This 3D year has flown by, but the good years almost always pass more quickly than the bad ones. Having had a good season, I really didn't want this one to come to an end. Since the IBO World Championship came to a conclusion yesterday, I've had a little time to sit back and reflect on it. I'll share some thoughts with you about the weeks leading up to the tournament and my journey through it once it started. I hope you enjoy the ride.
The Week After the New England IBO Championship
After shooting a tough course at the the New England Championship, I knew I was ready. I came off a good finish at the last leg of the National Triple Crown and followed it up with another great ground on a brutal course. I was firing on all cylinders. I couldn't wait for the following week to compete at the NY State Series Championship.......... and that's when my archery world came crashing down around me.
In the middle of the week, I had a playoff game in my softball league. During the game, I fell onto my surgically repaired shoulder. Although the operations took place almost seven years ago, the surgeon warned me that falling on it could do me in for good. After all, I was lucky enough to be able to shoot a bow again after three different surgeons told me I would never shoot a bow after surgery.
Instant fear coursed through my veins when I hit the dirt. I knew I was in serious trouble. I could feel it in my arm. I decided to keep ice on it and pump the Advil down regularly. While it relieved the pain, the feeling inside the shoulder stayed the same, causing me to make an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon.
He couldn't get me in until the Monday of the week of the IBO World. I went to the NY State shoot with Jacob, George and Gary and walked the course with them. I judged as they shot, and I had really good numbers. It killed me not shooting my bow, but I couldn't draw it. I continued judging throughout the next week, and my numbers were really good. I was grooving the numbers every day. I was looking at my own targets and also did some ground judging. I also set a course for Jacob for the weekend before the world.
He came up on Saturday, so I decided to see if I could shoot a few arrows. I hadn't attempted to shoot an arrow in two weeks. As we walked through the course, I attempted to shoot some arrows. I couldn't hold the bow very well at all, and my shoulder popped, crackled and had a lot of pain in it on every shot. I shot 20 targets so I knew I would be able to shoot a 20 target range at the world and be okay. Afterward, I iced it and dealt with the pain. It wasn't the smartest thing I've done, but I love shooting my bow. Unless the doctor told me I couldn't shoot, I planned on shooting. Jacob pounded the course but was still battling some questionable issues with his equipment. It wasn't a good feeling. It's always very difficult to shoot when you aren't confident with your equipment.
Monday's Visit to the Orthopedic Surgeon
On Monday afternoon, I headed to the doctor's office. After having a bunch of X-rays and waiting in the room, I didn't know what to expect. When the doctor came in and ran some tests, I felt a little bit of relief go through me. I was told that I have some things going on in the shoulder joint, and I had also aggravated the area on my bicep tendon where it had been operated on. The doctor told me I couldn't hurt it more by shooting but recommended that I leave it alone to let it heal. I was told it would take 6-9 months to fully heal. I had severely strained the tendon in the area where it had been reattached to my upper arm. But.......I got the okay to shoot, just to shoot as little as possible.
I went to Dad's house after the Dr's visit and shot 10 targets. I did the same thing on Tuesday. I had to take a fair amount of weight off my back bar and an ounce off my front bar. Still, I couldn't hold the bow steady. It was not a goof feeling. In the process of shooting 10 marked yardage targets, I shot two fives because I couldn't hold the bow like normal. Although I left on a sour note, I was glad to know that I would be able to shoot at the World. My great year wouldn't end the way I wanted it to, but in the back of my mind, I have a lot of confidence and felt like I could overcome the bad luck. I have the ability to succeed through any sort of difficulty. I would have to rely on the mental attitude to get me through.
The Trip to the Shoot
I worked from 4:30am to 9:00 am on Wednesday. We got on the road as soon as I got out. After picking up Wade, we headed down I-88 before connecting to I-81. When we got near Harrisburg, Pa., we came to a stop on the highway. An accident claimed the lives of two people and seriously injured two others. Traffic was backed up for miles upon miles, putting us on a 3-hour delay. We ended up getting to Snowshoe around 11:30pm. The trip made me realize the life is fleeting, and we should take advantage of every second we have. We should pursue the things we love and keep the ones we love the closest to us. Live for yourself while living for others. I'm fortunate to be able to share all of these archery memories with my father. There's not one person I'd rather share them with.
Day 1: Game Day
My start time was 9:50. I went to the butts and shot four arrows at the 10-yard butt with my dad. We went from there to the practice range to shoot a few 3D targets. We shot 7-targets. I shot two 11s and five 8s. During the round, I added and subtracted weight trying to get my hold to somehow steady out. Without having shot in 3 weeks and having a lot of pain in my shoulder, I knew it was going to be rough. It's hard to have fun when you look back on a fantastic year and see it come crashing down in front of you.
When I got to the starting tent on top of the mountain, the wind was whipping around a little but not too drastically. I shared pleasantries with a lot of people I've shot with in the past and wished everyone luck. When my group got called, I felt calm and ready to go. As we walked to the first target, we became acquainted with each other and got ready for our round. Eric, from my home state of New York, said he Googled my name when he saw who he was shooting with. He said, "Holy shit, I knew I was in trouble when two pages of shit came up when I Googled your name. Mountain Main, holy cow, I'm shooting with Mountain Man from Outdoor Life. How do I stand a chance?"
We all laughed about it. Our first impressions of each other were good. I had a great group to shoot with, which is sometimes very difficult to find. I believe your group has a lot to do with our success -- or failure. I was also lucky enough to have Justin Krotine in my group again. After meeting him at the third leg last month, we seem to hit it off, and I shoot well with him in my group. He's one of those guys who is a calming influence to me and shows a lot of support. He is also very athletic and understands things on the same terms as me. We think in an athletic-type mind. It's kind of cool. I'm glad I was lucky enough to meet him last month and feel even luckier to have shot with him at the World. I also love the fact that he manages the staff for Rogue bowstrings and never pushes the product on anyone or trashes other players' products. He's positive in every aspect and is a great person to be around. I appreciate that. He knows that I've had a longstanding relationship with Eric Griggs of GAS bowstrings, and he respects that. He talks highly of all other string makers, too, which is a first-class act. I really respect the guy.
When I drew on the first target, I had the typical anxiousness you find when you start a tournament. I was certain my number was right, and when the shot broke, the arrow found its way into the center of the 11. I was off to a good start.
When we got to the third target, a snarling wolf set back in the woods, I knew I wouldn't be able to see it that well. When I drew the bow, I couldn't see it. I had to let down and start over. Eric and Chad were talking a little bit as they were right behind me while I was at full draw. Although I should't have let it distract me, I did. I ended up shooting an 8 on a target that I never should've shot an 8 on. I wasn't too happy about it. I politely told them not to talk while someone was at full draw, and they understood. I like shooting with people who understand the how's and why's behind the scenes. Justin and I were helping them learn, and they were helping us have a good time. We never had a problem with that the rest of the way because we addressed it in the beginning of the day. That's all it takes sometimes.
As I made my way down the mountain, my shot felt good. Amazingly, my hold wasn't too terribly bad, either. It still made me nervous having such little weight on my stabilizers, but for the time being, I had to do it to make things suitable for me to attempt to shoot well. When we started shooting a few shots in the wooded area between the ski tows, I lost my yardage. When I came upon a bedded buck, the target looked close but the ground made it look a long way away. Although I knew I was giving it too much, I left my sight where I set it and shot. As soon as the arrow hit a half inch out the top of the 10, I was pissed. I knew I had just given points away because I had gotten lazy and didn't do anything about it. I've always been guilty of that over the years. It seems to bite me every now and then........and this bite stung.
When I got to the eighth target, I saw a turkey. It was a long downhill shot that would have uneven footing. The yardage instantly stuck out to me, and I knew I was going to get it. I always gain points on turkeys, and I knew this one would be no different. I had shot Barry's turkey at this same yardage two times before I left for the shoot. I 10d it both times. I had it. Eric shot first, and his arrow landed squarely in the 11, giving me a great aiming reference. When I drew my bow, the pin settled onto his arrow, and I began pulling. In the middle of my execution a wind gust caught me and blew me to the right. Before it could correct itself, the arrow fired. It barely missed staying in the 8-ring and found itself on the outside looking in. It was out no more than a fingernail width once again. I couldn't control what had happened and knew I had to make the most of my next two shots. I ended up getting both of the last two targets. I was happy to sign the sheet with a 201. The five got me, but I still finished in the hunt. I would later learn the I was tied for third.
Day Two: Moving Day
I never look at the scores after the first day. After all, the first day doesn’t mean a damn thing. I knew that I hadn’t lost the tournament on the first day and figured I was definitely near or at the top from everything I had heard. With the cancellation on the second day, word made its way back to be about my placement. Having been in the same place many times, it wasn’t difficult to get a good night’s rest. I can remember a few times early in my career when the rest didn’t come easy after that first day of shooting. Now, I just try to follow my process and stay in the zone throughout the second day.
I shot three arrows at the practice butt, then headed to the defense range with Wade. We shot 10 targets and most of my arrows found their way into the 10-ring. My hold was worse than it had been on the first day. I did a lot of playing around with weights but never got it where I felt comfortable.
When I approached the first target of the second day, I was relieved to see that it was a medium buck, a target I have always excelled on. Everyone in the group in front of me hit it low, so I tried going to school on that. It’s always hard to do that when you don’t know the people or their shooting ability. Thinking I had a good number, I executed a good shot. I was surprised when the arrow landed in the bottom of the 10-ring. The shot was great, but the number was a tad short.
With the first target of the day out of the way, I felt relieved – until I walked down the hill and up a road to the next stake. When I looked up the hill, I saw a long wolverine on the side of the slope. Instantly, I knew it was one of those separator targets that you see at national events. It was placed there to separate the field. It was an uphill shot, with the target on a side hill… and it had some distance on it for the size of the target.
It was my turn to lead off. When the pin settled into the area below the white indicator mark that points to the top of the 10 on the wolverine, my shot broke. “Yup,” nailed it I thought. Stepping away and glassing it, the arrow was dead center in the 11-ring. A genuine feeling of relief and calmness found its way into my body.
As I sat on my chair waiting for the other shooters to shoot, I glanced down the hill and saw a caribou. I felt good about my start. Thankfully, when I got to the caribou and drew my bow, I was lucky to be the last shooter. I couldn’t see any part of the animal, but I could see two nocks and knew where they were located. I made the adjustment to the nocks and executed another good shot – 10.
Over the course of the weekend, besides battling the issues with my shoulder, I was constantly chasing my blood glucose levels. I think I was getting the spikes due to adrenaline, even though I didn’t feel overly nervous. I could see that my blood was going down, as my sensor had one down arrow appear, which is cause for concern. It means your blood level is rapidly dropping.
Within minutes, I was fighting to hold it off. I slugged down some Gatorade, but I knew it wouldn’t start working for 10 to 15 minutes. Unfortunately, it happened when I was on what I thought was one of the tougher shots, a long and uphill black panther. The number stuck out to me, but the long uphill shots would wreak havoc on me with my blood being so low. I didn’t let down much all weekend, but I had no choice on that target. I just couldn’t hold the pin remotely steady, and I really couldn’t identify the pin that well: my blood was hanging around 45 according to my sensor……..most people wouldn’t have been functioning at that level. Having had Type 1 diabetes for 45 years, I don’t recognize symptoms like many other people. Finally, I got the shot off, and it wasn’t good. I felt lucky to hit the target but unlucky that I was dealing with the situation. I got a five. I couldn’t complain about it. It’s just one of those things I face with this silent disease that nobody sees from the outside. I took it on the chin and moved forward. By the time I got to the next target, a short uphill impala, my blood had almost gotten back to 60. I was still shaky and felt good enough to get a 10, even though I really should have shot an 11 on the target. For as unsteady as the hold was, I accepted the result and moved on.
When I got to the next target, a long downhill gator, I felt decent again but battled a slight headache from the aftereffects of low blood sugar. I smoked the gator, making a perfect shot and watching the arrow land in the middle of the 11… back on track after saving the train from crashing off the rails due to something out of my control. Every day on the range, I face small obstacles that most others can’t understand. When I look back at my success over the years, I often wonder how I ever did it before I had a sensor to tell me exactly what my blood sugar level was at that point in time.
Continuing through the range, the wind began howling, which made it difficult to make accurate shots. Most of the shooting took place on the ski slopes outside of the woods. When I poked out of a piece of woods at the hallway point and saw a Big 10 buck down the hill, I felt relieved. It would be good to start the second half on a big target, and looking at it, I could easily ballpark the number.
Thinking the pin was in a perfect spot, I executed one of my best shots of the weekend. I couldn’t believe it when the arrow struck about ¼ of an inch below the 10-ring. I had perfect line, too. Standing there in amazement, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I would now have an uphill battle to hold my own and get out of the hole I was digging – four down for the day with nine left.
As the last nine targets progressed, my shots were breaking like I was in my backyard. I felt good. In my head, I felt like I could 11 every target I had left to shoot. After all, I have shot 9 up on a 10-target national course, so I knew I had the ability.
When I got to target 6, I could see that it was a downhill mt. lion, and the footing wasn’t going to be good. The wind was howling, and I knew it was going to be difficult to keep it in the 10-ring with those factors working against me. As I drew the bow, the wind was gusting. When the pin hit the target, it sat still for a second before the wind helped it drift to the left. Unfortunately, that’s when it fired. It landed halfway between the 10-line and the 8-line. I wasn’t happy about it, but I know that we can’t prevent those things from happening. It just comes down to luck sometimes. In a moment of bad luck, the ground I had been gaining was quickly lost. I would have to fight with all my might to hold on… five targets left.
I made great shots on the next few targets, barely missing 11s on all but one of them. I came within a fingernail width or two of shooting three 11s in a row. Sometimes you get them, and sometimes you don’t. I was highly disappointed but realized I was making good shots. I tried to feed off from that.
Approaching the last target, I saw that it was a long bedded doe across the lift and into the woods. It was one heck of a set. It was put in that place to test the mental skills of people who knew they had a chance to make it to the dance. The number stuck out to me as soon as I looked at it. I was going to have to battle the wind again and hope for the best. When the shot fired, I thought I had missed it to the left. Stepping away and glassing it, I was happy to see that it was a 9 o’clock 10.
I knew that morning shooters definitely had an advantage due to calmer conditions, and I’ve shot enough of these courses to make accurate guesses. Originally, I figured I would be number four or five to make it to the shoot-off, but after really looking at the people behind me and thinking about the course, I figured I might stay where I had started for the day. And that’s what happened. I would be going into the shoot-off tied for second place but with a bunch of guys a point or two behind. I also thought I was probably the only one who had shot two fives and finished at the top, same as I did at the last leg of the triple crown. Those two fives cost me there, and I thought these two would come back to haunt me here, too. The part that annoys me the most is that out of the four fives over the two shoots, not one of them were because of misjudged yardage.
The Shootoff
Everybody who goes to the IBO World dreams of making the shoot-off. Very few people look beyond that, though. I’ve always dreamed of being the winner. I have to say that I neglected my mental game training this year, and I believe that’s what failed me on the final day as compared to other years. During other years, I had always kept my performance journal updated. I always ended it with, “I’m a multiple time IBO World Champion because I perform better than anyone else under pressure. I win because I am a winner. I win because I’ve done it in the past. I shoot every arrow as if the impact point has absolutely no importance.”
Unfortunately, I didn’t do that this year, and this is the first time in 25 years that I’ve made the cut and lost ground. I’ve never gone backward. So where do we start?
I slept in a little bit and felt good about things. I wasn’t too amped up and knew that I would shoot well. After all, I’ve shot well all year, so why would 10 more targets be any different? I got to the practice butts and did something I hadn’t done since leaving the doctor’s office on Monday: I shot a lot of arrows. I probably went too early and shouldn’t have shot so many arrows. I could feel it in my shoulder, but my shots were going off like a hot knife through butter. I hadn’t made shots that good all year. They felt incredible.
When I made it to the bottom of the mountain, I saw that many groups were backed up and things were running behind. I took advantage of it and talked to many of my friends. It felt good to talk to Bill Burns. We met in the ‘90s in peer groups for the national triple crown and have remained friends since then. Luckily, we’ve both found a lot of success over the years, so we can usually speak each other’s language when we see each other. I feel fortunate to have met people like him during my years of shooting.
We always have those people who we admire from a distance, but we really don’t know them. We just know their names, and we know they have game. Well, I’ve always known who Mike Guraly is, and I also know he’s one of the guys to beat if you want to win anything. He was standing with Bill, and I finally got to meet him and talk to him. What a nice guy. There are a lot of great shooters out there, and we never get to meet some of them. I’m not sure if Mike ever knew who I was, but I knew who he was, just as many others do. I think I’ve been lucky enough to remain anonymous and blend in with other people who have no clue what they’re doing. I kind of like it that way, and I’m pretty sure that I’m probably just another face in the crowd, one of the shooters who everybody thinks has never accomplished anything. At the same time, I have a lot of good friends at the top of the ranks in all of the classes, including SPM, PMR and PSR, whom I have shot with in peer groups over the years in SPM and MBO, back in my glory days of the late ‘90s.
When we finally got going, I felt good about things. I made a good shot on the first target and scored an 11 on a Big 10 buck. The aim was a little shaky, but the shot was good. I made another good shot on the next shot, a Corsican ram, hitting just left of the 11.
As we made our way toward the next target, we heard a little commotion. Then, we saw what the fuss was about. The target had fallen off the stand it was on and was almost unshootable. Well, you could shoot it and easily skip off kill zone and shoot a zero. The feet of the animal were pointing directly at us, and the target was near the max distance, a little short of it.
Everyone, including spectators, started hemming and hawing about it. Seeing that nobody was going to do anything, I offered to walk back to the tent to have it addressed by an official. Within minutes, an official came to the target and couldn’t believe what had happened. The screws on the stand had come loose and fallen out, which knocked the target completely over. He did his best to fix it by putting a stick in the soft sand and trying to prop it up to hold it in place.
I would be the first shooter in my group. I knew my number would keep me safely in the 10-ring. It wasn’t too difficult to figure out what distance range the target fell into. I might hit it high 10 or low 10, but I was absolutely sure I had it dialed.
With everything that had gone on the last few minutes (walking back to the tent, having all of the spectators in close vicinity talking after every shot, the range official doing his thing) I got distracted and lost my mental focus for less than five minutes. When the pin hit the black mark in the 11-ring on the coyote, it didn’t hold steady. I tried fighting it and it bobbled at the last second and fired. I knew I was in trouble before the arrow got off the rest. I earned the five. It didn’t have a chance from the get go. I learned many lessons on that shot, lessons that will haunt me. Granted, I’ve won this tournament more than once and have been on the podium in other places, but this one shot will haunt me forever. For anyone who his reading this, please remember that you need to follow your process. I should’ve let one of the spectators walk back to the tent to get an official or one of the other competitors. I should have followed the process and let down when the aim deteriorated. I should not have been paying attention to the chatter all around me. Unfortunately, I paid the price. I probably wouldn’t have won the shoot, but I’m guessing I would have stayed in the same spot I entered the shoot-off if I had stayed true to the way I do things when I’m successful. I simply lost focus for a few minutes and paid the price.
It was a hard pill to swallow, but I’ve also been in enough of these things to know that you must keep fighting. I figured if I could get on a roll, I could eliminate that and end up even. I had seven targets left. Being the last shooter on the next target, a white ram, I felt a little unsure of my number. There was an arrow in the 11 and one just below the 10 line. The nock on that arrow was above the point, so at first look, the arrow appeared in, but after a closer look, it was out. When my shot broke, I heard a loud cracking noise. I knew I had smoked the arrow in the middle. When I heard a few comments from the spectators, I learned that wasn’t the case. I had ricocheted off the bushing of the low arrow, sending my arrow downward. Hoping it stayed in the 10, I realized that wasn’t the case when I got closer. It was a fingernail width out. The wheels were quickly falling off the bus and rolling down the pavement beside the empty shuttle. I still didn’t give in. If I could 11 every target left, I would be even. I’ve 11d six targets in a row in the past, so I knew I had the ability.
As we crossed a road on the course, I could see that my buddy Sean was walking down the road. It was somewhat of a relief to see a familiar face. I felt kind of outnumbered on the walk through the range, maybe a little out of place for some reason. Not that it bothered me, it just felt different. Sean talked to me for a bit, and I quickly regained focus and executed some of my best shots of the tournament while he watched. Earlier in the year, I wrote about how I usually don’t shoot well with him in my group for some reason. Well, today his presence got me back on track. I was able to make two great shots on an uphill turkey and an uphill fallow deer.
When the guy who was tied with me going into the final round shot a five on the last target, I knew if I stayed in the 10, I would beat him due to X count. I made a great shot to end my IBO tournament year, and the arrow hit nicely between the 11 and top of the 10. Walking to the tent to hand my card in, I was hoping that I salvaged a podium spot. I wasn’t confident in it, but I also didn’t know what the other groups had done. I knew that, like the night before, I would be on the bubble. When the dust cleared, I learned that I had finished in fourth place, a stunning disappointment for the way I felt at the beginning of the round and the way I finished the round.
I was happy to see Ted and Sara Kay standing by the tent when I finished. I learned that Sara had kept her spot and finished in second. I was happy for her. As I was headed to the tent to start my round the day before, Sara asked me what I would do if I were in second place and had a lot of ground to make up. I told her to stay focused and think back on times when she had great performances. You must be confident that you can produce those performances when you need them. I’ve done it more times than I’ve failed, so I always feel confident no matter how far behind I may be at the time. I always try to draw from my past to help people. While I’m not professional, I have had some great moments along the way in some really competitive environments against top shooters. I rode up the chairlift with the two of them, and it was good to know that the big shoots were done for the year.
I congratulated Sara on her second place finish, and she and Ted asked me if I wanted to ride up the chairlift with them. Although they were warned about that snake in the grass jumping out and striking them, they must've felt safe to let the little mountain rattler ride quietly in the seat beside them. I'm thankful for their friendship and having the sense to question things when necessary and search for the truth rather than assume things.
After getting off the lift, I realized something when I thought back to past accomplishments. To win the IBO World you must have a really good day, your average day, and a stick around day where you don’t lose any ground. Well, I feel that my first day was my average day, my second day was my stick around day, and my third day just never got off the ground. It wasn’t enough to stick to the spot I started in. I’ll have to build upon that and learn from the lessons I was presented near the beginning of the round.
My Take on the IBO World Championship
Since I had my shoulder wrapped in ice and could barely move it a week prior to the IBO World Championship, I really can’t complain with the way things shook out. When the doctor told me not to overdo it, I actually listened. I did that because of the amount of pain I could feel.
I did the best I could do throughout the weekend, but I know I didn’t have a peak performance. While I couldn’t hold the bow as steady as normal due to the shoulder issues, I didn’t pay attention to it. Instead of focusing on the pin moving all over the place, I just stared at the place I wanted to hit, and I hit it more times than not. Since I’ve been holding pretty steady this year, it took a little bit to adapt to it not sitting in the middle for very long. I executed my shots to the best of my ability but dealt with a lot of pain along the way.
At the end of the day, I felt like I had felt many years ago, almost on a weekly, monthly and yearly basis. I can remember missing the cut by one point on three different occasions, two of those years there were no ties and there were thousands of shooters in the class back then. Every time, I thought I had shot a good enough score to get in and fell short. The ride home after those events was excruciating. Then, I had the few times when I was in the top peer group and had an arrow blow up upon release one time and a release spring break another time, both causing zeroes with less than three targets left. Both tournaments I would have won if those things didn’t happen. There are many more examples I could refer to, but those closest to me have all witnessed it and thought I had a black cloud over my head. When you keep facing discouragement like that, it can wear you down. It can make you question your ability, and it can deteriorate your confidece because you just wait for the monster to rear its head at the most inopportune time. You’ve been there, you know he’s lurking. That’s kind of how I felt this weekend, especially with the fives. I simply lost this tournament on my own. It was there to win, even with the bum shoulder, and I gave it away. The guy who won was a great guy. I liked him. He earned the win, and he never showed a kink in his armor. He flat out pounded for the weekend. Even if I hadn’t faced my demons, he probably still would have won. Some weekends are like that. I’ve had a few like that myself. Even when you make mistakes, they never show up in the bad column.
I watched a lot of my friends bring home titles this weekend as well as 2ndand 3rdplace plaques. It’s awesome to know so many people who shoot so well. It drives me to be like them. They give me the motivation I need to get better. I know that they work hard to win, and it makes me realize I must work harder to join them. Although it is a hobby, it is my life. I love archery. I love the bad times and the good times. I just love shooting my bow because it’s fun. This weekend wasn’t fun for a lot of people. After it was all said and done, many people congratulated me and Jacob. I know in some ways I felt like he did. You don’t want to be negative, but at the same time it’s hard to explain how much turmoil you’re dealing with inside. Yes, making the cut is great, finishing 2ndor 4this even better, way better than most people were able to do. However, we both go to win. We expect to win. When our equipment or other unfortunate incidents prevent us from standing in the winner’s circle, it really hurts. Unless you have experienced something like that a number of times, it really isn’t understandable. I just wanted to say thanks for all of the compliments. I truly do value them and appreciate them. I appreciate all of you. I apologize if I might have seemed like the accomplishment of coming in fourth is insignificant.
Every year, someone’s performance stands above all others. I think Jon Thompson deserves an awful lot of credit for what he accomplished. He definitely pulled off a Roger Thibault feat, like I saw so many times back in the ‘90s. Jon, Roger was definitely looking after you this weekend. That was incredible. Great job.
The performance that blows my mind beyond anything out there is John Vozzy’s. John is a good friend. About eight months ago, Sean Roberts, George Connors and I sat in John’s basement working on my indoor bow because John always welcomes others to his house and has a great place to work on things. John had just had his shoulder replaced and couldn’t draw a bow, but he insisted he would work back to the same level and hopefully peak at the IBO World.
I watched John struggle a little bit this year, but he kept at it. Every once in a while, he would show a glimpse of last year John, the one who smoked everyone in the PSR class for the first 40 targets at the championship. Well, that John showed up again on the second day this year. He shot a better score than two of the best PMR shooters that have ever lived, Levi Morgan and Danny McCarthy. That is saying something, especially coming off having an entirely new shoulder put in less than a year ago. John, I admire your dedication to the sport. It’s incredible. I’ve also watched you grow over the years. I can remember the first time we met, and I have enjoyed watching you make your way into the 3D world and becoming a force.
I hope everyone enjoyed the read, even though it was extremely long. I have many other things to say, but I know this has gone way beyond what most people’s attention span can handle. I hope to give a yearly recap in the coming weeks if I have the time.
