Few have mastered the hole story of Augusta

AUGUSTA, Ga. -- It may be the most famous golf hole in the world, tucked cozily at Amen Corner, where 155 yards of Augusta National's greenest real estate is known far and wide as . . .

"It's Golden Bell," said Ben Crenshaw.

You know its name?

"It's a beautiful hole, a beautiful name," said Crenshaw of No. 12. "I know them all."

You know the name of all 18 holes at Augusta National?

Crenshaw smiled, fixed his gaze toward the sprawling clubhouse, and thought for a moment.

"Well, almost all of them," he said, and when asked which of the names he liked best, he wasted not a second.

"Tea Olive. There aren't too many golf holes named Tea Olive."

For the record, that is the opening hole at Augusta, where tradition is embraced like nowhere else and where there was such an affinity for the course that the founders took the time in the early 1930s to carefully plant different varieties of flora throughout the course. Bobby Jones, who was the inspiration behind Augusta National, was joined in the hands-on mission by the club's first chairman, Clifford Roberts, and Louis Alphonse Berckmans, a local Augustan who had a vast knowledge of the rare plants that were abundant at this former Fruitland Nurseries.

"All I know is, I think there's a different flower for each hole. That's how they get their names," said J.J. Henry, a Masters rookie. "That's about the extent to what I know."

That's pretty good for a beginner. It's more than what some veterans know about the names of the holes.

"Don't know the names, sorry," said Jim Furyk, who's here for his 11th Masters. "I call them 1, 2, 3, 4, ending at 18. I mean, I've read the names, but I don't know them."

He's not alone. Augusta native and five-time Masters participant Charles Howell offered a blank stare when asked if he knew the names of the holes.

"I don't know any of them," said Howell, who has visited Augusta National dozens of times since he became an accomplished junior.

None?

"Not a one," he said.

Then he paused, asked for a mulligan, and said, "Wait a minute, one of them is Azalea. But I'm not sure which one."

Told that it was the par-5 13th, Howell offered a sheepish smile. "Of course, makes sense," he said, remembering that the entire left side of the fairway is a magnificent testament to the rich beauty of the azaleas.

"That's the only one I wouldn't have missed," said David Toms, who laughed when told that Howell couldn't nail down which hole was called Azalea. He started to walk away, but quickly stopped. Proudly, Toms reported that he knew the name of another hole. "Magnolia," he said. "No. 5 must be Magnolia, because I always hit [the tee shot] toward a Magnolia."

Give the man a gold star because the par-4 fifth is indeed called Magnolia.

Attaching names to golf holes is not exclusive to Augusta. Courses throughout the world have done the same thing, many of them places far older than Augusta. But few are as beloved as this Alister Mackenzie gem of wide, hilly fairways and elevated, sloping greens.

The fact that the Masters has evolved into perhaps the most popular golf tournament in the world adds even more personal flavor to the surroundings, but as much as we feel we have come to know about the tidy little par-4 third, or the demanding dogleg left par-4 ninth, or the 12th, or the often tournament-changing par-3 16th, or the uphill, left-to-right par-4 18th . . . we must admit we don't know the names.

Don't feel bad, neither do longtime Augusta faces.

"I've never tried to remember them," said caddie Carl Jackson, so closely identified with this club through decades of great work, most famously alongside Crenshaw for Masters wins in 1984 and 1995. "I'm better with numbers than names, but I know they are beautiful, beautiful names."

Such as Pink Dogwood, the par-5 second. Or No. 3, Flowering Peach, which just might be one of the world's very best short par 4s. Or Redbud, the 16th that demands a tee shot over a long, daunting pond.

"I do know No. 18 is Holly, and I believe No. 14 is Chinese Fir," said Dean Wilson, who should be afforded a standing ovation. He is a Masters rookie, but he is on target with those two names, which is more than some veterans could come up with.

More than most members, too.

"I just don't think they've taken the time to memorize them," said Jackson.

Three-time Masters champion Nick Faldo concedes he's in the majority. He doesn't know the names -- except for one.

"No. 11," said Faldo. "I know No. 11 is White Dogwood, because I won there."

Indeed, Faldo's playoff wins in 1989 over Scott Hoch and in 1990 over Raymond Floyd concluded at the downhill, twisting par-4 11th.

"That's why I should go out and buy some white dogwood," said Faldo.

He probably could, too.

But whether he could find Firethorn (the par-5 15th) or whatever it is that No. 7 is named after . . .

"Pampas," said Crenshaw. "No. 7 is called Pampas."

On second thought, maybe we shouldn't doubt Crenshaw. Maybe he does know all 18 names.

Jim McCabe can be reached at jmccabe@globe.com.