The picture I chose to use for this entry sums up my weekend at the IBO World Championship, but I'll get into that as I progress through the event. When my competitive archery career started at the national level in the mid-'90s, I jumped in and saw almost immediate success. I had done everything I could do at a state and regional level and decided it was time to go play with people from all over the country. In my first national event, I cleaned the first course I shot and went on to secure a fifth-place finish with about 1,000 shooters in my class... and I had a zero on my scorecard. On my second-to-last target, I got about halfway into my draw and the spring that held the latch shut on my handheld release decided to give way and break, sending the arrow zinging through the woods. Although I can't tell you if I would've scored well, I can tell you I had the right number and I was shooting well. If I had even hit the target, I would've won the event. People tried consoling me, and I understood where they were coming from, but they didn't understand what I had to deal with. That was the first of many incidents that I would encounter over the next 20 years that always seemed to creep up at the worst times. I took all of them on the chin and wondered if my bad luck would ever break. Even my friends and competitors couldn't believe the things I dealt with from year to year.
In my early years, I knew if someone shot a 380 (10,8,5 scoring), he would make the cut at the IBO World because I had never seen where someone didn't make it in with a 380. Well, I did the job the next year and ended with a 381. I was one of the early finishers on Day 2, so I had to wait to see where things would shake out, but I was confident I had made the dance. However, something wore at me after having shot an 8 on a buffalo and a lion... the two biggest targets I shot at over the weekend. When the scores were posted that night, I learned that there were no ties and I had missed the cut by one point. It was also the first time that I had witnessed the top five shooters going in without any ties. I was sitting at sixth place and had to pack my bags to head home.
Encountering things like this continued following me around for the next decade. It began sucking the life out of me and had me questioning my ability. It seemed like I just couldn't catch a break. Then there was the year where I pounded in two of the three legs of the triple crown and got to the IBO World to realize I had forgotten everything but my bow at home. Although my bow was in the case, I had forgotten to pack my arrows, releases and stabilizers. I had to scramble to find stuff to shoot the night before the tournament. After finding everything, I realized I was going to have to shoot a caliper for the first time ever at a national event. I knew I could do it, but it felt foreign and my bow wasn't set up for it. Well, I made quick work of it and did the best I could. Once again, I missed the cut by one point and there were no ties. The bad luck continued in ASAs, IBOs and NFAA events, with things happening that I had never imagined possible, and I couldn't reach the top step of the podium. Eventually, I broke through and went on a run, but the good luck quickly dissipated and I began looking at my old self again in a new era.
That brings us to last year when I was in the top 5 after the first day. I was cruising through the second day and came upon a boar that was set in some ferns. Allen Conner, Jeff Hopkins and Art Brown all had 11s, and I was the last shooter. I aimed in the glob of arrows and executed a great shot. I heard my arrow clank off theirs and figured I had gotten an 11 too. When we got closer and began scoring arrows, my arrow had ricocheted just enough to land barely out of the 11 for a 10. When we finished the round and scores came in, Bowjunkie announced I had made the cut. Well, an hour later, I learned that the deflection had actually kept me on the outside looking in, and I missed the cut by one point... there I was at 6th place again with no ties. That brings us to this year. Sit back and enjoy the ride as I bring your through my weekend.
Day 1
My practice round didn't go the best, but I did get off it at +1 after 10 targets, and we shot some bombs. With a few personal things bothering me, I wasn't in the best of moods, and I brought it with me to the tournament. I was finding it difficult to focus, and the things in my head were getting more attention than my shooting... life.
So when I got to the tent the first day to head onto the course, it was nice to see Darrin Christenberry and Glenn Meadows. Having shot with both of them in the past, I knew I would have a good weekend because you can't ask for anyone nicer than those two guys. Although Darrin gets all the credit for switching to left-handed after being a right-hander for his whole life, Glenn also did the same thing. How cool is that? I commend both of these guys for their dedication to the sport. It's inspiring and makes me want to be better. Those guys have more of my respect than they could ever imagine.
Mike Sutter would also be in our group, but I had never shot with him in the past. As we got our cards and wandered down the road, I felt somewhat relieved to see we would be starting on an elk. Being a big target, I knew it would be easier to settle in and get the round going. I executed a great shot and hit a hair right of the 11. Moving to the second target, it was my lead. When I anchored, I felt good about the number and the target, which was an alert deer. As soon as I anchored the release fired, and I knew I wasn't quite ready. It hit a little to the left and low for an 8.
As we moved along, I picked up a few 11s. Then we got to a close leopard. After Darrin smoked the 11, I felt better because I could see his arrow. I would be able to lay my pin on his nock and let it eat.
When I came to full draw, I couldn't get the bow to settle, and I couldn't see his nock. I let down and decided to start over. On the second draw, the pin found his nock and sat on it. I pulled and the shot broke. A loud thwack followed and I heard Darrin's voice, "That's not good. You just ricocheted off my arrow into the 8."
When we walked down to the target, my arrow was stuck in the target almost sideways in the 8 ring. It had destroyed his bushing and nock and went zinging out the right side of his arrow. It was a quick three-point swing. I had executed a perfect shot and hit where the pin was sitting when the shot broke. Unfortunately, the bad break resulted in the loss of three points. I was a little irritated, and the irritation began to rise when I walked to the next target to see that I had to lead off a bomb of a lynx. Being short, I couldn't see the legs of the target. I knew it was between 45 and 50. I was going to have to use a sunspot on its back and try to make the best shot I could. I thought I had a good number, and the shot broke quickly when I hit the midsection... top of the 10. I sighed a breath of relief and knew I was back on track.
A few targets later, we came upon a long black bear. I knew it was the full Monty. Darrin shot first and hit it dead low. When I anchored, I couldn't get off his pin. Instead of letting down, against my better judgment, I kept pulling. When the shot broke, I was bouncing up and down a little bit and the arrow hit just under Darrin's for an 8. It was my fault. I should've started over but ignored the little man who was sitting on my shoulder talking to me.
After a string of 10s, we began getting backed up a little bit and the group behind us was catching us before we even shot an arrow. I stayed to myself and didn't socialize that much. Then we got to an impala target, and the stake was set a few yards off the road. The number stuck out to me.
When I drew my bow, I had a bad glare on both sides of my lens and I could hear everyone talking behind me. Letting the talk distract me, I tried to muscle my way through it and figured it would be okay. However, I couldn't really tell where the pin was sitting on the target. When the shot fired, I didn't expect it to be bad. Stepping away from the stake, I saw that the arrow was directly below the 8 line. Although I had perfect line, the arrow was well below where it should've landed. It was my own fault again. I should've let down and started over. Maybe the personal distractions I brought with me to the tournament from home allowed the distractions from behind me get into my mind and settle there at an inopportune time.
Picking my way through the rest of the course, I was happy to know we only had a few targets left. We got to a long Dahl sheep and Darrin put an arrow at 6 o'clock on the 10-ring. I knew I had enough number, but I also knew I was hitting a little low at 45-50 on the practice butts but never moved it, and I had also hit a little low throughout the day on the longer targets. I figured I would smoke it when the shot broke, and I was surprised when I heard a clanking noise. Darrin said, "You're not going to like this but I think it did the same thing as the one earlier."
After everyone got done shooting and we approached the target, I couldn't believe it when I saw that I had once again ricocheted off Darrin's bushing and ended up in the 8-ring. I marched to the next target, made a perfect shot, and Glenn just shook his head. I had shot yet another arrow less than an inch out of the 11-ring. I ended the day with four 11s and every 10 I shot but three were less than an inch from the 11.
I wasn't happy, and I knew my chance for making it to the final day were slim. I ended at 189 and had lost 5 points from ricochets. Darrin went home with two less arrows, and he had a chance to make the dance. Knowing how things work, I knew those five points would've put me in a great place going into the second day if I had gotten them. At the same time, I lost nine points from being complacent, which I pride myself for never giving in to complacency. Although I'd like to blame the five points for a less-than-stellar finish the first day, the nine points would've put me near the top five going into the final day. As it stood, I was near the bottom of the heap. I would have a lot of work cut out for me if I were to make a run the next day, but I checked into the past and realized I ran 13 11s one year and 15 11s another year in 20-target stretches and I knew I could make the ground up.
Day 2
I hemmed and hawed the rest of the day about the unfortunate incidents I encountered throughout my round, but I also knew I had the ability to come from the bottom and get it done. I had great practice rounds the last few weeks, and my shot had been feeling great. I would have to pass most of the pack, but I still felt confident. It wouldn't be easy, but I would never quit. While many others might pack it in and call it a year, I knew I could learn something the next day.
It started off well when my arrow landed in 10-ring on the first target. As Darrin was spotting my shots, it seemed like every one of them was barely out of the 11. The trend had continued from the day before. I just couldn't catch a break.
When we came upon two of the closest targets of the day, the sun was bright. I got the first one, a bedded doe, but the sun hid behind the trees while we shot. As we made our way to a turkey, I knew it wouldn't be too bad. Heck, it was only about 30 yards, and I love shooting turkeys. I would be leading it.
When I drew my bow, I couldn't see the bird at all. The glare was more than I could handle on my lens, so I let down to try it again. On the second draw, I still couldn't see where I wanted to aim. I tried to find where I was on the target and look around the peep. In doing so, I thought I had it and came back into my peep. Although I wasn't sure where I was on the target, I continued pulling. Then, I felt rage inside when I saw the arrow hit directly below the 8-line in the wing. It was about eight inches low, and I had a 5 on a chip shot because I didn't let down and start over again.
I marched through the next few targets and made good shots. The rest of the day went smoothly, and my shot was great throughout the round. I got through the round without making a bad shot. Although I finished at -2 for the day, I knew my complacency had kept me from finishing at +3.
When I began listening to my peers saying they believed -8 would make it in, I was a little irritated. The irritation grew when I actually found out that 392 made the cut. My card had a 387 on it... the five points I lost from ruining Darrin's arrows on ricochets had prevented me from making it to the final day. While I did my part in preventing myself from making it in, I actually did my part in shooting good enough shots to get in. Unfortunately, the rule states that you must take the score of the arrow where it lands unless it bounces or robinhoods the arrow and stays stuck in it.
I simply couldn't catch a break at this event. In some events you get all the breaks and in others you don't get any. It's all a part of the game. However, ricochets from two perfect shots this year and one perfect shot last year kept me out of the final shoot-down round two years in a row. It's discouraging. I won't lie, but I also own the fact that if I had done my part and paid more attention to detail during the round, I could've easily secured a spot in the finals. I believe respect is earned in this sport as well as in life. While I respect many people, there are others whom I do not. I had two incident happen the evening after the second round when I found out I had missed the cut. I saw Darrin and he came to me and gave me a hug and apologized for what had happened with the ricochets off his arrows. As a true competitor, he knows the disappointment associated with it, and he also knows I deserved to be there. I won't speak on the other issue that I encountered that evening. If you want to know why Darrin is so well-liked, this is why. He's a true sportsman.
I didn't forget all of you fellow archers from our region. You guys will all have your own space in this blog in the next few days. I'll do a little write-up about that. You guys all impressed me, wether you won, lost or just showed up and had a good time. I owe all of you for my success. You give me an outlet to let you into my world, so we can all experience it together. I do this in hopes of helping you guys succeed when you find yourselves in similar situations. The main lesson of this week is to avoid being complacent. It cost me making the shoot-off, and I own my failures. If you don't own your failures you will never succeed. Be accountable and take actions so the same things don't happen in the future.
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