Where’s my name?’ Why did a missing name spark an old passion?

Mary McMahon didn't set out to become a competitive croquet player. She didn't even know competitive croquet existed.

She joined her local club and got hooked quickly. In her world, croquet meant social play, pennants, and the occasional gala day. Tournaments weren't on her radar.

"I’d been playing about 10 months," Mary recalls, "and a fellow player said to me, 'You should start playing tournaments'. I looked at him blankly.

In my world, the only competition was pennants and gala days. I didn't even know you could enter a tournament!"

She entered the Queensland Women's tournament with a handicap of 10 and no expectations. After the first day of play, she came back on Sunday morning and looked for her name on the next round's draw. It wasn't there.

"I'm looking on the same list and my name wasn't there," she says. "I said, 'I'm not on the list.'"

She assumed she was out and went to the manager.

"They said, 'Oh, that's because you are in the championship round.' Oh, what?" Mary says.

She had played so well she’d bypassed the rest of the handicap field and gone straight to the top flight, completely unaware of how the format worked.

She played well enough in the championship to be selected as a reserve for the Queensland state team. Ten months earlier, she didn't know tournaments existed. Now she was representing Queensland, all because she couldn't find her name on a list.

The path from social player to state representative took less than a year: local club, first tournament entry, strong results, state selection. Most players who start at local clubs have no idea how quickly it can go.