| I
was not born with what you might call athletic ability,
unless you consider bocce ball and badminton serious
athletic endeavors. Throughout the years I have
had many self-appointed teachers in many sports.
These people begin enthusiastically enough, encouraging
me to swing like this, stand like that, zig here,
zag there, but in the end they wind up frustrated
and baffled at my complete lack of spatial awareness
and peripheral vision. “See what you’re
doing now? Yeah… Do the opposite of that.” |
| So
when Sean and Bonnie first attempted to get me to
try disc golf, I was understandably reluctant. A
couple beers, and a long midnight drive later, I
found myself standing on a balcony under a full
moon, hucking glowing discs off into the grounds
of McMenamins Grand Lodge. |
| “So…
how do I do this?” I ask Sean, feeling the
impending embarrassment I associate with any new
sport. |
| “Just
chuck it. You’ve thrown a Frisbee right? Just
throw it like that.” Sean encourages. |
| I
hurl my disc hesitantly off the balcony, and watch
it veer violently to the left, towards the trees. |
| “Oops.” |
| “That’s
ok. Here, try again.” |
| Sean
hands me a disc that is glowing neon, and I wind
up and let it go, a little straighter this time.
Bonnie and Sean are throwing glowing discs now too,
and as they sail out off of the balcony they must
look like little flying saucers to the unsuspecting
people soaking in the hot tub below. Although the
pool is below and behind us, I suspect I could accidentally
send a disc into one of the bather’s heads,
my lack of agility so complete that it often defies
the basic laws of physics. |
| I
somehow manage to at least send all of my discs
in a forward, rather than backward direction, which
makes this a very successful first venture for me.
When we run out of things to throw, we head down
the stairs and onto the course, stopping for a drink
and running into a friend of Sean’s, who tells
us her boyfriend just had his first Ace the other
day. |
| “It
was kind of sad, because he was there by himself,”
she tells us of her boyfriend’s first hole-in-one,
“but these four other disc-golfers saw and
ran over to sign his disc for him.” |
| Sean
turns and explains that when a disc golfer gets
a hole-in-one, everyone there signs the disc as
witnesses, and then the player retires that disc. |
| After
chugging down several glasses of water, we head
out to the nearest hole to take some video of the
glowing discs, and so Bonnie and I can get some
practice. The grounds are still hard to see, even
though the full moon looms large above us. Bonnie
and I start throwing, discovering we’re much
better sidearm throwers. Sean acts really impressed
with our technique (he’s a dad, that’s
what they do), and I almost believe him, imagining
Bonnie and I taking over the disc golf circuit and
our apartment so full of retired discs we’ll
have to relocate to a bigger place just to accommodate
them. But of course, we’ve only hit the disc
catcher a couple times from close distances, so
we may need a little more practice before we sign
any sponsorship deals, or anything like that. |
| I’m
in mid-fling when a spotlight blinds us, and a voice
bellows from the blind spot behind it, “Who’s
there?” |
| We
all instinctively put our hands to our eyes and
squint in the direction of the voice and the light
aimed at us. |
| “Hello?”
Sean shouts back. |
| The
light moves towards us, bobbing slightly, still
not revealing the person who must be holding it.
When it finally lowers, we are confronted by a security
officer. |
| “What
are you doin’ out here?” |
| “We’re
just throwin some discs, dude. Is that ok?”
Sean. |
| “Well
let me have a look at those… Oh, you’re
playing Frisbee. I see.” |
| “It’s
disc golf, actually.” |
| The
conversation continues, and somehow Sean unexpectedly
convinces the security guard to go on camera as
a “Disc Golf Officer.” He gives his
spiel, which makes little or no sense, but is pretty
hilarious, and when Sean lowers the camera, he asks,
“That’s it? What else do you wanna do?”
A star is born. In the next few minutes Sean convinces
him to handcuff himself to the disc catcher for
another shot, the rest of us turning down this tempting
opportunity. After the shot he is reluctant to let
us go, and insists on walking us to the car, telling
us about how the Grand Lodge is haunted, sometimes
veering off onto other subjects at random. |
| He
waves as we pull out of the parking lot, and I wonder
on the way home if there is any other sport where
you could have this kind of strange first experience,
and I can’t wait to get some more practice,
and see who’s out on the course when the next
full moon rolls around. |
by
Celena Carr |
