CAPTAINS CUP

The History of The Captains Cup

The Philadelphia Cricket Club. The Captains Cup. Part fact, part fiction, everything about this legendary chalice is cloaked in mystery. Indeed, as the ranks of Cricket Club members old enough to remember it’s improbable story has slowly dwindled, the tale of the Captains Cup was very nearly lost forever. Even those fortunate enough to be entrusted with the oral history passed down from those club elders referred to with quiet reverence as the “Knights of the Round Table” were not sure whether the stories were true or if the cup had ever even existed other than through the haze of these stalwarts’ Chesterfields and bourbon-soaked reminisces.

But exist it did, and exist it does. The history of the Captains Cup is a tale for the ages. A tale of loss, intrigue, hope & redemption. Here is its story.

Genesis – Born of Futility

This much is known. From notes taken by Barr Smith, Secretary, on June, 6, 1940 at a regularly scheduled meeting of the Cricket Club Golf Committee a lively discussion took place regarding the abject failure of the men’s golf team to win what were then known as the Golf Association of Philadelphia Suburban League Matches. Indeed, even though the Cricket Club was a founding member of the GAP, the club’s futility in team match play had stretched to an inconceivable 45 years and all agreed that something needed to be done.

To that end, men’s Tournament Chair G. Elbert “Kip” Carthager put forth a radical idea: he proposed that the men’s teams hold an annual spring intra-squad tournament contested prior to the first Suburban League matches for the express purpose of sharpening the players’ games while furthering team cohesion, morale and general bonhomie. He further proposed that 1) the intra-squad teams be drawn at random from all eligible players to encourage play with new & different partners and, 2) that a gleaming trophy be commissioned and presented to the winning team’s captain – The Captains Cup.

A review of notes from subsequent Committee meetings indicate that the idea was not immediately embraced by all and indeed, the debate raged well into the new year. Opposition was intense and centered around two key points: First, the idea of members playing with new & different partners was met with a skepticism & incredulity bordering on outright hostility. Opponents repeatedly questioned why such a scheme was necessary in that it would mean that members would not be able to play with their regular partners, noting that some such partnerships stretched back decades. Pointing out that the club’s abysmal Suburban League record stretched back equally as far only seems to have further inflamed passions. Second, the idea of commissioning an elaborate trophy was met with equally fierce opposition with many members calling it “showy” and predicting that the Cup (whose cost was estimated to range into the “tens” of dollars) would “surely bankrupt the club”.

In the end Carthager and his supporters were able to prevail and records show that following an affirmative vote Golf Chairman Woolbert “Woosie” Betz ordered that the Captains Cup be commissioned on March 12, 1941.

Switched at Birth

A bill of sale recovered from the Chestnut Hill Historical Society shows that on March 16, 1941 a rush order was placed by longtime Cricket Club bookkeeper Bernice “Bitzie” O’Donnell, with the Maschmeyer, Richards Company of St. Louis, Missouri for delivery of a soaring loving cup with art deco-inspired handles based on sketches & instructions provided by Messrs. Carthager & Betz. Fatefully, Mrs. O’Donnell ignored directions to have the cup created by Philadelphia’s J.E Caldwell & Co., opting on her own to place the order with Maschmeyer, Richards. While her motivation remains somewhat of a mystery, Cricket Club legend has it that Mrs. O’Donnell felt that Caldwell was a “fancy shmancy outfit” and that anyway, the cheaper Maschmeyer firm had done a fine job on her sister Eunice’s wedding silver.

At around the same time the Burkart Manufacturing Company of Missoula, Montana faced a dilemma. Its popular bowling league (newly expanded to 24 five-man teams) needed a new champion’s trophy to replace the original which had been lost in an unfortunate & somewhat mysterious ice-fishing accident. With time running short before the start of the Spring bowling season they placed a rush order for a new trophy with their longtime friends at the Maschmeyer, Richards Company of St. Louis, Missouri.

While details are sketchy at best, what transpired next had a profound impact on the fortunes of both the Cricket Club men’s teams and the Burkart Manufacturing Company. For reasons that have never been adequately explained, the orders for the two trophies were somehow transposed. And while the folks at Burkart were understandably thrilled to receive a beautiful art deco loving cup commemorating their bowling league team champions, the reaction at the Cricket Club was decidedly less enthusiastic. To make matters worse, the mistaken trophy was delivered to the club on the eve of the inaugural competition and Carthager & Betz were left with no alternative but to attempt to make the best of things.

Fall From Grace

Perhaps the PCC Captains Cup was an idea whose time had not yet come. Under any circumstances asking Cricket Club members to play outside of their normal games would remain, shall we say “difficult” for many years. However, looking back, the thing that probably spelled doom for the Captains Cup in the spring of 1941 was the ultimate futility of all efforts to come up with a plausible explanation as to why the scions of old-line Chestnut Hill families were being asked to compete for a giant bronze bowling pin bearing the lofty inscription:

The Philadelphia Cricket Club
Annual Spring Team Challenge
THE CAPTAINS CUP

It just didn’t fly, and after that one disastrous year the cup-cum-bowling pin was quietly retired.
As for Carthager & Betz, upon contacting the folks at the Burkart Manufacturing Co. about exchanging the mistakenly switched trophies, the duo were not only rebuffed but given rather indelicate & colorful suggestions as to alternative uses for the bronze bowling pin. Given the acrimonious nature of the decision to commission the cup in the first place, it is not surprising that back home the reaction at the Cricket Club was no less severe. Carthager & Betz were summarily stripped of all Committee duties, becoming pariahs and general laughing stocks. Indeed things became so bad for the two that they resigned from the club and quit the game altogether, but not before Carthager uttered an oath that would become the club’s albatross for decades to come.

The Curse of the Captains Cup

“You will never win the Suburban League Matches until the Captains Cup is returned to the Cricket Club”.
Nobody thought much of it at the time, just the mutterings of an embittered and broken old man on his way out the door, bowling pin under his arm.

But as time went by and the Cricket Club record of team match futility stretched on for years and decades, the Knights of the Round Table exhaled their unfiltereds and whispered quietly amongst themselves that “maybe old Kip & Woosie weren’t so batshit after all”. And so began a secret campaign that would outlive nearly all of them; to find and return the Captains Cup to its rightful home.

The Search

They started in the logical place, dispatching legendary member Ed “Ed” Cullen in his battered 1967 Town & Country station wagon over 2000 miles to the headquarters of the Burkart Manufacturing Company. But when he arrived in Missoula all he found was a long-empty shell of a building and a few angry old men who really didn’t want to talk about what had happened to the company that had once been the bedrock of their community. “It was that goddamn bowling league” one of them finally muttered, and the story came rushing forward. “Once they got that fancy trophy with the wings that’s all any of them cared about - winning the bowling league & getting their names on that damn trophy…it was like it cast a spell or something, nobody cared about work anymore & it was nothing but bowling all the time”. And so Ed learned of the unfortunate demise of the Burkart Manufacturing Company. Worse yet than the loss of their company, jobs & community, nobody had a clue what had become of the cup.

And so they chased one dead-end lead after another. And as the years rolled by and their numbers dwindled, as the untold miles spent criss-crossing the length & breadth of the country took its toll on both Ed and his ancient station wagon, the Knights of the Round Table despaired that their quest would be in vain. They thought they had found it on more than one occasion, particularly back in May of 1996 as the 100th anniversary of the club’s GAP “0-fer” approached, when Barr Smith himself swore he saw it on TV. Ed was roused & immediately dispatched to Indianapolis where he managed to snatch up the target and spirit it back to Flourtown only to learn that what had caught Barr’s eye was in fact the Borg-Warner trophy, which needed to be returned forthwith and with apologies all around.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then the trail went cold. And the futility persisted. One hundred and sixteen years’ worth.

17-0

April 6, 2013. One week before the start of another season of Suburban League Matches (now called the GAP Team Matches).  A young man walks into Jim Smith Jr’s pro shop at the Philadelphia Cricket Club with something large and shiny under his arm. Says his name is G. Elbert “Tripp” Carthager, 3rd and he has an amazing tale told to him by his late grandfather.

Further, he has something that belongs here - the Captains Cup.