AUGUSTA, Ga. — Brandon Holtz, a 39-year-old self-proclaimed “old, fat guy,” has some business to take care of. Sure, he’s among the 91 players at the Masters and will have to play a second round Friday, but there’s also actual, real-life business he’s handling during the most memorable week of his life.
“I gotta stay working,” he said under the historic oak tree at Augusta National after his first round, with the RE/MAX logo on his collar, representing his employer in Bloomington, Illinois. “I’ll have a listing going live next week and hope to get that sold.”
Holtz knows how to do that. The 6-foot-3, 250-pound former Division I basketball player — possibly the first one to play in the Masters — is a Realtor, a born salesman, a “Bloomington-Normal legend,” said his former high school basketball coach Ron Rose, of the twin cities they inhabit.
The former Illinois State basketball player, who didn’t even play on the school’s golf team, grew up blistering the 9-hole Lakeside Country Club course in Bloomington, as well as the streets around it, with his booming drives. After his basketball career, he attempted to turn pro as a golfer for a few years but couldn’t make a living doing it. Some of his friends, including a few following him on Thursday, were good amateur golfers, so he gave it up and reclaimed his amateur status to play with those guys. Then he started selling houses, like the 4-bedroom, 3-bathroom property he has on the market right now for $279,900.
He was featured on the National Association of Realtors’ Realtor News site this week — “Brandon Holtz isn’t just known for real estate,” the story said, and his boss, John Armstrong, said Holtz was scheduling an open house 10 minutes before he teed off in the U.S. Mid-Amateur, the tournament he won to qualify for the Masters.
So the man is humble. But this week has been humbling. On Tuesday, Holtz played a practice round with Tommy Fleetwood. On Wednesday, he played a practice round with Jordan Spieth, watching patrons take photos of the 2015 Masters champion and wishing he had a camera himself. And on Thursday, Holtz stepped up to the first tee in front of thousands of people.
And Holtz knew what they were thinking, because he has been here about 15 times since his dad, Jeff, won passes in 2004. On each occasion, he has been on that side of the rope. But on Thursday, instead of jockeying for position or figuring out beer runs, he was walking to the tee box. There was a lot more to think about this time, he said.
“Oh man, the first tee, it was a little jittery for sure,” he said. “It was something I’ve never felt before, that’s for sure.”
Then, in front of that crowd and his playing partner, two-time champion Bubba Watson, Holtz striped his drive straight down the middle, then hit his second shot 28 feet from the pin. He two-putted for par. Patrons yelled his name, from his old vantage point.
Unfortunately, that was one of the golf highlights from a round that is perfectly reasonable for a long shot who earned his Masters ticket by winning at Troon Country Club in Arizona in his first USGA championship appearance, but perhaps a little lackluster for a player looking to make the cut.
A 9-over 81, with five bogeys and two double bogeys wasn’t what Holtz had hoped for.
“I really enjoyed being out there,” Holtz said. “Obviously the golf game wasn’t exactly what I wanted today, but this isn’t my full-time job and it was hard today. I was out of position the majority of the day.”
He told himself to lock in and swing hard. His dad kept telling him he’d metaphorically been here before, like when he outdueled the field at the Mid-Amateur. But, he said, nothing settled those nerves.
FOR YEARS, HOLTZ and his dad would visit here, see all the cabins, the clubhouse, the history that only the world’s greatest players and social elite will ever see. Now he has walked inside of those buildings and played the Masters. He’s living the ultimate Dad fantasy.
“I’m a 47-year-old man and I’m standing there with my son high-fiving these guys coming from the putting green to No. 1,” said Jim Cely, a patron from Augusta. “He’s the only guy that I said, ‘Do it, man. … Come on.’ That guy’s a Cinderella story.”
There are few among the hordes here who can imagine what it must feel like to be Rory McIlroy or Scottie Scheffler. But there are a lot of Brandon Holtzes out there.
On Monday, he took a picture of a row of Coors Lights set up on a table in the Crow’s Nest, the third-floor bedroom in the clubhouse where amateurs can stay, and texting his wife, Liz, a photo, of him watching the college basketball title game, saying, “Just me and my friends watching the game.”
After his round Thursday, Liz said he changed into shorts, ordered a whiskey and went to hang out on 16 “so he could enjoy as every good patron does” among many of the 50 or so members of “Team Holtz,” (as their shirts said) who got to attend the Masters while Holtz was walking the fairways.
Those stories are why he has become a media darling, consistently telling interviewers that his dream Champions Dinner, the same one where McIlroy just served yellowfin tuna carpaccio and wagyu filet mignon, would feature stuffed crust pizza — with burnt pepperoni — and cheese balls. It’s a fitting menu for a man who reveres breakfast burritos from Casey’s, the convenience store chain, and offers life tips on Instagram such as how to maximize your enjoyment of the remnants of French onion dip in the plastic tub (you crush up chips, stir them directly into the dip, then eat it with a fork to keep your hands from getting messy).
“People are calling him the people’s golfer right now, America’s golfer,” Liz said. “But all kidding aside, he is here for them as much as they are for him and probably more. That is the piece of it that’s pretty incredible about Brandon. He is cheering for everyone else all the time. And that is the part that also makes it hard on this side when it’s a hard day out there. You want to give that to people.”
But after the initial disappointment dissipates, Holtz will be left with memories for the rest of his life. On Wednesday, he played the Par 3 Contest with his son, Parker, 6, and his daughter, Mille, who’s 2. It was a full-circle moment, he said, bonding with his dad here, and now passing it on to another generation.
“I’ve got a little pressure now because all my son wanted to talk about last night was he wanted to go putt some more,” Holtz said. “And I’m like, oh boy, I better giddy up and try to do this again.”
Holtz was worried about his driver this week, so much so that he asked the USGA Hall of Fame, where it resided after he won the Mid-Am, to overnight it to Augusta. It arrived this morning, but he decided not to use it. He said at this point, he probably won’t switch Friday, either.
But he says he feels as if he has better golf in him. Liz does too.
“We’re going to sink some puts tomorrow,” she said, pumping him up. “We need to find a Casey’s for breakfast. I’m going to get you some French dip tonight for dinner.”
For now, it’s not midnight for Holtz’s story. His Mid-Am win also gives him a spot in the U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills in June. But first, he still has Friday.
Rose said he has faith in his former player, describing him as one of the most stubborn players he ever had, a lights-out shooter who didn’t back down from anyone. It has to translate, he said.
“B. Holtz was either hot,” he said, “or he was about to get hot.”
Holtz acknowledges it’s going to be hard to go back to work next week after being in such rarified air here. But he has a mortgage to pay and kids to feed. He’s grateful for a flexible career that allows him to keep dreaming at 39, but he has houses to sell. An Augusta return might be even more difficult.
“Coming back is going to be hard to be on the spectator side of the rope,” he said.
So Friday is an opportunity. Dad on the bag, walking Amen Corner together. A chance to live a dream one more day. He already has won.
“It’s hard to put in words, really. I’m trying my best, but I’m still thinking I can’t believe I just played the first round of the Masters,” Holtz said. “At this point, I don’t have anything to lose. I never really had anything to lose.”
