Practice Day
When I headed onto the practice range, I realized it was going to be one of those days in which the pin wasn't going to sit down. Instead, I would have to rely on my shot execution to get through the round. Right from the get-go, I had all I could do to settle the pin down. Although the pin never cooperated, I still got off the course at +3 and felt good about it, knowing I would run into the same situation over the course of the next two days. There are always times when your aim won't look like it normally does. Those are the times you much rely on your shot and just trust it to put the arrow in the middle.
Going into the second set of 10 targets, I continued focusing on my shot. By the time I got near the end of the range, I realized I hadn't shot one arrow outside of the 10-ring. When I looked at a 38-yard lynx, I felt confident I would stroke that target, as my aim had finally improved a little bit from earlier in the day. I held good and made a great shot. Unfortunately, the shot landed a little bit under the 10-ring. When Jacob looked at my sight, he informed me that I didn't shoot it for 38. Instead, my sight was set on 36 yards. It was the second or third time Jacob had caught me doing the same thing in the last few weeks, every time causing me to shoot 8s that were over or under the 10-ring. I think I finally need to cave in and bring reading glasses with me to set my sight. After packing my bow back into the case, I knew I was ready for the first day of the IBO World Championship. I couldn't wait to get it started at 11:30 the next morning.
Triple Crown Awards Ceremony
After my practice session, we headed to the awards ceremony. Although it was highly disappointing to know I had missed an opportunity to secure a podium spot for the overall Triple Crown, I was happy to be part of a team that won the National Triple Crown. The two points that kept me from a podium spot in the individual category will give me motivation to make better shots next year, as I lost the majority of my points due to poorly executed shots at inopportune times throughout the Triple Crown. It's always difficult to accept a loss when you are directly responsible for beating yourself. I need to improve that part of my game, and the fourth place finish overall is proof of that.
Back in the spring, John Vozzy contacted me and asked if I was interested in being on his team. I gladly accepted and said I would do what I could to participate. Before long, I learned that he was going to sponsor a team called VozzyGen and my teammates would be John Vozzy, Glenn Meadows and Tim Gillingham.
We all fought hard throughout the Triple Crown and battled our ups and downs as we all experienced them. In the end, we had a stellar third leg in Nelsonville, Ohio, and secured the win. We won the shoot and found ourselves as National Triple Crown team champions. I'd like to think John for asking me to be on his team, and I'm thankful I had really good teammates in John, Glenn and Tim. Thanks guys and congratulations on our finish. I'm glad I could be a part of a team you guys had belonged to for the last few years. Glenn wasn't at the ceremony, so we only got pictures with me, Tim and John.
Day 1
I felt good when I fired my last few shots at the target butt and headed toward the sign-in tent to begin my day. Upon arriving, I expected to be able to unwind and relax for about 30 minutes before being sent onto the range. Unfortunately, the men at the tent said we could head to the range if we were all present. That's when I got up and headed toward the first target with the guys. Allen Connor, Art Brown and Jeff Hopkins would be my shooting partners for the day. I knew I would have a good time because I had shot with Art and Allen earlier in the year a few times, and they are good guys to be around. They are positive throughout the round and encourage one another. That always makes it easier to shoot. I hadn't shot with Jeff before this shoot, but walking to the target, I felt like he and I would get along.
After drawing cards, I learned that I would be the third shooter on the first target. It was a coyote that wasn't too far away, and I felt good about starting on it. When I drew my bow, the blue fiber disappeared. Then, I couldn't even see the fiber or the shank of the pin. I had to let down and start over. Before drawing again, I tried to figure out a plan of attack. When I hit full draw the second time, I couldn't see anything except an empty housing. It looked like there was nothing in the housing except a coyote. I decided to pull and see where it landed. When the arrow struck the target, it was low and left. It landed between the 10 and 8.
Extremely disappointed, I marched toward the second target. When I got to the crest of the hill, I could see a grazing doe that was at the bottom of a steep bank. It was intimidating to look at, and I knew I was going to have to make a good guess at the yardage and top it off with a better shot. Already down two points, I knew I could't afford to dig a four-point hole in two shots.
Following Jeff, I got to listen to his arrow in flight. That helped me to justify the number I had decided on. When I hit full draw, the pin went to the middle, drifted a hair right, and the shot fired. The arrow appeared just below the 11 and tad right. I was relieved, but looking out into the field, I could see that I was going to be leading off a nasty uphill wolf at the next target.
With Art and Allen still left to shoot, I sat in my stool and mentally prepared for the wolf I would be shooting in a few minutes. I visualized myself coming to anchor and getting a solid aim before pulling. I could see myself relaxing as the shot fired, and I saw it appear in the middle.
A few minutes later, I was on the stake, and I got ready to draw as a little wind gust cut through the grass. My mind centered on what I had just seen a few minutes earlier, and within seconds, my arrow appeared directly next to the 11. We actually thought it was an 11 until we got to the target and learned it was just a 10. It would be the second of my many near misses on the 11s for the weekend.
As we moved toward Target 4, I saw a big 10 looking at me from he woods. I knew it was going to be hard to see, but I would be last, so there would be arrows to guide me. When I drew the bow, my pin settled nicely, and I broke my third perfect shot in a row. I was finally finding a groove and beginning to relax. My aim was improving on every shot, too. My nerves began finding a home in other competitors, as I let the devil jump onto theme as we passed a few different groups. He tried his hardest to get me to join him on the first few targets, but I let him ride until putting him to bed at the Big 10.
I found a few more 11s on the next few targets. Then, I came upon a lynx. It was in the 35-36-yard range and wasn't intimidating to look at, but I also know any lynx target is hard to 10. When my arrow struck the 11, I knew I was on a roll... four in a row, and my shots were breaking smoothly.
As we meandered through the rest of the first 10, I stayed steady and had three more near misses on the 11. Coming off the first 10 at 103, I couldn't believe how easily it could've been 107. The near misses combined with the 8 I shot on the coyote because I couldn't see the pin could have easily catapulted me to the top. I know everyone needs some breaks here and there to win, and the breaks weren't falling in my direction. I just continued battling.
Target 11 was a long, uphill brown bear. I'm still not sure why it made me nervous. I knew the number looking at it, as I had shot my brown bear at the house all week in about the same range. The devil quickly jumped out of the bushes and planted himself in the outside of my ear. He kept whispering for me to go with him, and I teetered on the fence. Finally, my shot broke while the pin was dancing. My arrow found it's way into the bottom of the 10-ring.
I sat down on my stool and knew I had to do something to center myself. I began meditating and tried to get my heart rate down. I knew I had a battle ahead of me. My conscious mind was already headed toward the finish line, and I know that's a dangerous path to follow. The little red man desperately tried getting me to walk the line. I inhaled and exhaled as the others shot, and I tried to free myself from his hold.
Turning the corner, I saw a bedded buck. The target was severely angled, which was a big surprise. I've never seen a target angled like that at a national event. I almost wondered if we were looking down the correct lane. After assessing the situation, I felt confident with my number, but couldn't convince myself the target was as close as it turned out being. Knowing I was incorrect with my guess, I set the sight three yards hot. It's a mistake I've made here and there over the years, and I know I'm doing it incorrectly when I do it. My mind doesn't get back in the way and allows me to do it. Well, I shot directly out the top of the 10-ring for an 8.
After pulling our arrows, we walked to the next stake a few yards away. It was a boar, and it resembled one that I had shot at the house before leaving for the tournament. The yardage stuck out to me, and I felt like I was shooting marked yardage. However, when I drew the bow and settled in, the little red-faced man ran into my ear canal and got inside my head. He began jabbing my brain and bouncing up and down. Finally, he jolted me so hard I loosed the arrow, and it was on its way. I couldn't stop it and had no idea where it was going to land. Luckily, I heard Art tell me I had caught the 8 line low and to the right. It was one of the worst shots I made the entire year, and the nerve demon was solely responsible. I let him get inside my head and win the battle.
After pulling the arrows, I felt lucky to walk away with an 8... really lucky. I had escaped. Then, I saw a strutting turkey at the next station. I knew I could not afford to drop six points in a three-target stretch. I needed this one badly. On the first draw, I overaimed at it and almost let the little fella jump on me again. I let down and brushed him aside before drawing again. Then, I proceeded to shoot a 10. I had escaped again.
I battled my way through the rest of the course, misguiding an antelope and hitting it out the top. I also shot low 8 on the last target of the round, a bedded stone sheep. I had the right number but made a weak shot. I felt good about the day but knew I gave away six points on bad shots. I still found myself sitting in fifth place after Day 1. Here's the interview after the round.
https://www.facebook.com/Bowjunkymedia/videos/344854284034982
Day 2
At the practice bags before my round started, my shots were effortless and the arrows grouped great. I felt confident that I would have a good day. My shot felt great. Upon arriving at the tent, I saw that the rest of the guys were just getting there too. We would be sent out as soon as we gave the guys at the tent our cards. Although we were supposed to start at 9:30, we headed toward Target 1 at 9:00. I was happy to know that we would be off the range early.
When we got to the first target, the shadows were tricky. I knew it was going to be tough to aim, as I always have some aiming issues with poor lighting conditions. My shot felt good on the first two targets, and I expected both arrows to land in the 11-ring. Unfortunately, they both hit at 9 o'clock in the 10-ring. Tens are your friend, so I was satisfied with the result.
Looking at Target 3, a javelina, I knew I needed to 11 it. It was a little under 30 yards, and it's one of those targets that you lose points to the field if you don't 11 it. I led it off and smoked it... then went on a roll, getting the next four 11s. After the fourth one in a row, I was beginning to feel the zone coming into my surroundings. I felt like I couldn't miss. Then, I allowed something to distract me and shot an 8. I was irritated with myself and knew I had just given up two points to the field.
As we moved along, I continued executing good shots and felt good about how they felt. However, the arrows were landing all over around the 11 but not finding their way into it. Then, we came upon a boar and it was in the 30-yard range. I knew I would have to blast through some arrows to secure an 11, as all three of my shooting partners already had arrows in it when it was my turn to shoot. I decided to aim right at them and take what I got. When the release fired and I heard arrows clanking, I felt confident when Art said, "You got it at 3 o'clock. When we got closer to the target, we saw that my arrow had ricocheted a hair to the right and was going to be one of those arrows everyone had to look at. After getting a flashlight out and looking at it closely, we determined that it was on the outside looking in. It was no more than a fingernail width from touching the line. I just didn't get lucky. Looking back on it, I probably should've tried aiming to the left of the arrows and sneaking it in on that side. I did what I thought was best. Getting off the first 10 targets with a 103, like the previous day, put me sitting at 1 up with 10 to go. Here's a picture from an open pro group on the same target.
A few targets later, I saw a wolverine staring back at me. I knew it was between 40 and 45 yards because I had looked at mine at that distance many times in the two previous weeks. Although the little red-faced guy had remained hidden all day, he instantly jumped into my ear and started jabbing me with his pitchfork. Then he began racing through my mind. When the pin settled on the wolverine, he did everything he could to make sure the pin danced wildly across the kill zone. Then, he smacked me in the knees, made my back become weak, and the arrow was on its way. I knew it wasn't good, and the arrow landed in the 8-ring. It was low and right of the 10-ring and I had the right number.
Taking my 8, I sulked toward the next target, a blemished stone sheep. The blemish presented a decent aiming spot. I'm still not sure why I hit the 8-line low, but that's where the arrow found itself after I shot it. I do know it wasn't one of my best shots, but it wasn't too terribly bad either. Now, I knew I was probably done. I would have to 11 out to stay afloat. Coming down the stretch, I shot an arrow no more than an inch above the 11 on a fallow deer and one even closer than that on the alligator. I ended the day with an 11 on a brown bear and signed in with a 201 for the day. I knew I was going to be on the bubble and figured I would probably be the first guy out.
The Waiting Game
I've always enjoyed the years when there was no wait to find out if I made it to the final day. However, on this day, I knew the wait would be grueling. After an hour or two, a bunch of people began texting me and messaging me with congratulatory remarks. They told me they had read on Bowjunkie that I had made the shootoff. I was relieved and excited. I knew I hadn't been at my best, and I was still able to get in.
My Final Thoughts
When I was done, I instantly knew I had beaten myself. I never mind losing to my competitors, but when I beat myself, I have a hard time accepting it. I know I need to work harder to make sure my mind stays 100% focused on the task at hand until I get to the finish line. I let the demons show
themselves two times over the two days, and I paid the price my joining their shenanigans, losing a total of eight points in the process. I've kept them at arm's length most of the year, but I let them convince me to look toward the end without going through the target by target process to just allow myself to get their before thinking about anything. It only takes a few seconds or a few targets in which we become outcome oriented, and everything we have done to that point can quickly wash away. I will not allow that to happen again in the future. I held back from doing that all year. I'm still not sure why the devil beat me this time in convincing me to think about irrelevant things he wanted me to think about. I know I'm not weak-minded, so I will not give it anymore thought. It's just one of those things that even the best of them deal with occasionally.
themselves two times over the two days, and I paid the price my joining their shenanigans, losing a total of eight points in the process. I've kept them at arm's length most of the year, but I let them convince me to look toward the end without going through the target by target process to just allow myself to get their before thinking about anything. It only takes a few seconds or a few targets in which we become outcome oriented, and everything we have done to that point can quickly wash away. I will not allow that to happen again in the future. I held back from doing that all year. I'm still not sure why the devil beat me this time in convincing me to think about irrelevant things he wanted me to think about. I know I'm not weak-minded, so I will not give it anymore thought. It's just one of those things that even the best of them deal with occasionally.
Everything happens for a reason, and I believe I missed the cut by a point, so I could cheer on Jacob and my father. I would rather see either one of them on the podium than me. I thought I had finally seen Jacob conquer the 4th-place finish when he stroked a long javelina on the last shot of the tournament. Unfortunately, after a lot of looking, the arrow was scored a 10, putting him in 4th place.
As I watched my dad shoot in the top peer group, I was excited, even when his day unfolded in a way that I didn't like. Nine months ago, he couldn't even draw a 30-pound bow, yet I was watching him now. He shot the highest score in his class the first day and went into the shootoff in third place. I couldn't have been more proud or happy for him. I also thought it was great that Digger Cogar was with me watching his dad. Our dads were in the same group. It was a lot of fun to hang out. We both would've been happy to be in the shootoff, but we also enjoyed doing what we were doing. Sometimes things are bigger than ourselves and something or someone makes sure we are able to experience those things. I'm thankful for that. The year I came in sixth place in PSR will go down as one of the best years ever because I was able to witness my father's journey back to the archery range, and it was nothing short of incredible.
There are too many people from my region to list, but I want all of you to know how proud of you I am for making it into the shootoff. I wish I could have joined all of you, but you guys having success is just as good for me. I enjoy that as much as you do, so congratulations to all of you.
Also, I can feel the disappointment that many of you who missed the cut by one point. I've done that more times than you can imagine over the last 30 years. This year almost brought a tear to my eye like it did in 1998. It was the same type of feeling, and I don't ever want to feel it again. Unless you've felt it, it's hard to explain. Although I've missed many times, those two years stand out more than any others.
I'm participating in the Maine Senior Games this year. I haven't shot that target in two or three years, and I'm scrambling to get the bow set up to my liking. One of these days I will set something up well in advance and use it for that type of shooting. I just don't put much into it, so I can never expect much on the result end. I think it's a game that requires finding a good setup that works for your style of aiming and shooting.
Next week, I will be attending the annual team shoot that Shawn Couture puts on. That's always fun and enjoyable. It's relaxing and feels great to end my season each year. After those events, I will do a yearly wrap-up. I hope you all stay tuned and enjoy the rest of the summer.
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