Rob Carr / AP

Patrons walk around near the 16th hole during practice for the Masters at Augusta National on Monday.

That last sentence is particularly telling, for it dispels the notion that Jones intended every green at Augusta National to be approached from a variety of angles from different positions on mammoth fairways. He was dictating where golfers needed to drive it on the 10th hole if they wanted to reach the green with an iron.

At the time the 10th green was relocated, the ninth green was reshaped. Jones didn't address that change in his 1951 series, but O.B. Keeler did so in July 1937: "The ninth green has been contoured all over and the bunkering plan altered to discourage heartily the fancy of some smart competitors of yesteryear for driving over into the No. 1 fairway and approaching the ninth green from that angle. They will play it as the doctor ordered from now on."

But Bobby Jones did intend some holes to allow options in angles of attack. What required thinking and finesse, he wrote, "was the contouring of the greens. They were undulating to the extent that it was hard to get close to the hole on some pin locations, unless the approach shot was made from the correct angle. Another interesting feature to us was the requirement for a run-up type of shot on several holes."

The narrowing of fairways by the introduction of even light rough, and especially by the planting of mature pine trees, would seem to fly in the face of this particular shot value.

Fazio, consulting architect to Augusta National in recent decades, usually declines to speak on the record about any changes to the course. But last year, when told of Jones' article -- and about the specific language regarding approach angles — Fazio couldn't resist.

"Why would we redesign a course for a game that nobody plays anymore?" he said. "Nobody hits fades or draws to certain spots in a fairway. They bomb it. They hit it very long, they hit it very straight."

Hootie Johnson, no doubt in deference to Payne, declined to comment, and in response to questions for Payne, the club replied, "The changes made to the golf course, including the addition and subtraction of trees and the defined second cut have not eliminated preferable angles for the players. The state of golf today must be taken into consideration. Historically, bump-and-run shots, balls hit with low trajectory and Bermuda greens made playing the angles more prevalent. Today, the game is different. Ball flight, how it spins, its trajectory and grooves on clubs have changed how people play this golf course. Players don't play the angles anymore to the same degree that was done in Jones' day. It's also important to remember that this course has always had some rough and that trees have been planted for a very long time."

If there's one thing this purist doesn't think Hootie got right, it's the removal of previous tees when new back tees were constructed. (OK, it turns out that had been the practice at Augusta National as far back as 1970, when superintendent Al Baston had his father, a local contractor, build a new back tee on the par-5 15th.)

Whoever was originally behind the decision should be ashamed. Augusta now has only two sets of tees, one at the championship's 7,445 yards, the other for members at 6,365 yards.

Fans cannot view the spots from which Hogan and Snead, Arnie and Jack, teed off. Players can no longer play the course from those spots. Those tees don't exist. They've been blended into the landscape, as if they never existed.

The club has plotted those previous tee positions on a GPS system and could locate precise spots where a plaque could be inconspicuously installed to mark, say, the location of the 11th tee when the hole was the conclusion of three dramatic sudden-death playoffs in four years.

But that's ancient history.

Augusta National has never been interested in ancient history. Not even in the days of Clifford Roberts and Bobby Jones.

In the fourth round in 1935, Gene Sarazen made his remarkable double-eagle 2 on the par-5 15th. It gained him a tie with Craig Wood, whom Sarazen defeated in a 36-hole playoff the next day.

The day after the playoff, Sarazen asked his caddie whether he'd heard of any plans to install a plaque on the spot at the 15th where he'd made his historic swing.

"Mr. Gene," the caddie said, "they went down there this morning and sprinkled a little rye seed in the divot and covered it up."