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Mark Collars The Cup It was a beautiful morn that dawned on that last Saturday in September 1997. It was also the first time that the Mollymook Cup was up for grabs – a piece of silverware that in time became more revered than “The Ashes” urn or the “Most Improved Forward” for Collegians Under 10’s. For this was not just about a bunch of wannabes hitting the golf ball around a damn hard golf course over 36 holes but more a celebration of family and friends, accountants and sc

It is with great pride that I look back on the events of September 1997. Sure it may be a while ago but my victory in the inaugural Mollymook Cup was the result of a careful, calculated and cunning plan. The Mollymook Cup in 1997 was golf in its purest form. A crack field of 10 competitors, not like today’s event where any Jonny come lately can play, just two rounds of man against man. Winning the 1997 version was much more difficult than in the modern era, no golf carts to c

For those that had experienced it last year this day was a long time coming. But it finally did come and Cup number two promised plenty. Missing from last year was Barry Formosa, much to the tournament directors chagrin as word had spread of his golfing talents and a cult following had grown in the months following 97’s cup and as such large galleries were expected – his withdrawal proved costly. Also gone was Ian Poole who had caught the last train to Clarkesville, Tennesse

I had a good feeling about 1999, having won the drinking competition the year before, it was looking like a good session at the Mook. The start was a little slow with Dad asking me did I know where my clubs were on Thursday night, even surprised myself to find them and notice that they were in the exact state I left them the year before, sausage roll and Mars Bar wrappers still stuffed in the bag. Arriving on the Friday night I assumed my normal position near the tele and nex

September 2000 was, as they say, a life defining moment . Too often in life there is a tendency to set yourself targets that are simply unattainable. I was no different to most. I was often guilty of falling short. I dreamt of being a famous jockey when I was 4 . The closest I ever got was winning a horse and jockey race in Year 4 with Peter Fitzgerald at the St Brigid’s Primary sports carnival. Actually when I think of it, lugging that brute 50 metres when you are 4 ston

A school boy's dream comes true 2001 signalled a changing of the guard for the Mollymook Cup. Gone were the days of the high handicapper domination. Now would begin the time low markers took over. An unheralded schoolboy amid the stress of the HSC was set to take his place in the greatest tournament of all. Around 5.30 on Friday evening JP had the dubious honour of transporting Motormouth to the 5th Annual Mollymook Cup. Tony’s Pizza was firmly in their sights, and whilst piz

The Economy Package There’s a few different type of Mollymook Cup packages you can opt for: a) The Deluxe Package - say goodbye to loved ones on the Friday morning and enjoy 54 holes of Hilltop pleasure (or pain), cards on Friday night, JB’s brekky on Saturday morning, and dine at the Golf Club on Saturday night. This is the preferred package for most of the MMC field. Whether they get approval to take this package is another story and often requires skilled negotiation. b) T

The first time is always special. As was the fist time winning “the Cup”. The cup that is not to be confused with the Claret Jug that for those uneducated in the history of golf is the winning trophy for the British Open. The Cup that every mollymookian strives for, the cup that adorns the mantelpieces of only those skilled enough to perform on the weekend in September. Of course there is more to winning than just the cup, there is of course “The Jacket” Again not to be confu

Being entrusted with the cup and Jacket for the past 12 months I was proud to wear the Jacket at every and any opportunity I could, I wanted the whole world to know that I had climbed my Mt Everest and succeeded where so many others had failed. But the time had come to put it all on the line again but as a past winner the handicapper wasn’t about to let me get under his guard. My starting handicap was 7, my club handicap was almost double this. They say that golf is 50% menta

A recount of Todd’s preparation for Sunday’s play for the title and donning of The Jacket. A night that Todd can’t remember and the day he (we) will never forget. The conclusion of Saturday’s play for the Placek group saw the green flag drop for the race back to The Gong to watch Mark and Justin play their rugby Grand Final. By the time they arrived at WIN Stadium it was confirmed that Todd and Richard were in the Leader Group for sunday’s play. Richard broke out in a nervous

“The road is long, with many a winding turn………. that leads us ………...who knows where, who knows when………but I’m strong………….strong enough to carry on………he ain’t heavy…….he’s my handicapper”. Act 1 – Slice Of heaven I decided to go down to Mollymook on the Friday afternoon – the plan was to hit a bucket of balls on the driving range just to ensure that I had not forgotten how to slice properly. I travelled down in the company of Richard Placek who offered to chauffer me for the w

My first win! Having retired the previous year there was considerable pressure to mount a challenge but as you all know “I hated the thought of winning that jacket”. Not only did I think it was over the top but it was designed only for people of considerable more body bilk than me, you know people like Dave Gray, Tim Fitz or dare I say it Murray, haha, he would hate that. But that is enough of that what about the golf? So retired and having purchased a new set of Big Bertha

I had my transplant for leukaemia on 2nd Sept, 2011 and for quite a while things didn’t go well.. I made it home (just) for Xmas after many long weeks in isolation and intensive care. I slowly recovered strength through the year and after Fitz encouragement, decided to show for MMC 2012. The plan was a social game Sat after arriving about 11 from Huskisson, then back home to Huskisson after the game and think about Sunday . The faceless men (who are those dickheads) gave me

Day day leads the way… way The year was 2014, and the cup and jacket were under the strutting reign of a once-unexpected and (still) wildly unorthodox champion, Bazza. I had just commenced real life (at KPMG of all places), and a success-drunk and retired(?) Uncle Baz delighted in telling me numerous times “the first 20 years are the hardest….” It was also the year of the bunny. I was tuning some Finnish bird at the time, and her parents had travelled over to check it was all

The lead up to the 2019 Cup was very similar to recent years - happily doing a lot of organizing so to limit the amount to be done on the weekend. But there was one difference this year. Ali Fitz had set up our own website - www.mollymookcup.com.au, which had been populated with its history, old photos, and stories from past winners. And most importantly, access to our live leaderboard, so the results could be followed by anyone located anywhere. So the likes of David Fitz in

Having turned 60 a few years earlier I once again was in possession of a new set of clubs, but there was a major contributing factor to the golf performance and that I had received a full upgrade of my ticker with a decoak and grind and cylinder replacement. Doctors had attributed my condition the “golfers lament syndrome” a disease associated with golfers who once a year become unbearable in the lead up to a major event, just ask Jason Day and Adam Scott about it when expe