I met a guy who invited me to play disc golf with some buddies. I thought to myself, well, it’s fifty degrees with a twenty mph wind, with gusts to forty. Sure, why not? All the while I was getting ready I was thinking, “What am I getting myself into?” I got my knit hat, my gloves (I figured mittens would make it hard to grip the disc), my scarf and parka together and drove to the course.
I arrived at the course and noticed the other guys had canvass bags. I wondered if we were having a picnic. Nope, they carry ALL their discs in those bags. My friend handed me two. I was confused and thinking, If they need that many, why do I only get two? I can’t go “real” golfing with just two clubs. These guys are talking about the different discs they have and have used. Man, they are talking about the Destroyer, the Boss, Valkyrie, Sidewinder, the Vulcan and the Nuke. The NUKE? Man these guys take this game way too seriously. They don’t have any named the Sylvester or the Tweety? My friend asked me which one I wanted to use. I said, “I’ll take the orange one. “That’s a good choice, you’ll get a lot of distance and it’s good on windy days. I told him, “Oh yeah, that‘s what I was thinking.” What was I really thinking? I’ll take the orange one. It’s my favorite color.
Okay, so they said we are playing eighteen today. Would that be holes? No, that would be baskets. Baskets? Let me get this straight. We play eighteen baskets? Just doesn’t sound right. Maybe that’s what all those athletes are making in the underwater basket weaving class. So I watch as the other guys step on to the “box”. Wow! What form. I give my new friend Andrew a 9.5. His form was great and his disc flew about a mile. How am I supposed to follow that. So I step up. Are they watching? I let her rip. Literally. I think I ripped a muscle in my back. I amazed myself. My disc must have flown a good ten feet before it landed with a thud in the mud in a thicket of thorns. Oh yeah, this is going to be a fun game.
Well, it only took me ten throws to get to the hole, uh I mean basket. My next throw took advantage of the wind, no doubt. That thing must have gone two hundred feet…in the wrong direction. The wind took it far left and across the highway. As I stood waiting for the cars to pass I could have sworn drivers and passengers all had a look of, “What an idiot.” That didn’t bother me though because I figured by the time they drove back the other direction I would be gone, so they wouldn’t have the joy of seeing me take seven throws to get the disc back across the highway.
I really enjoyed my day, really. In three hours of playing disc golf on a course in the middle of the woods I must have hit every tree, landed in every pond, my shoes were covered in mud, I missed lunch and had to pee like crazy. All that and my fourteen year old son, who was walking along with me, said, “Dad if this was a movie about a ravenous bear, you would be the first one eaten.” I’ve lived in the city far too long. All the “holes” were par three so that’s fifty four for eighteen. I was only sixty four over. Not bad for a first time if I have to say so myself and believe me I was the only one to say so. Some say I am very frugal. I like to get my money’s worth. I sure did today. Okay, so it was free, but at least I got more throws for the free than the other guys.
Disc golf is a funny game. At least that is what I gathered from the guys I was playing with. Every time I threw I looked up and saw them laughing. Did you know there is a PDGA? That’s right. A Pro Disc Golf Association. I know. I couldn’t stop laughing either. How about that? It is a funny game.