Aging With The Game

Aging is a hell of a thing.

I celebrated 38 years on November 3rd, and although I whole heartedly don't believe 38 is old, I still can't get away from the feeling that the number doesn't reflect what I feel on the inside. That's what everybody says though, right?

My wish for the day consisted of my family and I going out to throw for a bit before the heavy clouds tired and lost the ability to hold back the water.

We stopped by a local disc golf vendor before our brief session on the Terrace Creek course. I picked up a new Legacy Clutch. I've been curious about the Gravity blend of plastic, so that's what I chose.

As we practiced, I got to thinking about how I'm only two years away from being eligible to play in the Masters division.

What does that mean? Only that I'm almost 40.

If this was a time before the 2002 PDGA rule book change then I could have been playing in the Masters division ever since my 35th birthday.

I believe all divisions like Masters, Grand Masters, Senior Grandmasters, Legendary Senseis and, finally, Walkers are referred to as "age protected." I smile thinking about Masters being age protected, because I know there are a lot of 40-something-year olds that don't need protection.

Playing Masters will in no way be a step down in competition. In fact, I may just stay in Advanced unless I feel like I can compete when that time comes.

As our sport grows in popularity we hear talk about athleticism raising the bar of competition. I know I'm working to become more fit and healthy as I near my forties. I can just imagine what others are doing. In fact, I don't have to imagine. We can all see what others are doing. A simple glimpse into the world of #discgolf on Instagram or Twitter and we can find thousands of posts by people equally obsessed with bettering themselves to better their play.

John E. McCray showed the world this year that just because you're in your forties doesn't mean you can't compete with the best of them. Also, I heard Scott Stokley will be back on tour next year. Will he prove that forty-something-year olds can't be counted out of the Open division on a national stage as well?

I believe the only difference between a 20-year-old and a fit 40-year-old on the disc golf course is time available to practice.

Shoot, it's not all about availability even. It's really about desire. How much time do we want to practice as we get older? So many more things become important as we age, especially if we have a family.

I can't compete every weekend. You know why?

I have to take my daughter camping, or to the beach. My wife and I like to travel, so which do you think I'll pick between a local C tier and a flight to Long Beach, Ca.? Or Venice, Italy?

What will happen with Avery Jenkins when his child is born? You think he'll keep touring the world all year long?

Aging with disc golf, man, it's a trip. Disc golf will be something that will always play an important part in my life, but it will never be more important than a lot of other things. However, it will always be fun to watch the sport and the players grow.

Can you imagine what Nikko Locastro or Paul McBeth will be like when they're 40? I hope I'm around to see those days.

I'll keep practicing and bettering myself mentally and physically. I'll keep competing when I can and I'll enter my forties with a ton of enthusiasm. Hopefully I'll be able to hold my own against the "old dudes" when I get there.

Now, what will I be saying when I'm two years away from 50?

Hmm...

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.

Hello ELDO: The Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda Round

My three-year-old daughter usually freaks out around mannequins. My wife and I were wondering how she would react around giant Disney characters silently walking around. It was a Monday when we decided to test it out. We arrived at a hotel near Disneyland early in the morning to have breakfast with some of the characters.

We walked in. Mickey was hanging out with kids while their parents were snapping photo after photo.

I looked down at Olive. Was she panicking? 

Where did she go?

She had bolted toward Mickey. 

The rest of the morning she was in gee gee land hanging out with Daisy, Minnie, Mickey, Stitch and Pluto.

They seemed to love her enthusiasm.

After exposing her to a glimpse of a future Disneyland trip we headed out, dropped Grandma and Olive off at Grandma's and then Dish and I headed out to Eldo.

Our friends, Gabe and Tabetha, were already two rounds in when we arrived. We also met Ryan and Brian there. They were all ready to throw, so Dish and I warmed up a bit, stretched a leg or two and tee'd off.

The round started with a little episode of When Animals Attack.

While I was setting up for my second shot I noticed Ryan get startled and jump. The group walked over to see about the commotion. Apparently Ryan was getting chomped on by a praying mantis. 

As we walked over to tee two Gabe did a similar dance and discovered another mantis crawling up his leg.

After a good laugh and viewing session we continued on. 

Everything was working for me. I kept hitting my lines off the tee and had a great run of birdies. This is what my score looked like going into hole 14.

Hole 1: Par                     

Hole 2: Birdie                

Hole 3: Birdie                

Hole 4: Par                    

Hole 5: Birdie

Hole 6: Birdie

Hole 7: Par

Hole 8: Par

Hole 9: Par

Hole 10: Birdie

Hole 11: Birdie

Hole 12: Birdie

Hole 13: Par

I was sitting at -7 as we walked to tee 14. That's when Gabe, Tab and Ryan had to take off. We said our goodbyes and then Brian, Dish and I continued on.

I knew I had a chance to beat my record of -9, so I was excited to throw.

I hit an early tree. I took a four. I immediately started blaming Gabe, Tab and Ryan for leaving. Everything was going so well when they were around.

The rest of the round was a disaster.

Hole 14: Bogie

Hole 15: Par

Hole 16: Double Bogie

Hole 17: Double Bogie

Hole 18: Par

I finished the round with a 52. Par is 54. 

I shoulda shot better. I coulda shot better. I woulda shot better.

That round is going to haunt me for a bit. 

Hello ELDO

El Dorado DGC in Long Beach, Ca. became my sanctuary when I started throwing discs again after a 12-year break. My home course in 1996 was Huntington Beach, but I played Eldo once.

I recall hating it. Too many trees.

That feeling was still there in 2008 when I picked up my old discs and started throwing again, but the stale hatred quickly evolved into a love for the course and an obsession for the game.

My first recorded round at Eldo was a +14.

I quickly developed a major desire to beat up on this course, so I started to practice by myself. After a couple of years I recorded my best round of -9.

One of the greatest attributes of Eldo is that solo rounds don't last long. I met a solid group of people and we began meeting regularly in the mornings to play.

In August of 2011 my wife and I moved to Washington with our three-month-old daughter. Still playing regularly, I immediately started exploring the disc golf scene up here.

I've fallen in love with a lot this state has to offer, but whenever the time comes to travel back down to California I get crazy excited. Part of that excitement comes from the fact that I will be walking out on to that El Dorado course and throwing with my old friends.

That chance came again recently. We shot through the sky on JetBlue and landed in Long Beach on Wednesday, Oct. 15. We left 50 something degree temperatures and landed in an assault of sun beams and mellow, hot air.

I couldn't see shit. My eye lids collapsed on to my melting cheeks. I lost all elasticity in my skin and slowly melted in to a large brown puddle.

Then my brother-in-law pulled up along side the curb and yanked me back to reality.

Early Thursday morning I waited in my usual spot for my friend Bill to pick me up. I usually send him a text informing him that I'm under the golden dolphin drinking coffee.

To the early morning risers driving past I'm just a random stranger stretching with a bag full of Frisbees close by. To Bill, I'm just the northerner ready to throw.

We arrived at Eldo around 8am and our friend Dennis was already in full golf mode. He was putting and driving getting ready for the showdown with the northerner. We said our hellos and talked about the news in our lives.

Then the moment I'd been waiting for arrived. It was time to tee off. I couldn't wait to show these gentlemen my progress from many hours of practice in the north west. 

I believe I was first on the tee. I lined up the shot and... 

BOOM!!!

I hit one of the closest trees to the tee pad. Everyone had a good laugh and we moved on through the course and had a fun, peaceful round. Although I didn't play as well as I wanted I was happy to be back and couldn't wait for each one of the days we gathered while I was in town.

Video: Robin HIll DGC

A Great Four at Terrace

Terrace Creek DGC in Mountlake Terrace, WA. has seen many recent changes. Holes 14, 16 and 17 were redesigned after some major construction by the city and more recently the mando tree on hole eight was cut down because the damn thing was dead. 

Adding to the mix up is a new tee pad on hole four. I love that the old, slippery pad is history.

That slick slab of rocks and concrete had my number. I had a feeling one day it would take me down. I'm extremely happy with its replacement. 

Thank you, Terrace locals!