By Steve Eubanks
GolfWeb contributor

Before the 1996 Masters telecast, the Tokyo Broadcasting System, which televises the event in Japan, devised an elaborate and alarmingly expensive computer graphics program to bring the action home for their viewers.

Not only did the program show three-dimensional animated images of Augusta National's rolling greens, but it also anticipated the breaks of various putts.

Just place an imaginary ball on the animated green, and, with certain data keyed in, the program would show viewers how much the putt broke before the caddy took the putter out of the bag.

Japanese television producers couldn't have been prouder of their innovation. They surveyed every bump, roll, crown and slope of Augusta National's greens under the watchful eye of an ever-looming club staff. Once their work was complete and the sun had long-since set behind the pines the Japanese technicians responsible for the program plugged in their data and asked Augusta National personnel one critical question:

"What is the green speed?"

Moments later Tokyo Broadcasting executives realized all their work was for naught. The program couldn't anticipate the line and break of a putt without having the one variable Augusta National officials wouldn't give them: green speed.

"They didn't understand it," former assistant superintendent Greg Asmond said. "But if the club doesn't want certain information out, it's not going to give it out to anybody."

The grounds crew at Augusta is shrouded in secrecy.(Allsport)

Green speed at the Masters (long rumored as the fastest in golf by two or three feet) is only one of the secrets that Augusta officials won't share. In fact, part of Augusta's mystique is the shroud of secrecy surrounding everything that goes on behind the big green hedges off Washington Road. If it has anything to do with the Masters tournament, the likelihood of getting a complete answer is less than 50/50.

If you have questions about the club, the membership, the policies, practices, or specifics of how things are done at Augusta National, don't bother; Only the club chairman, Hootie Johnson, can comment on the club, and, more often than not Johnson chooses to pass.

When bulldozers and brick layers graced the hallowed grounds last summer and began work on the most substantive course alterations in over a decade, officials said nothing. When a photographer rented an airplane and took photos of the work-in-progress (a shot that found its way to the cover of Golf World magazine) both the magazine and the local charter air service got a call from Augusta National.

Even after the renovations were complete, officials at the National limited the number of photographers and reporters allowed on the grounds. "It was like pool reporting during the Gulf War," one photographer said of the iron-fisted way the media was handled. "You would have thought it was a national security instillation."

Truth is, the Savannah River Nuclear Facility (the highest-level national security installation around Augusta) allows greater access to the media and provides more information to the public than Augusta National, a 365-acre golf club with no plutonium on the premises.

Everyone knows that despite intense lobbying on his part, Bill Gates was not issued an invitation to join Augusta National last year. Few, however, know that Dr. Howard Hudson, an orthopedic specialist who practices in Evans, Ga., was invited into the fraternity of greencoats. No one particularly cared about Hudson, except for the dichotomy his invitation and Gates' rejection presented. Still, when Hudson's name appeared in print apoplectic Augusta personnel were on the phone chastising editors and plugging leaks.

It doesn't stop there. From the silly to the sublime, Augusta National guards information in a draconian fashion that has made for some humorous encounters over the years. When the maintenance staff began mowing the incline in front of the tenth green in a pattern from the green back into the fairway, several breathless reporters speculated that this was an attempt to somehow make the hole play longer. The truth, as superintendent Marsh Benson said at the time, was that mowers worked better when running downhill rather than uphill.

Clifford Roberts ran Augusta with an iron fist.(Provided to SportsLine)

Under any other circumstances at any other golf course not only would those outrageous speculations been dismissed, but no one would have cared in the first place. Because of Augusta's closely guarded secrets the most inane fact becomes news.

The club's closed-mouth policies can be traced back to the club's original chairman, Clifford Roberts, a former Wall Street investment banker and candidate for Control Freak of the Century. Nothing went on inside the grounds at Augusta National without Roberts' knowledge and approval, and no information was disseminated outside the confines of the membership unless by him.

Crowd size at the Masters is never announced, even though the National knows exactly how many "patrons" pass through its gates. This goes back to Roberts, who said any number would be an "estimate," and Augusta National "doesn't operate on estimates."

That sort of secrecy continued throughout Roberts' reign, and even after his death. When Roberts committed suicide his remains were cremated, as per his wishes, and his ashes were sprinkled or buried (no one will say which) at the club (no one will say where). Again, were it any other tournament, any other course, and any other club chairman no one would care. The fact that it is a secret only heightens the desire to learn the truth.

Which brings us back to the renovations, the rough, and the desire of Augusta National officials for the public to learn as little as possible about all of the above. "It's just the way they operate," one club employee said. "Things have always been that way."

He's right. The first tee, for example, has been moved back several times over the years, but the yardage on the scorecard has never changed. Players were not aware that anything was different until tee shots that should easily clear the right fairway bunker plopped in the middle of the white North Carolina sand. The same is true of the 15th hole, which, according to the card, is the same 500-yard hole it was when Gene Sarazen hit the 4-wood shot heard round the world. In examining old photos and tournament films, however, the tee has clearly been moved back over the years -- another silly secret the greencoats have chosen not to share.

This year the changes will be evident for everyone to see. Added length, added rough, and added trees will certainly raise scores, perhaps to the point where, as Ernie Els said, "Tiger's record will never be broken."

But don't expect to learn the green speed, or the attendance figures, or the members' names. Inside the magnolia haven of Augusta, those things are simply none of your business, thank you.

Editor's note: Noted author Steve Eubanks is a contributor to GolfWeb.