First Tee

First Tee

     The entry fee has been paid. You arrived early, as you always do. The stretches and practice putts are already completed. You feel tightness in your back again. This always happens at tournaments when you get started earlier than usual. After shaking hands with everyone on the card, you dive into your own thoughts and block the idle chatter around you. It's time to focus. You look down at your shoes, glad you went with the waterproof ones to fight the morning dew. It's time for the checklist. You made sure to pack extra towels, and you pull one out and fasten it to the outside of your bag. You dry your throwing hand, and then reach for your rosin bag. You look up at the basket in the distance, trying to decide if you want to play safe, or attack the first hole. Slow and easy to start, you decide.

     The tournament director has put your card on hole three to start. The worst hole on the course. There are many options to attacking this hole, and none of them are very dependable. You decide on a stable putter, and wait. You watch your fellow competitors in their preparations. Paul is messing with his Apple Watch. Jeff is digging in his bag for something. Don is cleaning the bottom of his shoes on the tee, prepping to go first. He has a mid range in his hand; probably a Roc. Whenever someone grabs a different mold of disc than you, it makes you second guess your decision. You take a moment to doubt yourself, as this hole makes you do so every time. Don starts his throw. Smooth release, flat out of the hand. The disc flies true, two thirds of the way down the fairway, then hits a tree and comes to a rest on the left side of the fairway on a side hill. You give a halfhearted "That'll play," as you are still focused on what you have to do. 

     Jeff is next, and you decide early that you're going to try not to pay much attention to his shot, as he preps an overhead throw that you can't accomplish yourself. Every time you try to attempt this shot, your elbow catches fire and you regret you even tried. Jeff's shot flies gracefully and powerfully through and around the trees, landing upside down near the circle of the green, resting in front of the cut logs that have yet to be moved from a previous tree cutting work day. Good shot.

     You're next. A slight anxiety comes across you, but you hide it well. You're playing in the Advanced division, but you don't truly think you are ready yet to compete at this level. Your friends are more confident in you than you are of yourself. They encouraged you to move up to Advanced, so you did. Now you stand on the first tee, unsure of the shot you are about to throw. You need to wipe your hand dry again. More rosin. Deep breath. Just throw it like you see it in your head. You wonder if your stiff back will affect your form. You hope the stretching you did before you walked to the third hole was good enough. 

     You take your first step. Your eyes lock in on your drive line. Your hands are strong, yet your grip is relaxed. You turn your body on the second step, instinctively moving your hips and shoulders simultaneously, just like you've practiced. You pull back. All the anxiety you were feeling is now gone. This is your bliss. You turn your head to pull the disc as far back as it is supposed to go, taking your eyes off the line momentarily. Routine. As you launch, your hips torque and you pull from your right elbow. As you release, you exhale a deep breath. This is something people have commented that only you do, and it seems to work for you. The disc comes out of your hand clean, and you follow through effortlessly. Flying just right of the middle tree, your putter sails down the right side of the fairway. "Nice," you hear from behind you. It's a thing of beauty watching the disc navigate the trees, flying exactly on the line you put it on. Two hundred feet. Two fifty. Still looking good. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a tree leaps from obscurity to directly in the path of your drive. Cracking the right side of the tree, your disc changes trajectory, and heads right. It still has plenty of speed and height on it. This adventure isn't yet finished. Now the disc is fluttering in the air, and you lose sight of it as it continues right around the hill at the edge of the fairway. Don says, "That's probably still good." I hope so.

     After Paul throws his Nova putter down the left side of the fairway, landing short as he is disappointed with his low release, everyone loads up and heads down the hill. You try to get out of your head that your throw was unlucky. You threw it exactly like you wanted to. You find your disc in the woods on the backside of three's hill on the right. As you approach it, you look towards the basket, trying to find a line. It would seem you don't have a good one, and birdie quickly leaves your mind. It's all about saving par now. You set your bag down next to your disc, and go through the options in your head, as Paul tosses his up shot inside the circle. Should I sidearm up the left, and let it fade towards the basket? Should I putt, knowing there's no real good line to make the shot? Anxiety comes back. You visualize the pros and cons of both shots, and go through your "What's the worst that can happen?" routine. There are more trees on the putt line, so you decide to go with the sidearm. Don lays up underneath the basket. Solid. You're next. 

     This shot is a confident one for you, even though you don't consider yourself very good at sidearm shots. You've been practicing this specific shot, though. All you have to do is get the release angle right, which you have to think about considering you're on a downhill. You line up your A2, careful to get your fingers in the right spot on the disc. The sidearm up shot is almost no body movement compared to your backhand drive. It's a slight pivot of your shoulders, but mostly it's in the wrist. A little cock back, and fire. It wobbles a bit coming out of your hand, but it's true. Three fourths of the way there, it's still going left, but you have confidence in the disc. Sure enough, as it loses speed in the air, the disc reacts and yanks right, towards your target. Landing on its side and taking a bit of a hit from the ground, it turns up on its side and starts to roll away. "Stop!" you yell, even though you know screaming at the disc would not change the outcome. After rolling fifteen feet down the hill, it comes to rest. Disappointing, but still plenty doable. You pick up your mini, which is used to mark your shot, and put your driving putter back in the bag. You know Jeff will be putting any time now, so you pause, not even looking at the basket. As your back is turned, Jeff launches his putt, which you've never been able to figure out how he comfortably throws from so low to the ground, straight into the chains for a birdie. Don and Paul react accordingly with "good putt" and "nice two." Paul manages to save par from about twenty feet, and it's your turn again. Once again you gain a bit of stress knowing your card mates hit their putts so effortlessly, and you know it's due to the fact that you don't think you're as good as them. Shaking all thoughts from your head, you step up.

     All you have to do is aim a few links on the basket higher than normal due to it being uphill. You feel sweat building up in your palms, which may affect your shot, but your bag is way over behind Jeff, and you are too lazy to take the extra time to dry them. Besides, everyone is waiting on you, right? Just do the thing. You blink a few extra times, due to your contacts drying out. It's hard to see sometimes when you're outside and focusing in on things for too long. You give yourself a few extra seconds for the dread to creep in, and then pass as you shake your head. You lean your body back a little, to give yourself a little extra momentum for the putt, and then you spin the putter out of your hands. 

     Anyone who plays a sport where you have to have a specific feel for a shot, throw, or catch knows the feeling of doing exactly what you're supposed to. The feeling comes as instantly as during the follow-through of said action. That's what happens to you. As the disc is a half second out of your hands, you know it's going in. You did everything you needed to make the shot. You watch the disc hit center chains, perfectly halfway between the top band and cage of the basket. Everyone expected you to make the shot, so no one gives any congratulations, but for you, it's the reinforcement you need from time to time. I deserve to be here. I can hang with these guys. 

     By the second hole, you've had an entire mental workout, and there's thirty five holes left. Sometimes you wonder if you're overthinking things a bit too much. I love this game.