Cheaper thrills at Augusta: the Masters is stiff, stilted and out of your price range. So hit the unbuttoned Par-3 Contest the day before the big tournament--it's a lot more fun anyway.(BUZZER BEATERS: Things all sports fans must do before they die)

One of the toughest tickets in sports is a day at Augusta National during the Masters. The official wait list closed in 2000, so you either need to stroke the right CEO or shell out more than $1,000 to a scalper just to see one day of tournament play.

That means the Masters Par-3 Contest needs to be on your Before-I-Hole-Out-on-Life agenda. Held every year since 1960 on the Wednesday before play starts, this nine-holer is a Roman holiday before the regal proceedings of the tournament itself. There's a Wednesday ticket lottery each year--Augusta National won't say how many people apply or win--but even if you're shut out, you can find an all-day Wednesday pass for a few hundred dollars. That's a small price to pay to see millionaire pros do stuff that would get you and your buddies kicked off your local muni. If you're a serious sports fan, you simply need to shoehorn yourself into the Par-3 gallery and watch a very un-Masters-like little event.

The background

The Par-3 Course was added to Augusta in 1958 but was derided by some members who then called it the Tom Thumb course. The layout gets less use by pros now than it used to, but today's members dig it--and during Masters week, it's the last time you're going to see big smiles until someone dons the green jacket on Sunday afternoon. The course record is a scalding 20, held by Art Wall and Gay Brewer. After some modifications, it plays at a leisurely 1,060 yards.

The basics

The entire current Masters field is invited, plus former winners and a few honorary invitees. Last year, 83 of 93 Masters participants showed up. They start sauntering over to the course at 1 p.m. (Augusta closes at 3 p.m. on Wednesdays) and play either with their buddies or with whoever arrives at the same time. The various pairings are part of the fun.

The greens aren't Augusta-short, but they're damn tough, and players simply go for the pin nine times--like Toshi Izawa did when he made consecutive aces in 2002. The winner and playoff participants, plus the closest-to-the-pin winner and anyone who hits a hole-in-one, get crystal prizes, but a lot of players don't even turn in their scorecards. No sweat--many in the crowd keep score, and betting in the ...