They love a good dollop of nostalgia at Augusta. By the time you’ve ambled down the length of Magnolia Lane, you’re actually covered in a light dusting of sepia.

With its timeless traditions, glorious yesteryears and schmaltzy nods to the past, the regular outpourings of dewy-eyed reverence and teary veneration could just about burst the banks of Rae’s Creek.

There’s always something to reflect on. Most of it cherished, some of it controversial. This year, for instance, marks the 50th anniversary of Bob Goalby’s contentious conquest in 1968 when he finished tied at the top with Roberto De Vicenzo and was handed the green jacket when it came to light that De Vicenzo had signed for a wrong score. The Butler Cabin had a sombre atmosphere akin to Dracula’s crypt.

A decade later, in 1978, Gary Player came from seven shots behind on the final day to win golf’s most sought after blazer for a third time at 42 years young.

And of course, 2018 marks the 30th anniversary of oor Sandy’s monumental triumph of 1988. That iconic 7-iron has been replayed so many times over the years it’s probably worn itself into a 9-iron.

At the age of 60, Lyle will be back at Augusta next week for the 37th time. He’s still got a fair bit to go to reel in the evergreen Player, who played in the Masters 52 times and is still existing on a sprightly diet of press-ups and twigs, but in this tournament which worships its past champions like no other, Lyle can keep fighting the good fight and teeing-up well into his dotage.

“Augusta has kicked my butt many times, but I want to kick its butt one more time before I finish up here,” said a defiant Lyle, who has not made the Masters cut since 2014 but is not going to let this exacting stretch of Georgia golfing real estate get the better of him.

“It is frightening to think it will be 30 years since I won it. The fact it has gone so quickly is a good sign because it means you have enjoyed the experience.

“As a player, you know yourself if the course is getting too long or it’s impossible to break 80. Then you know it’s time.

“If your game goes, it’s time to walk away and let someone else have your spot. But I still feel that I am hitting the ball long enough, so I can easily manage a couple more years.”

Augusta has always been a comforting haven for the game’s elder statesmen. Fuzzy Zoeller may have made the withering assessment that “there sure are a lot of old farts who play here” as he cast his eye over some of the more ceremonial and increasingly doddering performances of the auld yins but rousing veteran exploits are often as much a part of the Masters as those blooming azaleas.

Amid Augusta’s flooery furnishings, there are always one or two clocks being turned back. It’s 20 years now since the great Jack Nicklaus struck another blow for the golden oldies as this Golden Bear mounted a thrilling final day assault and ended up in a share of sixth at the age of 58.

Twelve years earlier, in 1986, Nicklaus became the oldest player to snuggle into a green jacket when he won his 18th and final major title at 46. In 1998, Nicklaus hit the high notes again with something of a golfing reprise as he closed with an age-defying 68 that stirred the senses and invigorated the spirits.

“It was okay for an old guy,” reflected Nicklaus. “I played the tournament on one leg. I had my hip replaced nine months later. I could still walk but wasn’t very good.”

Jack may not have been very nimble or very quick but his sentimental journey over Augusta’s storied fairways and greens just about turned the 1998 event into his own personal testimonial. The patrons applauded their hands raw.

Next week, Phil Mickelson, buoyed by his first win in nearly five years a couple of weeks ago, will be attempting to become the oldest man to win the Masters at 47.

These are different days to Jack’s roaring forties, of course. “I think that 46 is not an unusual number (to win now) but it was then,” he said of his 1986 victory. “Anything over 40 back then was very unusual.”

Nicklaus made his final Augusta appearance in 2005 at the age of 65. Lyle, meanwhile, has a few more in him yet. He’ll be the only Scotsman in the field as his younger compatriots struggle to make an impact on the world rankings and follow the trail Lyle once blazed.

At least we Scots can cling to those magical Masters memories. It’s all we have at the moment.