Augusta National Golf will need to ask for a mulligan after a recent clerical error.
On New Year’s Eve, Georgia real estate agent Scott Stallings received the invitation of a lifetime to compete in this year’s Masters Tournament, one of the four major championships in professional golf.
Unfortunately, the formal invite, sent via UPS, wasn’t meant for that Scott Stallings, a 60-year-old casual golfer who lives on St. Simons Island with his wife, Jenny, the New York Times reported.
Instead, the invitation was meant for the 37-year-old Scott Stallings who is a tour player with three PGA tournament victories under his belt and is ranked 54th in the world, the outlet reported.
“Right away, I know this isn’t me,” Scott Stallings, the real estate agent, told the Times. “How in the heck did it show up here?”
Scott Stallings then contacted his PGA namesake, who lives in Knoxville, Tennessee, via an Instagram direct message that said he was “sure this is NOT for me.”
“It’s a very nice package complete with everything needed to attend,” the real estate agent added.
After some initial skepticism that the DM was a hoax, Scott Stallings the PGA pro ultimately shared the news on his Instagram account.
“Literally had been checking the mailbox five times a day and then I got this random DM yesterday,” the golfer said. “My Masters invite got sent to a different Scott Stallings.”
The two men and their wives, who are named Jenny and Jennifer, spoke on the phone and arranged to have the invitation sent to the golfer. The PGA pro told the Times he also invited the real estate agent to dinner and practice round at the Masters, which is played in April, to thank him for forwarding the invitation.
While Augusta National did not provide a comment to the Times, the real estate agent speculated that he received the invitation because the two men have the same name, wives who have similar names, and live in the same region of the country.
Jenny Stallings later took a video of her husband at a UPS store, sending the invitation to its proper place.
— Ted Glanzer