Casual golf’s competitive summit: an epic and friendly grudge match

I rarely dedicate an entire post to a first-person account of a disc golf round, but on rare occasions I feel it makes for good enough reading and I break my own rule.

This round is at DeLaveaga in Santa Cruz, California, and I’ve included links to hole descriptions so you can better visualize the situations.

jackFirst, let me give you some background. My friend Alan and I have played together since the late 1990s. We used to gamble small wagers. In the early days, he was an established — he won the Faultline Classic/California State Championship in DeLaveaga in 1994 — and I was playing Am1 and still learning.

More often than not, he hustled me. But I paid attention and, eventually, my improving game and injuries on his part swung things in my favor. I’ve had the advantage for the past eight years or so, but Alan has really cranked his game up in the past few months. We’re pretty even now. I’m sure most readers would agree that it’s more fun if your more evenly matches with a playing partner.

We attempt to play when the courses aren’t too crowded. This time, however, a 2 p.m. Saturday round was the only time that worked for both of us. We’re not used to being on the course at such a peak time and it was like a party spread out over 80 acres. For us, that’s not a goof thing on a golf course.

Discs were flying everywhere and voices continually cascaded up and down the ravines. It was wild. Crazy wild. The wind was crazy, too. It was pretty gusty, but the challenging aspect was that it kept changing direction. You’d factor the headwind into a certain shot and then it would change to a tailwind.

Continue reading

Advertisement

Saying goodbye to the holes that shaped my anhyzer

I have a decent backhand these days, but it wasn’t always so.

In the past, I used to throw nothing but forehand shots. Over the years, this old shoulder of mine has had it with forehand and overhand shots. Heck, even just watching someone blast an overhand shot into the stratosphere can make me wince.

Nearly two years ago, I came to the conclusion that not having a backhand throw was not only holding my game back, it was threatening to cause permanent injury. Over that time, I managed to hobble together a decent backhand, which netted more distance and less discomfort, but there was a hefty void with the lack of a forehand shot.

That’s why I set out to develop a consistent anhyzer shot at the start of the summer. Well, that and the fact that I was constantly reminded of my deficiencies by holes No. 8 and No. 9 at my local course.

The problem with these holes is they have mandatory doglegs to the right.

This presented few obstacles for a younger, forehand-throwing André, who could bend it right around those doglegs with a quick flick. OK, maybe not every time. Still, it was with much more frequency than an older, backhand-throwing André has been able to muster. But I digress.

Continue reading