In general, first-timers react to Augusta National and the Masters Tournament like children react to ice cream and snow days.

They tap dance. Giggle. Out of their mouths come waterfalls of words, seemingly in color, sometimes understandable, sometimes in babble.

Beautiful.

Others go into a golf comma, victims of sensory overload. Augusta National will do that to golf fans, or to fans of nature.

My first look was 2012. Was taken straight out to 7 green at 8 o’clock. Had been there earlier watching the sun rise. Teddy wept.

Was told to get over to 15 and write about the big new bathroom sort of behind the green. I interviewed a urinal and some faucets. It was awesome. “If I have to be a urinal,” the urinal said, “Augusta National is the place to be one.”

Four guys I know went for the first time Monday. One of them had won the lottery for tickets and now if he ever needs an organ transplant he has three donors.

The first reported in as soon as they’d gotten back to their car and cell phones.  No surprise, his response was Biblical.

Moses, a scratch golfer with the staff and all, asked to see God and God said no, but he would pass over him and hide Moses in the cleft of the rock. (I am paraphrasing here, Lord have mercy.) But even the shadow of God passing over Moses left Moses glowing.

And that’s what my guy said. He couldn’t describe his Augusta experience, but on a much lesser scale than the Moses and God comparison, he felt he’d still be glowing for weeks.

Yes. That. Pretty good way to describe the way I felt when I was in his very tired shoes.

Another of the quartet said that “seeing Tiger, Rory, DJ and all the other top guys was cool. Skipping (balls across the pond) on 16. Course was unreal.” This guy is a very efficient man who loves life but who I have never seen very outwardly excited. For him to say this was equivalent to him doing a somersault.

Another guy has still been too overcome to speak.

And the final guy of the first-time quartet, of German descent, said, “Es war ein wannsinns tag. Danke Schoen.” Which I think means either “that was incredible and mind-blowing. Thank you,” or “If you find a better egg salad sandwich I’ll eat my hat.”

—

Augusta National Chairman Fred Ridley welcomed the media Wednesday morning and, because the Masters does things right, he began with tributes to Doug Ford, the 1957 Masters champion who passed away in May, and Dan Jenkins, who passed away March 7 and spent one week of each of the past 68 Aprils in Augusta.

“We were saddened by the passing of Dan Jenkins,” Ridley said. “We were fortunate Dan made the Masters his destination, his priority, for the past 68 years. During that time, he blessed us with his masterful prose and his quick wit, which flowed from the printed page into countless conversations and friendships he made here at Augusta National.

“So this week, we celebrate Dan Jenkins and all he meant to the Masters Tournament for so many years. Covering the Masters was only part of the reason Dan loved Augusta. More importantly was the bond he shared with all of you, his closest friends, with whom he would reunite every April without interruption, without fail.

“Dan will be remembered for the words he wrote, the stories he told, and the people whose lives he touched.”

At Dan’s command post in the press room was one of his hats, his press badge, and programs from the service March 15 in Fort Worth that celebrated his priceless and generous life.

He covered 232 Majors: 68 Masters (his favorite), 63 U.S. Opens, 45 British Opens, 56 PGAs. A scratch golfer and the leader of a couple of Southwest Conference golf championship teams at TCU as a young man, he is one of three writers inducted into the World Golf Hall of Fame and the only one to “go in vertical,” which he loved to say.

He is survived by his wife June — he called her his Secret Weapon and she of course was — and their three children: twin brother and sister Marty and Sally and son Danny. And many, many friends because he was so good at being one.

One more note: Colonial in his Fort Worth hometown had its annual media golf tournament earlier this week. They played by The Jenkins Rules: everyone got one free throw. In his later life, the rule was that you could pick one up and throw it. Guy knew how to spread the fun around.

—

Tournament begins Thursday: Let’s say we do know know what will happen but we can guesstimate with the best of them.

Winner: Tommy Fleetwood. Great name. Wonderful game. Solid. Tied for 17^th last year. Or two-time champ Bubba Watson, tied for 5^th last year.

Low Spaniard: John Rahm. Young and hungry. Big boy.

Low Northern Irishman: Rory McElroy (I am sitting in the press room by Brian from Ireland, a good man, and Rory is his boy, so…Plus McElroy is the 8-1 favorite, for good reason.)

Low Italian: Francesco Molinari.

Second Low Italian: Chef Boy-ar-dee.

Low Swede: Henrick Stenson.

Breakthrough Guys: Paul Casey, who we keep pulling for to win something, a great iron player (looking forward to seeing how he plays No. 5, which is 40 yards longer than last year and will be accepting 4 and 5 irons into its redone green.); Ian Poulter just because he’s a bad dude and not shaken — but it probably won’t happen because he’s good but not good enough, which is no shame here; Dustin Johnson because he’s ranked No. 2 in the world (but that’s the only reason) and Justin Rose because he defines “unfazed” and because he’s ranked No. 1 in the world.

Wait. Forgot…

Low German: Martin Kaymer.

Danke Schoen!

-30-