Syd Thomson’s contribution to Portsea GC occupies rarefied air, sitting as he does alongside Jack Relph, son of founder Arthur, as the only two people to have been club president, captain and secretary. He’s one of four living life members, yet his golf club has meant even more to him than any honour could bestow.
A long-time passion for genealogy and research drove Syd to uncover countless gems about his family going back generations. When the club decided to produce a book detailing its first 75 years the project ultimately fell into his hands, initially working with “a shopping bag full of history stuff”, then a forensic examination of meeting minutes and countless interviews.
Anecdotes fall from Syd like autumn leaves from trees, including one that speaks to his lack of pretension. He urged the committee of the time to get the book moving, to which a voice in the room declared, “Oh Syd, you can’t do it, you’re only a plumber!”
“I wasn’t quick enough to say, ‘And you’re only a bloody bean counter!’”
His story of joining the club has a similar vibe, betraying that in Portsea GC he found a place with little truck for airs and graces, where all are welcomed without bias.
Syd’s golf journey had begun when he was 12, caddying for his Uncle Les and Aunty Flo who had a house on Franklin Rd. At the time, Portsea was a 12-hole course. Another uncle soon gave him an old set of clubs and he played at 9-hole Eastwood, not far from home in Ringwood.
“I got down to about 17, then I turned 18, bought a car, got a girlfriend, worked weekends. I didn’t play for about 10 years, and had three kids by the time I came back.”
After plumbing he’d become a teacher via a stint at technical college, moved to Morwell and played for a time at Yallourn, then with a close mate and their two families built a holiday house on the Peninsula. By 1975 they were looking for a golf club to join.
Syd recalls arriving at Sorrento GC wearing an immaculate Adidas tracksuit, de rigueur at the time, and enquiring about becoming a member. The manager, an ex-Colonel, addressed him in a clipped tone.
“Do you know anyone in the club? You’ll need a proposer, a seconder and six referees. I suggest you go to Portsea – they’re looking for members.”
And so the next Sunday, Syd and his mate arrived at Portsea GC just as a committee meeting was about to end. “Laurie Jorgenson, who was administrator and collected green fees at the time, said, ‘Oh, just a minute! Jack (Relph)! We’ve got some candidates!’” They were signed up on the spot.
Winners 1982 A-Grade Pennant – (standing, from left) Ian McDonald, Tony Clarke, ‘Zoe’ Hill, Mark Abeyaratne, Craig Thomson, Grahame Neck, (kneeling) Syd Thomson and Mike Dore
Syd and that mate, Ian Thomas, have been friends since school. It warms him that when Ian was Portsea president, Syd was captain.
He’s proud of the dedication it took to whittle his handicap down to four, noting that he was never a natural golfer. “I worked my backside off to become one, I practised and practised. I never won a club championship – but I sired one!”
Craig Thomson famously became Portsea club champion at 16, the first of three wins. Each time he prevented the great Alan Bullas from being the only person to win four in a row. He went on to caddy on the European Tour, was on Mike Harwood’s bag when he was runner-up to Ian Baker-Finch in the 1991 British Open, and is still making a living caddying in America.
Official Opening of the new clubhouse presented by Peter Thomson to then club president Syd Thomson
From afar Syd has seen what a dreamy job it can be if your man is winning cheques – caddies on the US Korn Ferry tour can make $2000 a week plus an 8 percent cut of prizemoney. And how cut-throat too, like when a three-year gig with a relatively successful pro ended with an email saying, “Thanks for your efforts, I’m going down a different path.” Caddying for Uncle Les and Aunty Flo it ain’t.
Describing Portsea, Syd says: “It’s a great course. And it’s a great club.”
He loves the eclectic band of people he’s rubbed shoulders with for more than half a century,
“from blokes living on aged pensions to people who could buy this place. It’s a club – you wouldn’t want to be a snob here, or if you played on Thursday or Saturday you’d get knocked down, you wouldn’t fit in at all.”
Testament to his equanimity, Syd was a vocal opponent of the current clubhouse. “I was an ogre – the committee at the time did not like Syd Thomson, I can tell you!”
Yet once the decision was made, he moved on with a conviction that it must work. He reflects that, with the help of a knowledgeable, passionate and connected committee, it’s helped make his beloved golf club an even better place with a tantalising future.
“I’m 83 and I can see for the rest of my lifetime that this club is secure. I can’t express the difference they’ve made.
“The club is going like that,” he says, index finger pointing up, up, up. “And I’m thrilled.”
Current Life Members (Taffy Richards, Keith Coghlan, Norm Mallett & Syd Thomson)