Almanac (Golf) Life: The Schmodlow Cup
The Schmodlow Cup …
I’ve often wondered when watching documentaries like Time Team why ancient ruins are submerged so deeply. Are we very slowly being buried under layers of dust and grit? And if so, what will future civilizations make of our way of life when they dig us up? And what will they make of the Schmodlow Cup?
In earlier days of our marriage, we would make an annual pilgrimage to Naracoorte to stay with Marley’s brother Otto and wife Faye, and Marley’s sister Dulcie and husband Peter. These were wonderful holidays on farms with lots of fun-filled chatter over ex-Kraft-cream-cheese glasses of port, and where the world’s problems were generally only finally solved in the early hours of the morning.
This pilgrimage always involved a game of golf between the men on the very beautiful Naracoorte Golf Course.
Otto (Modra) is an athlete and sportsman. He played two games for Norwood Redlegs FC before his father told him that farming in the South-East should be his first priority. Otto is well-known as an excellent footballer there and takes easily to any sport, including golf.
Peter (Schneider) was tall, fit, strong and coordinated, and he took to golf well because, he said, it was similar to hoeing weeds in paddocks. Peter had a wonderfully laid-back personality and maybe rightly saw golf as a game. I once saw him take seven shots in a bunker and emerge smiling.
Like Otto, I took this frustrating game seriously, so much so that when our baby boy Daniel needed minding (as most babies do) I gave up my Saturday afternoon hockey for a season to play Saturday morning golf so that my wife Marley could play netball.
As the years went by this annual game of golf in Naracoorte grew in stature among us. So much so that when I was in a Geelong op-shop I spied and bought a small trophy-like vase with $1 texta-ed on its bottom. Quite deftly (I thought) I drew a couple of golf-sticks on its side with the title – ‘The Schmodlow Cup’ – SCH(neider)MOD(ra)(Thur)LOW. We put our scorecards in the cup, and it travelled with that year’s winner.
Otto and I both had golf handicaps and we gave Peter the maximum. Over the years Otto and I more or less shared the trophy, with Peter sometimes beating us on handicap. We always stopped for a beer halfway round and had a great time together.
As we got more into careers, moved interstate, had kids, and got busier, sadly the annual Naracoorte pilgrimage fell away.
Much more sadly, in 2009 at age 67 the very lovely Peter died from a heart attack.
We all still miss that laconic, fun-filled, caring and always-smiling man. At his funeral Otto and I decided that without the SCH in Shmodlow, the Cup needed to stay with the person who had given us an example of true sportsmanship and ‘it’s only a game’ perspective – as well as so much laughter.
At Peter’s interment and with tears streaming from eyes we both placed the cup down on to Pete’s coffin. He holds the cup until we are re-united and is probably getting in some early practice on heavenly fairways and greens without bunkers.
I wonder what future civilizations will make of the Schmodlow Cup when they dig it up. I’m pretty sure they won’t guestimate what fun it gave us and the quality of the man who holds the cup into perpetuity.
Image: Naracoorte Golf Club
Read more stories from Andy Thurlow Here
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About
Born on Guernsey in the Channel Islands, my parents migrated to this wonderful country when I was 7. As teachers, my wife and I ‘worked’ in some pretty SA and Queensland tourist locations and ended up in the Barossa Valley, where I enjoy gardening, socialising, reading, writing, sport, travel, handyman projects and wine. Since retiring I’ve written 3 published biographies about Kieran Modra, Rolph and Marg Mayer and Margaret Ames. I started a Valley social cycling and coffee-ing club called the ‘Sprocket Rockets’ https://www.facebook.com/cyclingfunbarossa/ After some success at hockey, volleyball, tennis, golf, Church picnic sprints and the ‘Henley on Todd’ regatta, I’ve settled down to walking, cycling, Fantasy Football and watching sport, particularly AFL and cricket. A Queenslander described me as an ‘Ex-Pommie, ex-Victorian who barracks for Port Adelaide’ so it can only be up from there!
Played Naracoorte 50 years ago on one of many Adelaide – Melbourne along the coast and back along the Murray road trips (with Dad then mates). Stopping only for golf and refreshment.
Grand track. Grand memories.
What a beautiful yarn Andy.
A bit like where a much loved local wicket keeper is buried with his gloves. That sort of thing.
Love your style.
RDL
Love the yarn Andy. Peter sounds like a top bloke.
Naracoorte is an excellent country track, and a Morcom course. My brother and family lived there for a dozen or so years and they were members. Played it many times. One of those courses that is a delight to walk around.
Family Harms recently played The Brown Slipper at Tanunda Pines. Perhaps more on that another day.
Love the yarn. Was fortunate to be invited by the Mackie clan to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the birth of their father and grand father, Jim Mackie,with a golf game at Glenelg on Friday last. A great day, 7 Mackies and me. Jimbo shot his age or better more than once while playing at his home course at Blackwood. Golf can be a great social game.