Highs and Lows... and Chili

Tournaments, man. Tournaments.

I love them even when I'm hating them.

This year's Steili with Chili tournament at Fort Steilacoom DGC was packed full with great people, somewhat decent weather and, for yours truly, a wide range of mental stages.

Here's what I learned.

When I head out to throw I'm usually alone. Since I'm alone I'm able to practice without throwing an entire round.

My routine usually involves stretching, putting, throwing in a field and then playing two or three different holes over and over.

The one aspect of disc golf I don't practice is the very situation I kept finding myself in during round one. I'm talking about the art of the scramble.

This tournament helped me realize that I'm horribly lacking creativity in my game. During practice I need to purposefully place myself in the thickest of shit and gracefully find my way out.

Mental Stage One: Happiness

Steilacoom, WA. is about an hour and a half away from me. In the past I've forced myself out of a warm bed and on to a dark road at an awful time in the freezing morning. The commute there isn't too bad, but the drive home is taxing.

I've had to call my wife before and have her talk to me so I didn't fall asleep on the road while making my way home through Seattle.

This year my lovely wife bought my entry fee and a hotel room for my birthday. We were going to stretch this experience out over two days.

We left Friday morning on December 5th and drove straight to the three-course complex. The plan was to play as much of the NW course as our three-year-old would allow and then practice a couple of holes on the SE course.

Surprisingly we were able to play most of the NW spread, even in the rain, before the baby girl's legs tired out. I think she loved the walk. It's such a beautiful scene.

I went on to practice the SE holes one and four a couple of times while the ladies kept warm and dry in the car. I would have played more, but I was getting hungry and I didn't want them to die of boredom.

My main goal on SE was to choose the right disc for hole four.

Imagine standing on a tee on top of a hill. Not a magnificent, top-of-the-world style hill, but more of a severe beer belly sized hill. There's an enormous mando tree straight ahead with a thousand fingers out-stretched and eagerly waiting to swat down any close attempt at passing on the left side. The basket is out in the boonies off to the right around 700 feet.

For a right-handed backhand player with a weak-sauce sidearm, this drive forces me to throw a high anny around the tree. Here's the tricky part though – I had to make sure my drive didn't flex back at the end.

Considering the basket was in the long position I would need a clear run-up space for my second drive. If my first shot flexed back I would be stuck in chest-high bush.

The Legacy Mongoose I have is more flipper than the dolphin. That thing turns hard and dives. It's a great roller and when launched high on an anny line it has no real glide, but I was OK with that as long as it landed in the open. After practicing a couple of times with that disc I knew it was the right choice for the tournament, or so I thought.

We left the complex in good spirits. I felt like I was ready to compete against the courses and I was also ready to fill my belly with something stacked with bacon.

Since our hotel was in Tacoma we searched for a hamburger joint near by.

Friesenburgers, man. Friesenburgers.

Holy double cheeseburger... with a fried egg!

You walk in to a small room and there's just a couple of folks behind the counter. There are plenty of items to choose from on the menu, but my eyes were immediately pulled toward the word "Friesenburger." It's two buns separated by two 1/4 pound beef patties, double the cheddar, a sizzling egg and a couple of thick, professional slices of bacon.

I can't wait to go back.

After lunch we made our way to our hotel, checked in and went for a peaceful walk to The Museum of Glass. For dinner we found a local pizza joint, Puget Sound Pizza, and discovered that something was up with Tacoma.

The pizza was crazy delicious. I think there was rosemary in the crust, or something. While we were waiting for our order I walked up the street and filled my Boundary Bay growler with Cigar Box IPA from Tacoma Brewing Co.

By the end of the night we were wondering if we should move to Tacoma. Out of four different places we visited, every one of them set a new standard for us to compare similar companies to.

Mental Stage two: Panic

This year's temperature of 40 something was more tolerable than last year's 20 something. I was dropped off early enough to get plenty of warm-up time in. My putting felt good, I three'd a couple of par fours and I stretched, but I felt a little foggy in the mind, like I wasn't fully awake yet, or hungover from bitchin' food and beer from the night before.

We were down one man when my card was ready to tee off. I worried about it a little, but figured there was nothing I could do. We were staring down hole one on the NW course and I was first to tee off.

You know those drives you want to immediately do over? Yep, I clipped a tree right off the tee and thought to myself, "Here we go."

I tried shaking off whatever it was holding me back, but by the time I started shooting well we were on hole 17.

The round was a complete nightmare. I couldn't catch a break. I found myself in the high rough among trees and bushes all round. I probably threw more sidearms, which I usually use to get out of trouble, than I have ever thrown before.

I just couldn't believe it.

I think par was 56. I finished with a 72. It is now, unofficially, the worst rated round (810) of my life. I spent the entire break between rounds wondering how I was going to get out of this disaster.

After eating my warm bowl of chili I started to putt again. I was furious and determined to redeem the day.

Mental Stage Three: Calmly Aggressive

During the break I thought I figured out what my deal was. In practice the day before and early that morning I was taking a second to visualize my line and then clearing my mind and going for it.

During my first round I continually tried to recreate and force similar shots from practice, but I was powering down like my drives were touch shots all of a sudden. I slowed down and became hesitant. I was trying to throw the perfect lines.

Since I failed miserably, I went in to the second round on the SE course with my old plan of attacking the course. I started off with a bunch of pars. I even got the par on hole four after watching my Mongoose flex back. I never thought I would see that happen, but it did and I was lucky enough to land in a semi-open area with just enough room for a small run up.

Hole six really change the day. It's an elevated hyzer shot through a gap in the trees and down to a basket roughly 270 feet away. I took my Legacy Ghost out of my bag, visualized my line, forgot about everything and threw. My horrible shaving cream dye swirled rapidly as I watched the disc pierce the gap and start diving toward the basket.

That Ghost must have hit every chain on the basket considering the sound of the ching, but it wasn't enough to stick.

Damn. There went my first tournament ace.

I found out later that nobody had aced all day and I could have walked with the ace pot. Oh well. I got the bird and moved on. While standing on the next tee I forgot all about it and just played.

I ended up shooting a 56. I believe par was 58. I had just shot the best, unofficial round (963) of my life.

It wasn't enough to push me anywhere near the cash, but it was enough to ease my mind.

I felt like I accomplished something and learned a lot about myself as a disc golfer.

Who shoots the worst sanctioned round and best sanctioned round of their lives in the same tournament?

I do.

I hope that's the last time.

After the first round I had the worst score in advanced. My second round was beat by only three other advanced players. They were all tied at 54. One other advanced player tied my 56. There were 26 of us.

What a pure mind beating. I was happy to be there though. The event was ran very well by Mark from Disc Golf Armory and he was helped out by a bunch of others. There were three pairs of Keens raffled off along with discs, we all received a voucher for $15 to use toward anything in the Armory and the chili was yummy.

I can't wait to play it again next year.

GHEDI: Griffin Hill Equinox Disc Invitational

Hot Chick award

This is how I remember the conversation starting.

"You know the Count?"

I said, "The what?"

"The Count. Count Ferrari," my friend Don said.

This was the day I discovered there was an actual Count in the disc golf world, and he happened to live nearby.

Apparently the Count hosts a couple of tournaments a year on a private disc golf course designed around his home. There was only one rule to follow if you wanted to be invited.

The sign

You must have the right attitude.

Don said he would secure me an invite to the next one.

But did I have the right attitude? I wasn't sure. What did that mean? I have an old memory of a guy randomly asking me if the door was open. I happened to be standing in front of an open door, so I was confused and wondered why he had to ask. He could definitely see that the door behind me was open.

I said, "This door?"

He said, "No, dude. Is the door open?"

"The door behind me is open," I said.

He impatiently replied, "No, man. Is the DOOR open?"

I stared at him for a second and then as if he gave up he said, "Do you want some cocaine?"

"Whoa... um, yeah... I mean no. No the door isn't open," I said.

So what was this "attitude" Don was talking about? What if it was code? I've only known Don for a couple years. Maybe he's in to some weird shit. Maybe he was about to get me invited to some nudist commune or something. I guess you would definitely have to have the right attitude to play disc golf in the buff. That's a lot of whipping, spinning and picking things up off the ground. I wouldn't have the right attitude for that sort of scene.

I was still curious and hoped what ever it was I was about to walk into wasn't too freaky. So, all I could do was wait for the next tournament to be scheduled.

And so it was.

  

Don walking through the horse stables.

At the crack of dawn on September 20th I drove into Everett to pick up my friend. Don had a bag of discs and a giant Crockpot full of beefy goodness. Things were starting off very normal. I was glad.

The beauties. "Don't bang a horse."

We made our way into Arlington and after a couple of turns we were headed up the private road leading to the Count's massive piece of property. The place looked amazing. There were white horses walking around, a pond surrounded with lush greenery and extremely interesting homemade disc golf baskets and tone poles scattered about.

Things were starting off very well and everyone I met, including the Count, still had their clothes on.

Don and I started walking the course and playing some of the holes to get familiar with the layout. While we were out more people had arrived.

We cut our practice off and walked back to tournament central. Twenty or so people were milling about and most of them were either making or opening their early morning beverage. There was whiskey, beer, cocktails and I believe bloody Marys being passed around. There was also a ton of food being organized. I had brought chips and salsa from a local Mexican food joint, but some people brought awesome clam chowder, delicious crab bisque and a ton of pastries. The list could go on.

Everyone seemed happy to be alive and everyone still had their clothes on.

Things were looking really good. I started to understand what was meant by having the right attitude.

The fire hazard.

Our format for the tournament was one round of singles and then a second round of doubles. For the doubles round the lowest scores were paired with the highest scores. I landed somewhere in the middle. A well-known local badass ended up setting a new course record with a -15.

The people I met were kind, positive and ready to have fun. It was a disc golf gathering many of us enjoy.

Just like any other sport, disc golf can bring the worst out of your competitive spirit. I've seen grown adults throw tantrums. I've seen people get so pissed off that they throw their entire bag into the air. I've seen people simply stop playing and slowly walk off the course.

I know I'm guilty. Although, I usually get upset and talk to myself when I'm alone. I'm very conscious of my attitude when there are other people around, because the last thing I want to do is ruin anyone else's vibe.

There's no room for tantrums at the GHEDI. That's what they meant by having the right attitude. It's a tournament, but you're not there to win. You're there to play and enjoy the company of others in an awesome setting. It's disc golf in its simplest form.

The day out with the Count was one I will remember for ever. I loved it. It gives me a perfect example to share when I try to explain why disc golf is so addicting.

And I'm so glad I didn't have to come home and tell my wife I was playing disc golf naked with a bunch of strangers.

Thanks, Count.

The Terror at Terrace Creek

The morning of the Terror at Terrace Creek tournament looked promising. The sky was menacing, but the ground was dry. My hope for somewhat dry tee pads was blown away almost immediately when gallons of water began belching from the clouds.

I was eating an apple, walking the quiet path into the woods toward basket 11 when it started to fall. 

Oh well, I thought. My plan was to attack and the pacific northwest rain wasn't going to stop me. I was equipped with a giant umbrella and comfortable clothes that kept me warm and dry. In my bag sat two Maw N Paw towels and I planned to use them quickly and efficiently throughout the rounds.

After stretching a bit I began putting. This is when all my past tournament experiences usually begin creeping into my mind. Scenes of me missing putts or hurling uncontrolled throws rush in. This time was different though. I felt fed up. 

I began attacking the basket.

Ching, ching, ching from 10 feet. Ching, ching, ching from 15 feet. Ching, ching, ching from 20 feet. 

My Legacy Clutches were dialed in. I wasn't surprised. I've been putting more than anything else for a while now. I've adopted a new thought process that I picked up through watching all the major tournament videos on YouTube.

If I can see it then I can make it. 

I used to think – well if I miss I don't want to miss and have a long putt back.

Fuck that.

Excuse my language.

That technique left me with short putts and weak attempts. I'm all in now. If I miss the bird then I just make the par. If I miss the par then I need to practice putting more.

This tournament was going to be different. I had more confidence than ever before. 

Rain? What rain?

When I found out my card was starting on hole three I wondered if the Universe just watched my putting routine and eavesdropped on my inner battle. It's as if the starry bastard wanted to see how serious I was and maybe try to call me on my bullshit.

For those of you that have played Terrace Creek in Mountlake Terrace, WA. you know hole three is a relatively easy hole as long as you shoot the gap. For those of you that are not familiar with this course I'll tell you hole three is a short adventure over a ravine. There's a tiny tee pad with a steep drop off and there is a jail of trees to miss in order to make it across. A lot of people hit one of two trees right in front of the tee. Those trees have been hit so much that there are now 2x4s attached to reinforce and protect them from further damage. The photo above is taken from a bit of an extreme angle to show the basket position straight ahead, but that's basically what you're looking at.

Hole three is a birdie hole, but it's also easily a bogey hole.

So be it. I was ready to throw. What ever happens, happens. 

I made it.

It wasn't pretty, but I was across and looking at a long putt for bird. I ended up getting the par, but that was OK. I passed the first test.

Going hole by hole isn't my intention here, but the next hole needs to be written about.

Feeling good about my previous par, I walked on to tee four and mentally designed my drive. This hole is a blind, lazy hyzer shot. You have to bend your shot to the left around a hill and in front of a mando tree. You don't want to cut it too short, because you'll be stuck on the side of the hill, which is plagued with a serious case of fern-itis.

My drive looked great. My card mates agreed. They all had great ones too. We all walked out and everyone found their disc except me. It was hiding somewhere. We all searched. It didn't make any sense. I had hit that line many times before and I usually know where about my disc could land. The photo below shows the different landing areas around the bend. The basket is just behind the third tree on the right.

It was no where. I finally called the three minutes on myself and rushed back to the tee to re-throw. I was livid. I quickly drove and watched my disc hold a hyzer line right past the mando tree.

Damn.

I took a six.

The rest of the round was a battle to keep a dry grip and a positive attitude. I hit a few birds here and there. One of them was extremely memorable, because it was on a hole I had never birdied before.

Hole 11 is a 357 foot hallway shot. I've always been just a bit off on the drive and that small inaccuracy has consistently landed me in the shite off to one side.

This time around I had a Legacy Rival in my bag, but the problem was I had never tried it on the hole before. It's a new disc for me that I purchased at Discovering the World in California on my recent trip down there.

I used it a lot on the El Dorado course in Long Beach and from what I learned it seemed like it would be the better choice than the beat-in Star Teebird I usually throw on this hole.

One of my card mates saw it in my hand and told me he had only used a Cannon before from the Legacy lineup.

I explained to him that it had been flying for me like a beat Teebird.

I stepped up, visualized my throw and hit such a perfect line that it kind of freaked me out. It just stayed straight. Even at the end. I walked back to get my bag and my card mate said he was going to have to check one out.

I was still on the narrow path when I walked up to putt. I didn't have an easy, short putt, but it was within my range. I found my link, gave it a dead stare and didn't look away until I saw my Clutch hit the chains and fall in.

I was in shock, but I ran up and retrieved my disc like it was usual business.

That round was tough and I was sitting six over at the end, but I wasn't too bummed out because a lot of good things happened. I couldn't wait to start that second round.

Toward the end of the second round I was soaked and chilled to the bone, but I was throwing strong. My card had started on hole three again, but I got through with no problems. Missed the putt, but moved on with a par.

On hole 18 I was sitting at -1. I had three more holes to go. All of them are easy pars and two of them I have birdied before. Unfortunately I let that near 980 rated round slip away and ended the round with a 56. Two over wasn't too bad considering it ended up being my highest rated round (951) in a tournament ever.

I placed sixth over all in advanced and earned the last spot for scrip. I earned enough for a new disc and that made me happy.

My pick for the evening was a Legacy Icon Patriot since I haden't thrown one yet and a mini for the Dish.

After all my drama I'm happy with the way things turned out. I knew I could have placed higher and knowing that inspires me to work harder. My goal is to raise my rating to where I believe it should be and I am on my way to accomplishing that.

I'll never know where my Pro Destroyer landed on hole four that first round. I even went back the next day to look more thoroughly. It simply vanished. Maybe the Universe took it. That's OK though – it makes for a great story.

Battle Benny Two

For one brief moment I broke free from the familiar mind voodoo I experience during tournament play. Then things went back to normal, but with that little bit of confidence came enough of a lesson that I may be making a run out of the intermediate field and in to the advanced this year. Hopefully.

Battle Benny II was a fundraiser event for the annual Battle of Seattle tournament held in June. This tournament was the first event played on the newly designed SeaTac DGC. The course is now home to 27 awesome fairways and quite a few brand new Mach X baskets.

I was blown away when I saw the result from all the hard work put in. This place is even better now in my opinion. SeaTac was already a beast of a course, but now it's a beast with a baby.

The event layout was simple – play one round of 27 and call it a day. I was happy when I realized my card was starting on one, but I had no idea that nearly five hours later I would be even happier putting out on 27 to end the brutality.

My confidence level remained at an all-time high up until hole 16. I was playing safe, making pars and taking birdies when I had the chance. Everything was working just like casual play, but I'm not sure if it was the rain, the cold, my hungry stomach or the speed of play that got to me. Maybe it was a little bit of everything.

I was sitting at even with 11 more holes left when I placed a drive in to the shit of 16. That's where I boarded the bogie train and rode it to the end of the line. I couldn't stop the horror.

My world came crashing down around me. Nothing was making sense anymore. I had no grip, no aim. My discs were falling like the heavy droplets of water responsible for the chill in my bones.

Finally the massacre of a good round was over. We were one of the last groups to arrive back at tournament central. People were already leaving. Our card tallied up the scores and handed them over.

I ended up with a 101. Par for the course was set at 86. First place in my division was a 93.

It wasn't my time to win, but I feel my time is coming. This year perhaps. The lesson I took away from this tournament was something I had heard, or read before. If you want to play well in tournaments then you have to play tournaments.

We'll see.

Thanks for reading.

AFT Update

The Treejectory AM Classic tournament was a damn good time and I'm glad I participated. I got to see a lot of people I haven't seen in a while, I got to meet new people, I got to throw a Seattle Rainmakers ultimate disc made by Innova and I got to play two tough rounds of golf in sporadic windy conditions.

I'm refusing to litter this post with excuses about my poor performance, so I won't go into detail about what could have, or should have, been. I just knew it was going to be business as usual when I watched my first drive of the day sail in a direction I haven't seen in a long time.

I thought to myself, "Here we go," while standing one over par on the second tee with muddy shoes. The fact is my first round was comical. I shot a 66 and sat in last place after the round.

While eating pizza during the break I thought about the comment left by Ryan in the last post. He gave me some great advice.

1. don't put too much pressure on yourself, disc golf is meant to be fun, keep that mindset...
2. don't look at those problem holes as problems, it will only bring in the negativity...look at those holes as a challenge to better your game, in a positive mindset...ahead of time, visualize your perfect drive...
3. whatever time you devote to practice putting, devote the same amount of time 'meditating' on putting...practice in your head making every, single 25-footer, watching in your mind's eye as they crash the chains every time...trust me, this works!
4. block out all the other players, if you can. play your game. don't let another player get in your head.

By the time the second round started I was in a positive mood and ready to have fun. I ended up shooting a 59. Even though it wasn't one of my better scores on that course I was extremely happy to shoot seven strokes better than my first round.

I still ended up near the bottom after all the scores came in, but I didn't care too much. If I would have played my normal division I would have tied for second place, which would have been fun because I could have participated in a playoff for the trophy. 

Going in to this I wanted to learn something. I found out that consistency is the only thing keeping me from competing in the Advanced division. I have the distance. I just hit more trees. I can scramble, but I can't sink as many putts. I'll be working on my putting a lot more in the coming months. I've been so obsessed with gaining distance I've weakened other shots in my bag.

So, next time I'll be back among the Intermediate folks, but I'll make sure it's not for too much longer.

In the last post I mentioned four problem areas I was worried about. Here they are:

1. The OB on fairway one.

2. The trees off the tee on three.

3. The low ceiling and narrow hallway tee shot on 11.

4. The possibility of a lost disc on fairway 18.

Here's what happened.

I kept my Surge SS in bounds on one during the first round, but hurled it OB during the second round. There was a slight tail wind and I didn't think about what the wind would do to my shot.

On the first round I smacked an early tree off of the tee on three. I made it through during the second round

I had low straight drives both rounds on 11, but I missed the putt to card a 4 in the first round.

I was relieved to hear there would be spotters on the fairway of 18. I threw a strong drive and landed close to the fairway during the first round, but sailed off into some trees during the second. Never lost a disc though.

Just in case you're interested here's a link to the scores:

Scores.

Another Freaking Tournament (AFT)

I registered into another freaking tournament.

The first Treejectory Classic tournament at the Terrace Creek disc golf course is slated for April 27. I'm excited and honestly a bit frightened, but I've been practicing as much as I can on the course and I feel the fear slowly subsiding.

Terrace Creek is technically my home course and I've played really well there in the past, so I decided to really torture myself and sign up in the Advanced division.

I've thrown among intermediates in all the tournaments I've played. I never learn anything. If I'm not going to place near the top of the pack then I better look for a way to get a lesson. Signing up as an advanced player should help with that.

I haven't posted about my distance progress lately, because I'm tired of guessing and Google mapping lengths of throws. I'm saving up for a laser range finder and when I acquire that I will post accurate distances.

I will say I know progress has been made.

Although with this progress a small issue with consistency and accuracy has plagued my regular play. I've discovered "timing" when driving off the tee and when my timing is off I can create advanced personal fairways if you know what I mean. Trees lose bark and squirrels scream for mommy.

This random inconsistency will have the back of my mind pulsing on every tee pad, but there are a few course features I will be worried about too. Here's a list:

1. The OB on fairway one.

2. The trees off the tee on three.

3. The low ceiling and narrow hallway tee shot on 11.

4. The possibility of a lost disc on fairway 18.

The tee shot off of tee one gives me nightmares. The distance to the basket is only 300 ft. or so, but it's slightly uphill the whole way. I've been told it plays more like 350' to 375'. That's not the problem though.

The problem is the busy road that hugs the left side of the fairway and the trees to the right near the basket. This situation creates a small gap to pierce in order to land in the circle.   

I'm a right hand/back hand thrower with a forearm only good for escaping tight spaces. I only have two options right now. I can either hyzer flip something without hitting the trees to the right, or fail to hyzer flip something and watch the disc hit a car.

Since starting this blog I've created a mental list of additional goals and one of them is to card a birdie on this dang hole.

Now tee three is like throwing a hail Mary. From the pad a disc golfer has to clear a ravine to reach the basket. It's not that far of a throw, but the trees in front of the tee pad mock you. They call you names. They stand only feet apart and dare you to clear the gap. If you fail you turn an easy bird into an exhausting bogey... or worse.

Throwing off of tee 11 hasn't been too much of a problem for me lately, but it's still a hole I think about. Your drive doesn't have a lot of room to play in the air.

Lastly, during casual rounds I've been in groups that took well over three minutes to search for a disc off the fairway of 18. Some of the time it's been my disc that we're looking for. This hole is a 500 ft. hallway shot with decent elevation. I've read roughly 70ft. Right handed throwers tend to fade out early and dive into a thicket of trees and blackberry bushes. If you turn one over to the right too much you lose site of the disc and end up in a jail of head-high reeds of some sort. Also, that area is flooded this time of year.

This tourney should be interesting. I have a few more days of practice coming up, so hopefully I can get myself ready for competitive play, or at the very least an enjoyable and informative couple of rounds of disc golf.

Wish me luck.