Masters Golf

Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to bring a cell phone into this place.

(Dave Martin/AP Photo)

AUGUSTA, Ga. -- The building is painted dark green, so unlike the stately white cottages that Augusta National officials want the world to see on TV every April, it blends into the background. Parked nearby is a mobile command truck for the Georgia state police, the kind of vehicle you find at major crime scenes.

This, according to a Georgia county sheriff stationed at Gate 6A, is where the worst scofflaws at the Masters are taken. They are escorted inside the building, where a security official fills out an incident report and confiscates the badge that admits them to the course. They are then escorted off the premises.

Forever.

"The green jackets don't care," said the sheriff, who didn't want his name used. "They tell us to rip off their badges" -- he makes a yanking gesture -- "and bring them there, and if they won't come, that's fine, too. They just take the number on the badge and that's it. They're banned for life."

Banned for life?

"Banned for LIFE," he said one more time, with appropriate gusto.

This is the penalty for the crime of taking a cell phone onto the course at Augusta National. You think the billionaires who run the course aren't serious about the policy prohibiting electronic devices? The one the guards yell out to the "patrons," as they're called here, again and again as they approach the gates?

Well, just go ahead and make their day.

There are scores of cautionary tales. Four years ago, a TV journalist stepped a few feet outside the press building door to take a phone call, only to be surrounded by Securitas guards and escorted off the premises. One sports columnist pulled a tape recorder out of his pocket last year and was detained as he tried to explain that, no, really, it's not a phone. He eventually was released on his own recognizance.

Then, there is the story of Atlanta native Scott Feight from a few years back. Feight had four tickets for a practice round and invited two friends and his father, John, who was arriving back from a two-week business trip to Taiwan.

"He flew back all night, we picked him up at the Atlanta airport and then drove (the two hours) to Augusta," Feight said. "He was groggy, tired and jet-lagged. We were walking through security when one of my friends said, 'Where's your dad?' I turned around and said, 'I don't know. Where'd he go?'"

Finally, after a few minutes, his father showed back up. He told them that, prior to his trip, he had put his cell phone at the bottom of his fanny pack and had forgotten about it. Security found it during a search, brought him to the green cabin where they took down his name and ticket number, and then made him leave the phone at the check stand outside the gate.

2015 MASTERS:

They were allowed in to watch the practice round -- maybe they should consider themselves thankful for that -- and didn't think much of the delay again. Then, three months later, Feight said he received a letter from Augusta National.

"It said, 'You violated our tournament policy by attempting to sneak a cell phone onto the property, so we have permanently banned you from ever trying to get tickets here,'" Feight said, paraphrasing the letter from memory.

"I was absolutely floored. It would be different if it was done with malicious intent. Here's my dad, who was 70 years old, jet-lagged, didn't realize what he had in his bag, and now I'm banned for life."

Just to be clear: He's banned for life from buying tickets from Augusta National. They won't be hanging his photo in the security booth. He could buy tickets on the secondary market ... which is what Rick Buonincontri had to do after his cell-phone ban on Monday.

He is a web producer for PGA Tour pro Kevin Streelman's swing coach. He drove up Magnolia Lane with Streelman on Monday, taking video with his phone the entire drive. Then he took one unfortunate peek at the screen while standing near the putting green, and a guard pulled him aside.

He was marched to that same green building, watched a security employee fill out that same incident report, and then he was gone. "I came in on Magnolia Lane, and 90 minutes later, I'm standing in a parking lot without a ticket," Bounincontri said.

He spent several hundred dollars to scalp a ticket to get back inside. "They only thing better than stepping onto the grounds at Augusta National for the first time in your life is stepping onto the grounds for the second time in your life after you've been kicked out."

Feight hasn't explored the secondary market yet. He is a U.S. Military Academy graduate who served seven years as a helicopter pilot. He is now executive director of the Foundation for Hospital Art, an organization his father founded that has helped produced 35,000 mural paintings in 2,000 hospitals in 194 countries. He is also a lifelong golf fan, one who has often volunteered at PGA Tour events, so not exactly a person unfamiliar with the rules.

So while the lifetime ban has become something of a joke -- even Pete Rose is getting a reinstatement hearing! -- it's also a bit of a drag, too. He'll watch the final round on TV this weekend like everyone else, and while he has considered appealing to the (ahem) good-natured charity of Augusta National, he hasn't bothered.

The lifetime ban, after all, had no mention of parole.

"I thought about asking to get my name removed from the black list," he said, "but maybe James Spader would come after me at that point."

Steve Politi may be reached at spoliti@njadvancemedia.com. Follow him on Twitter @StevePoliti. Find NJ.com on Facebook.