The gnomes have taken over at Augusta National… even Niall Horan wants one!

The 2025 Masters gnome has driven some people to distraction!

With a full collection valued at $25k, it’s no wonder The Masters gnome is a must-have souvenir with everyone from patrons and players’ wives to caddies and pop superstars chasing them.

You’ll have seen them by now. 18-inch-tall ceramic figures that look like Richard Attenborough (or Santa), dressed in a polo t-shirt adorned with Masters Concessions items, green cap and white slacks, carrying a green Masters backpack and eating an ice cream sandwich, standing on a small patch of grass. The Masters Gnome. Or, to be more accurate, the 2025 Masters Gnome.

Made available in 2016, the little figures disappeared in 2017, before returning in 2018. They’ve been here ever since, arriving with a different outfit for each tournament, making every iteration unique and causing a scramble to get hold of one.

Limited in number each day (rumored to be 1,000), they sell out within an hour or so of the shop opening, well-organized queues snaking around outside packed with patrons desperate to get one. Along with the miniature Masters Gnome, which is dressed in the traditional caddies’ boiler suit and green cap, they are the only items restricted to just one per customer per transaction. And there’s no point in queuing again because they’ll be gone. Your only hope is to try tomorrow if you’re lucky enough to have a ticket.

Augusta’s powers that be know just how desirable these painted figures are. They know just how desirable everything is here at Golf Disneyland. Last year The Masters official Instagram account even announced the 2024 gnome as a special guest in a post that flew at the start of the week. And it seems the public knows, too. We’ve already seen this year’s figure selling for almost ten times its $49.50 purchase price online, and their desirability has seen their price jump by $10 since they launched nine years ago. But what if you have them all – the nine different gnomes released since 2016? Well, you’re sitting on a gold mine. $25,000 is the current valuation for a pristine collection. And if you have the 2016 version, that’s the most valuable of all, selling for upwards of $5k.

I know what you’re thinking. Have you got one? Yes. I finally laid my hands on the little man (and his shrunken brother) on Thursday morning, forgoing watching the Honary Starters get the year’s first Major underway to chase a figure only marginally less flexible than the three past champions.

I’ll be honest: I wasn’t going to bother, but the hype convinced me that I needed to start collecting ceramics at the age of 43. This is how cults start. As I stand in the queue, patrons all around are talking about the gnomes and how much they want one. My mind starts to wander. What if Augusta has fitted all of the gnomes with spy cameras so they can monitor if we ever say anything negative about The Masters? But I can’t bring myself to smash it to find out because that’s what they want. They want me to spend $49.50 and then smash up my purchase while a Gnome King, who presumably resides in one of the smaller cabins, watches me sobbing in my office back in the UK. That’s it. Augusta owns me now.

This is what happens when a tournament doesn’t allow phones – your thoughts run wild when you’re standing alone in a winding queue, hand-twitching without an iPhone to scroll aimlessly through. Thankfully, I’ve reached the front, grabbed my basket, and am power-walking my way around. I can’t run – it’s banned here and anything beyond a speedy trot could see me asked to leave the property, my gnome heading off to someone else’s home in a scene straight from Toy Story. I’m desperately hunting for my coveted ceramic friend. I was told they’d be by the door, but there’s just space where boxes once sat. Where the hell is he? I can see other people have them. Surely they haven’t sold out already. The shop’s only just opened!

Wait. I remember. I read an article (that’s right, I’ve researched the gnomes) that says the staff move them every day to create exactly this sort of scavenger hunt.  I grab a patron carrying one of the white boxes and pull him around to face me. “THE GNOMES. WHERE ARE THE GNOMES?” “Dude, what the hell, they’re right behind you.” Wait. What? I swear they weren’t there a minute ago. But I’ve come too far to be creeped out now. I grab my box from one of the smiling staff who wishes me a great day. Gnome cam will soon tell her about my day. I bear hug my new friend, grabbing the miniature version for good measure as I scan the shop for the safest way to the registers. No one is getting my gnome. I pay, grab my receipt in case of any issues with security on the way out, and scarper towards the press center, dashing up the steps and shielding him from my colleagues before locking him in the cupboard behind my desk. Can you hear something tapping?

But it’s not just the patrons who want the gnomes. We’ve seen players’ wives and caddies strolling along with the boxes this week. Several celebrities have been seen queuing to get them, with Niall Horan and Noah Kahan rumored to have been after one. And people won’t part with them either, presumably for fear of the gnome coming to life and disappearing if they drop it at checking or shipping. Instead, they spend the day lugging their new friend around the course, letting him see the sights of Amen Corner along the way.

If the idea of queuing for a gnome and lugging it around the course all day doesn’t excite you, or if you simply just aren’t quick enough, then never fear. The gnomes are also available as salt and pepper shakers and Christmas decorations, while also adorning t-shirts and garden flags. The gnomes are taking over.