Pull up a seat. Rest your feet.

Announcer Johnny Paulk (right) addresses patrons at the ninth hole during the Par-3 Contest. Many of the antics that spice up the pre-tournament event happen on the eighth and ninth holes. (Michael Holahan/Staff)

If you can find a spot, that is.

The hillside overlooking Ike's Pond, a scenic but deserted spot 364 days a year, draws a crowd for the Masters' Par-3 Contest. Every patch of grass, each pile of pine straw is occupied, even the thin spots among the decorative ground cover.

The final-hole hijinks are always a huge attraction on Masters Wednesday. Ike's Pond is home to Nos. 8 and 9, where the contest is willingly lost by any golfer near the top of the leaderboard.

Winning the Par-3 is a curse, after all. The Par-3 champion has never won the green jacket in the same Masters Week.

Therefore, the hillside residents revel in the chance to see the world's best players "lose" a wedge shot into the pond; or let their toddler sons or daughters attempt a crucial birdie putt.

The most sought-after seats are right behind the ninth green, within earshot of the participants. Shaded by stately Georgia pines and framed by yellow azaleas, the area is a few hundred yards from where golf's greatest drama will play out late Sunday afternoon. Still, the atmosphere might as well be from another planet.

The players' children star here. Putting your son or daughter on the bag for the Par-3 Contest is a Masters tradition, even though they're not big enough to carry all the clubs.

At No. 9, they handle the putting - even with a competitor's ball.

Connor Henry, the 2-year-old son of J.J. Henry, tried to sabotage Samuel Pampling's putt. He ran across the green and picked up Pampling's ball. The dads stepped in, remarked the ball and Sam sank a 10-footer for his dad, Rod. The gallery approved, and Connor followed with his own putt. All the adults beamed.

"We look forward to it more than the kids do," said Jim Furyk, whose son and daughter shared his caddying duties.