese Shop sketch.
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