While we're all circumspect about whether we even remember an actual Masters party of four, no less 12-16 people, this is another eye-rolling cast for stupid people's dough...
1. That "spread" might be fit for a king, but the king better be alone in his room (like JK), because what's pictured never fed four people comfortably in the history of mankind, no less 12-16, unless they were four housecats.
2. Essentially you're paying $175 (I'll be vigilant to see who praises this and complains about golf inflation in other threads) for a sleeve of logoed, thin plastic cups, four sheets of logoed wax paper, and branded disposable potato chip wrappers...the rest of the entirety you could cook, prepare, print and present yourself for about $40...might as well, you're already providing the bread to make those Masters sandwiches and booze to make those Masters drinks. And it'd be much more interesting and fun if you and your kids drew the ANGC branding on a sleeve of Solo cups anyway. Hey but if you have enough scratch for four or five of these JacketJack packages, you can just about afford to play Pebble.
3. Perhaps, most important to the "ethos" of the thing, it's one more way that the forces of commerce persist in their sexual assault-cum-creative destruction of the few, special, anachronistic, treasures that haven't yet been despoiled. Here, that raped ethos is the idea that you had to GO to ANGC to experience its time-resistant nature, it's little perks and ante-bellum scent... it wasn't a packageable "experience" for a price... you had to be shrewd, patient, devoted and/or lucky to sample some pimento cheese and egg salad, along with the beautiful and historic golf ambiance....but it's been rotting and rotted away for years, this is only a subway token to when the thing is played virtually on a digital 1932 version of the course.