New England ASA Classic

  When I knew I'd finally be home for a weekend, I was looking forward to going to New Hampshire to participate in the New England ASA Classic. Since I get very limited time to go to regional shoots to practice anymore, I knew this shoot would give me what I was looking for to prepare for the ASA Classic, which I will be attending next week. 

  I decided I would set a bow up that I haven't used and shoot it at this event. I wanted to see if lighter poundage and less holding weight would work better for me. Looking back on my past history, I tend to shoot better scores when I'm shooting higher let-off, even though I also tend to struggle with my shot. I figured it would be worth a try to see what it would bring. 

  It didn't take me long to get the bow ready to roll, and I was amazed at how well it held and shot. I started shooting consistent groups at 40-50 and knew the bow would do its job if I did mine. After a little bit of practice, I was getting the best groups I've gotten all year, and their was minimal effort on my part to shoot the bow well. 

  That's when I decided to head to Matt Draxler's range one afternoon. He has a great set-up, and the range is as close as you can get to a real ASA range. However, he has official Rinehart targets in every lane, and official ASA targets in every other lane. It's great practice for both IBO and ASA. I appreciate all of Matt's work and his offer to use his range whenever I want to use it. 

  I wanted to shoot at Matt's alone because that's how I do my best work. It allows me to analyze and work on things without being distracted. As I began marching through his course, my bow was shooting extremely well. I was enjoying the less holding weight, and I was aiming the bow better than I've aimed it all year. 

  Then, I pulled the bow back and sent an arrow into who knows where. The knot on the loop pulled through, and I had shot a lot of arrows out of the bow. I can't believe I never saw any sign it was going to happen, but I'm really glad it happened there and not at a big shoot. Finally, I avoided a little bad luck when it came to the forefront in a place where there were no consequences. I'm not sure why, but I think there's a big reason behind the screen as to why it happened. My bad luck for the year is behind me, and a new chapter is opening for these last two acts. 

  When I left Matt's I felt really good about the bow. I knew I had to make a few small changes, so I went home and took care of them and waited for the weekend. 

                                                                                  Game Day

  Unfortunately, there was no easy way to get to the shoot. We had to take winding roads through New York, Vermont and New Hampshire. Jacob met us at the house at 5 a.m., and we were on our way. I was exhausted, as I got about three hours of sleep. I quickly fell asleep in the back seat and woke up a few minutes before arriving at the tournament. 

  After firing a few rounds of warmup arrows, I felt good about the last group. The bow sat relatively still, and I shot a decent group, especially for being stiff and tired. Within minutes, we were on the course and ready to start our day. Our group comprised Jacob, Dad, and Rob LeLacheur. Jacob and I were shooting unknown and Dad and Rob were shooting known. I would have two bows going in the 290s to listen to for the day. This would definitely help me, as I tend to listen to bows to help with my numbers. 

  The first target was a standing bear, which isn't an official ASA target. When I drew the bow, I noticed a different hold than I had experienced while shooting at dots. The bow wanted to bounce up and down and drop out near the end of my shot. I felt really loose in the shot. I figured it would get better as we progressed through the course. I never make snap judgments in the beginning. I let things ride out before doing anything drastic, but it definitely didn't feel like it did at home -- or at the bag a few minutes earlier. 

  After hitting the bear low and right for an 8, I wasn't too happy as I walked down the trail. As we progressed through the first half, my hold and shot weren't cooperating, and I was battling with everything I had to stay afloat. I was trying the best I could to limit the damage while trying to find my shot and figure out why the bow wouldn't hold. 

  A few targets in, I took an ounce of the front of the bow and went from 5 1/3 ounces to 4 1/3. This seemed to help with the bouncing, but the hold didn't improve much in any other aspect. Finally, as we neared the end, I had all I could take. The hold and the feeling of the shots were getting under my skin to the point I was becoming irritated. 

  I reached into my release pouch and changed releases to one that had a strap that was hair shorter than the one I was using. Not knowing how the release would feel, I aimed center 10 at the last two targets of the first half and shot 11s on both of them. Both shots felt good, and I gained some confidence as we made our way toward our second half. 

  I felt good about my yardage estimations for most of the day, but the antelope to start our second half had me a little stumped. Unsure what to do, I made a piss poor shot because I didn't fully commit to it. I made sure to mentally note that and reminded myself to stay strong and steady after picking my number. The most important part of success to shooting well in unknown yardage is to shoot your shots like you're shooting marked yardage. It definitely makes life easier when you approach it that way. 

  We cruised through the second half, and I picked up confidence at every target along the way. As we came down the homestretch, I felt like I could hit everything, but I also knew I had to be smart and not get overly aggressive while thinking I was Superman. That can come back to bite you pretty hard when you're playing the ASA game. I made sure I gave every target more than enough number to get there and aimed at most of them. If I didn't get them, I came pretty close to them. 

  When the dust settled, I was sitting at +4 for the day, after dropping 8 points in the first 12 targets of the day, so once I changed releases and took the ounce off the front bar, I shot +12 on the last 18 targets of the day. I'd call that a successful day for may reasons but not so much because of the score. It was more successful because I figured a few things out in the middle of the round and made the corrections I thought I needed to make to right the ship before it began taking on too much water to stay afloat. 

                                                                                My Final Thoughts

  I'm incredibly thankful to have an IBO Triple Crown as well as an ASA series in my region. I love having the ability to participate in both of these series of shoots. It sharpens my skills and helps me be more competitive when I go to national events. I don't think people truly know how difficult it is to run any type of shoot, let alone running a series of shoots. I'd encourage all of you to take a look behind the curtain and realize that nonstop complaints and petty BS don't help anyone. Instead, it makes people feel unappreciated and sometimes dismisses their efforts for bringing us a lot of choices. Next time you go to a shoot make sure you thank the people who are allowing you to follow your passion. We should all try to support each other. There are strength in numbers and one hand washes the other. As the old saying goes, "If you build it, they will come." 

  If we can build the numbers across the board in all venues, whether it's NFAA, NAA, IBO or ASA, you just never know what might find its way to our region. There's nothing saying we might be able to get another national event like the NFAA event that took place in Hartford, Ct., about 20 years ago. Let's make a concentrated effort to show support across all organizations. 

  I really enjoyed the last two ASA events of the year. Both of them were set up somewhat similar to national ASAs, with basically all flat ground and easy walking. However, it still would be really cool if one of the events could eventually be set up to replicate a national pro-am, with tight lanes and all of the targets in a small area off a road. I think it would encourage more participation than we already have, and it would allow people to interact throughout the day. 

  I know most states are currently holding their ASA State Championships, including New York this weekend at Deerslayer. All of these events have shotgun starts on both days, and they are run like national events with shooters grouped with their peers. This makes the shooter of the year  titles and the state championship titles fair. When this is done, you're shooting with your peers, and you have no choice who your'e shooting with. The shotgun starts allow everyone to start at the same time and finish at the same time. It allows the kitchen to have everything ready, and it allows all volunteers to arrive and leave at the same time. The rounds don't take long to shoot, and the pressure of shooting with your peers simply cannot be replicated. I'm lucky enough to always shoot with my peers in the class I shoot in, and I can tell you firsthand that some people can handle the pressure and some people can't withstand everything that goes along with it. It helps shooters improve, and it gives them an advantage when they go to national events because they've already been there and done that. It also eliminates any funny business on scorecards and the leniency that sometimes goes hand in hand with shooting with your friends. After all, if you're going to win a state championship or a shooter of the year, earning it against your peers in a head to head format will mean more than most other things you will accomplish because you are on an even playing field where you cannot hide from you direct competitors. 

  When I started this sport, it was always my goal to make it into a peer group. I always performed better in peer groups than I did when I shot with my friends or family. I think it forced me to buckle down, concentrate and focus on the task at hand. I'll be forever thankful for the peer grouping in the IBO Northeast Triple Crown 30 years ago. Looking back on it, I can tell you with 100% confidence that those peer groups gave me the necessary skills I would need throughout my career to succeed in high-pressure situations. I'd love to see this happen for others, so they can get a taste of it and then use those skills at a national level. There's nothing better than having strong shooters come out of one region, and I think that's the reason why our region produced some great ones over the years. The best shooters under pressure truly won, and others learned they were not mentally up to the task. 

  I know most people enjoyed the peer grouping when we started it a few years ago for the IBO Triple Crown. Many people told me they felt pressure they had never imagined. Some of them loved it, and some of theme loved to hate it. It definitely helped a handful of people when they got to national events, and they excelled when the time came for them to be in peer groups with the big dogs. Anything we can do to build great shooters and expose others who might be more comfortable out of their small groups is a bonus in my opinion. Everyone improves in the end. 

  I've had many people tell me I look calm in shoot-offs and in peer groups when they walk the pro range and watch people shoot. If we give these people the same opportunity at a regional level, it allows them to see and feel what I feel. It's no different whether it's a peer group for a state title or a shooter of the year title on a regional level. The pressure is the same. It also gives some people a feeling they will never experience at a national event because they don't go to national events. It definitely shows who has game and who does not. I want to beat people head to head, and I want to beat them at their best. This would allow us to see the best shooters in our region battling it out. It also shushes all the nonbelievers of some of our great shooters who aren't as well known as others. Up and comers must start somewhere, and this gives them a chance to build upon their reputations. It's how I made my way when I was much younger. The shotgun starts are no different than indoor shoots in the winter. Everyone knows what time the line starts and what time they have to be there. It seems much more organized, and it gives all attendees a chance to visit with each other because they're all on the same schedule. 

  I probably ranted too long about that topic, but I know that kind of stuff was essential to my growth as an archer. I also met people I probably never would have known otherwise, and it allowed me to learn how I could improve and what I needed to work on to shoot under pressure against the best my region (then the country) had to offer. Those victories are some of my most cherished prizes I've ever won in archery... the ones when I beat people who were talking sh*t about me when they didn't know me and before I had built a resume. 

  I'll be headed to the Classic next week. I've decided not to shoot the bow I shot last weekend. I'm going to shoot the trusty dusty green Veracity 35. That bow just seems to be more comfortable in my hand, and I think I prefer more holding weight than what the black bow offered. I can get my shots off better, and I have it aiming well. I also changed my stabilizer setup on it, and it seemed to steady it out a little. I'll test it this weekend at a shoot. 

  I feel the most confident I have felt in a long time. I believe things will fall into place over the course of the next few weeks. My mind is clear, and my shot is good. I'm ready for what's on the road ahead, and I'll embrace whatever I encounter. If I have to make little changes along the way, I learned this past weekend that I can figure it out on the fly and get good results. Don't ever be afraid to make changes during the round. It doesn't do much good if you wait until you get home. 

  Keep at it and never give up. We are all on the same road together. From Joe to pro, it's a journey most of us start when we fire our first arrow. What are you willing to do and how far are you willing to go? You are the only one who has the answer. 

  

Sportsmanship: Where Does the Line Get Drawn?

 I’ve been involved in athletics in some way or another since my childhood. I’ve been lucky enough to be a part of great teams, as well as teams that could barely function. I’ve been friends with some of the best professionals in the world, and I’ve been friends with amateurs of all levels. In my travels, I’ve seen people’s character come to the forefront on many occasions, but character is never more visible than when someone is challenged in the heat of the moment. The reactions that play out will tell you a lot about a person’s true character. 

  I’ll never forget the day I lost a Little League championship game when I was 6 years old. It was a drizzly day, and Dad was the coach. We gave it our best but came up short in the playoffs. Although I was only 6, I was devastated. 

  After picking up the gear and sending all the kids on their way, Dad grabbed the equipment bag, slung it over his shoulder and told Mom to wait for us in the car. Now that I was away from my teammates, tears rolled down my face. We had walked from the field and stood against the center field fence where the 12-year-old kids were playing. Dad put his arm around my shoulders and explained to me that a part of any competition is to accept the outcome and try to learn from it. He went on to tell me that losing is a vital part of success, and he also explained to me the importance of respecting my fellow competitors, even if I didn’t like them. While I didn’t have to respect them as people, I had to respect them as competitors. He told me to never let my emotions get the best of me and to listen without reacting. He also explained that umpires will make calls that create disagreements and told me I should accept the outcome and move on, especially if one umpire refers the call to another, and the other still makes the same call.

  Well, here I am, almost 50 years later, and I still remember that father-son teaching moment. I have never forgotten it, and I have always respected my opponents in all the sporting events in which I have participated. 

  I learned another lesson from my mother about the same time of my life – my early years of elementary education. She told me to always listen closely to what my teachers said, write it down as quickly as possible, and do exactly what they asked. She told me if I did that, they could never say I didn’t do what was asked of me, even if they claimed that’s not what they said. I would also have what they asked of me transcribed onto paper, so I could easily refer to it and tell them exactly what they said, as many people can’t recall what they said or pretend they said something entirely different. 

I started my archery career at 5 years old... left handed.

  Why did I share that with you? I shared it with you so you could keep those lessons in the back of your mind while reading about something that I encountered at the last leg of the IBO National Triple Crown. It’s something that could’ve been easily avoided if cooler heads prevailed. I, however, was pushed over the edge when my character was put into question.  I’ve spent a lifetime making sure I would always be respected for my character. My goal in life has always been to become a person whom both my parents would be proud to say they raised. I always want them to see that the lessons they shared with me and the examples they gave me to follow created a good person who shows respect -- and is respected. If I have failed in that mission, it’s not because I didn’t have the best role models paving the path for me.

 

                                                                     The Origin of Conflict

   Every conflict, no matter what it is, has a stem from which it originates. Some disagreements happen almost instantaneously, while others brew over long time periods and come to the surface at unexpected times. Some are lit by a short fuse, and others boil until the water has almost evaporated – at least on one side. 

  As my group made its way through the first round of the tournament, three of us couldn’t seem to get it going, and Jeff Kirkland was quietly schooling us. I treaded water throughout the round, and there was a decent amount of small talk, but I didn’t participate in it other than nodding my head yes or no here and there and adding a quick story about a few elk I have killed over the years. I also shared with Tim Gillingham which broadhead I tend to use, as he asked me while we were standing around at one target near the end of the day. 

  As we headed down the homestretch, I began struggling with my shot and quickly lost nine points in a five target stretch due to complacency. Then, when we got to the final target, I got a 10 and felt a sense of relief that the shooting was done for the day. Standing at the stake with my group and Destini Davis, Digger’s girlfriend, we looked at the arrows in the target with our binoculars and wrote the scores on the scorecard. In the binoculars, there didn’t appear to be any questionable arrows, so we decided to record the scores and get a head start on the cards to save time. Jeff, Digger and Tim walked to the target to score arrows. As Destini and I compared cards, I looked up the hill and Tim was pointing at me and motioning me to come up the hill. 

  When I set my stuff down and started up the hill, I knew the walk was senseless and couldn’t possibly result in anything good. I already knew the arrow in question was Digger’s arrow. I also knew that Jeff and Tim must’ve disagreed on the scoring, so that meant one of them thought it was in and one of them thought it was out. Most people don’t know this trivial fact, but in IBO events, the shooter can call his own arrow. Nearing the target, I knew that Digger must’ve called the arrow in, so in reality, it didn’t matter what I thought about it. If I thought it was in, it would be 3 vs. 1 in, and if I thought it was out, it would be 2 vs. 2 out. Either way, the arrow would be scored a 10. There was no need for me to be called to the target – unless Digger was the only one who had called the arrow in, which was not the case.

  Upon getting to the target, Tim looked at me and asked what I thought about the bottom arrow. I looked at it closely. A quick glance told me it was in, and as I got closer to it, I saw that the arrow was residing in a small hole, no larger than an arrow bushing, that was directly through the middle of the 10-line. There’s no way I could call the arrow out. It was in a hole where the line should’ve been. If anyone was going to call it out, I figured it would be Jeff because Digger and Jeff were neck and neck for the second spot on the podium for the National Triple Crown. However, Jeff had called it in. 

  As soon as I called it in, I was berated with inappropriate language, hand gestures, and insults. In the 36 years I’ve been shooting in 3D tournaments, I’ve never experienced what I experienced in the next five minutes. No person should ever have to deal with unsportsmanlike behavior like the episode I witnessed – and have seen in the past at different times from the same individual.

  After the arrows were pulled, and we began walking down the hill back to the stake, I tried to ease a little of the tension by voicing my opinion that sometimes just because people don’t agree on things, it doesn’t mean that either person is right or wrong… they just see things differently. My thoughtfulness received an unwelcoming that is almost impossible to explain. Once again, I was berated with harsh insults. At that point, I realized I probably should’ve never said a word after giving my opinion on the arrow. When I opened my mouth, I got the feeling that what I received had been boiling for quite some time. Digger and Jeff weren’t getting yelled at for calling the arrow in, so out of the three of us standing there, I took the brunt of it. 

  As the exchange continued, I got to the point where I was pushed to the edge of a cliff. Anyone who has shot with me or knows me knows I’m relatively quiet. I’m supportive of my peers as well as all others. I always encourage my friends and competitors alike. I want to beat people at their best. I don’t want others to struggle. I learned a long time ago that when you are positive with other people, you open yourself to more positivity. This has always helped me. If I don’t focus on the negative, it’s easy to surpass bumps in the road and pretend they never happened. If I shoot a 5, I always think I will shoot at least three 11s in the next five targets to make the 5 an 8. I never give in. I fight until the end. I’m not a confrontational person unless I get pushed over the edge. I have unlimited patience with people, but when the switch gets turned, I will not hold back, and that’s what happened on Saturday afternoon. I transformed into someone most people had never seen. I was raised to display good sportsmanship and not tolerate people who disrespect me and hurl insults in my direction simply because they were unable to take a step back, look at what had just happened, and realize there were three people who saw the argument the same. When you are standing on an island alone, the chance of you being wrong is substantially greater. Recently, I listened to a podcast on Bowjunky and it was all about what the numbers say. Well, the numbers spoke loudly and clearly. Nothing more really needs to be said. There was one guy standing on the island alone, and three guys floating around in the boat out in front of it… three guys in the boat, one guy out of it. The confrontation got heated, and I have no problem admitting I also got a little out of line. I can own that, and I apologize to any of the shooters on the range who may have been affected by the chaos I took part in. 

  Approximately 30 years ago, I decided to trek to Flatwoods, W.V., to try my hand at the Grandaddy of them all, The IBO World Championship. If my memory serves me right, there were about 4,600 shooters at the event. There was no social media, and the only way anyone would know anything about what was going in the world of tournament archery was to see advertisements in bowhunting magazines, see posters in shops, or subscribe to 3D Times magazine. I knew who the pros were, and when I saw them in person, I was in awe. Randy Ulmer, Jackie Caudle, Burley Hall, Randy Chappel, Sonny Chappel, Shannon Caudle, Pete Works, Allen Conner, Randy Hendrix, and many others. Pros were easy to recognize, as they were the only ones who wore shooter shirts at the time. They also carried themselves in a way that set them apart. They were well-dressed, well-spoken, and acted appropriately on and off the range. When I saw the professional shooting staff shirts, I wanted to one day be able to wear one and be looked at as a role model. I didn’t care if I ended becoming Randy Ulmer or some barely known pro who was almost always in the hunt. I just wanted to be a person others could look at and hope to become. I wanted to be a Joe’s pro and lead by example. There were no pros on social media promoting the products they represented – or more importantly… themselves. 

                                               IBO World Championship -- Flatwoods, W.V.

  At that IBO World, I was in a group with three guys from the South. One of them was from Alabama, and he was about the same age as me, and we hit if off instantly. The guy’s name was Jimmy Butts. Although both of us were shooting great shots, our judging left a lot to be desired. One of the other guys in our group was creating tension that we could cut with a knife. He obviously never had any lessons on sportsmanship. He was throwing stuff through the woods after shooting bad shots. He would punch targets and kick dirt after not scoring 10s. He would say stuff to Jimmy and me while we were at full draw. This went on the entire tournament. 

  After we tallied the cards up, Jimmy told me how discouraged he was about this man’s behavior and how someone like that should not be allowed on the range. People like that take the fun out of it. A few years later, I saw Jimmy Butts’ picture in the magazines for breaking a target-archery record, maybe in Cuba if my memory serves me right. 

  That event happened about 30 years ago, but it still sticks with me like it was yesterday. Then, last weekend, the same thing happened on a professional range at the Third Leg of the IBO National Triple Crown. Pros, of all people, should lead by example. I still can’t believe the behavior I witnessed, and it was all, according to one individual, because people can’t have a difference of opinions on something. It’s a sad state when something that is done for enjoyment is sometimes made totally unenjoyable due to someone’s unsportsmanlike conduct that is inexcusable and appalling. Then, they try to excuse their behavior by saying it stems from being highly passionate.

  We are all passionate, otherwise we wouldn’t travel to all these tournaments. Passion should come with an unbridled ability to always stay in control. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a Joe or a pro, when you put your character on display for all others to see, it speaks volumes about you as a person… and as a competitor.

  In my opinion, the things I witnessed last weekend displayed what this country has begun battling over the last decade: far too many people who feel entitled think they can do whatever they want without any consequences. They can burn cities down; they can loot buildings after smashing the glass out of the windows, they can terrorize people in the cities, they can tear down historic statues, and the list goes on. We’ve all seen it on the news unless you are living in a vacuum. 

  So how is this any different on an archery range? If people feel entitled, I believe it gives them the ability to hurl insults at people with whom they disagree. Does it give people the ability to recruit others to believe unknown yardage events are the most ridiculous form of archery competition… yet still show up at every one of them? Is that hypocrisy at its finest? Does it give people the ability to throw things and drop F-bombs when they think they should’ve shot an 11 and they shoot a 10… or how about when they shoot 8s? Does it give people the ability to leave their cellphones on while on the course and not silence them, so others can here the pinging noises of the text messages they’re receiving? Then, when the crowd has gathered to watch pros in shootdown rounds, does it give the pros the ability to drop F-bombs and spew other foul language when they lead the round off with a misjudged target for a 5? Where does the entitlement come from? It comes from people not being punished for their wrongdoings. If there are no consequences for their actions, they’ll keep burning cities down and terrorizing people. Archery is no different. 

  If there are rules in place and the rules are not enforced, then I can understand why we might have a few of these individuals doing what they do. They know they can do it and they will never suffer any consequences. Unfortunately, the behavior that nobody should ever have to deal with will continue. Entitled individuals never see themselves in the wrong. It is always someone else’s fault.  However, a few years back, we all saw when an individual paid the price for not following the rules in the rule book, and this person was used as an example at the biggest archery event in the world. This did not have to do with a behavioral issue. It had more to do with overlooking and not fully understanding some of the protocol, but an example was still set. The bigger question is… would the same example have been set if the person was one of the most well-known professionals in the world? That’s an answer we will never know. Until something gets done, we will continue facing the dilemma that many of my peers and I face regularly. Many of them have learned to laugh it off, and they have become numb to the outbursts. 

  As I held the umbrella for Jacob Slusarz in the shoot-off, he led the first target off with a low 5. He was not happy. He simply muttered something under his breath and let it go. He was not happy about it but didn’t let the first three rows in the crowd hear what he thought. That’s called control, discipline, sportsmanship… and respect, respect for himself and all those around him. Respect is something that many people could learn from and use. In private, Jacob used some foul language and displayed his unhappiness. However, he recognized where he was and how he should behave. The low shot surely cost him any chance of winning the tournament, and it cost him finishing on the podium for the event… and he still didn’t blow a pipe and excuse it because he is so much more passionate than everyone else. I’m passionate, along with many archery aficionados, and I would love to be able to yell and scream and heckle shooters in the shootdown rounds, but I know it is socially unacceptable and unsportsmanlike. 

 Jacob shoots a 5 and mutters under his breath so I'm the only one who can hear it

  Having no self-awareness is a huge problem in our sport, and it surely needs to be addressed. It’s our job as shooters, fans, and organizations to ensure that people follow the rules. If we all work together, it will clearly make our arena more attractive to a wider variety of individuals, and it will relieve a lot of tension. If you break the rules, you should be punished accordingly. 

  Over the last 30 years, I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Digger Cogar and Darrin Christenberry regularly, with at least one of us our all of us near the top of whatever class we shot in. We all started this silly game at the same time and came through the ranks together. When life happened, and I needed extensive shoulder surgery, I checked out for a bit, but when I had the opportunity to rejoin these guys in Senior Pro, I welcomed it with open arms because I always respected their abilities, and I knew the three of us were always in the hunt at almost every event when we were young lads. I also respected them. They had earned my respect, and in return, I had always hoped they respected me too. We can’t force others to respect us, but we can let our character speak for itself. 

  This year alone, I’ve had the pleasure of shooting with many different people. While some people’s personalities mesh better with each other, many others don’t mesh at all. No matter the circumstance, I never take my like or dislike out on anyone because I don’t agree with them. I’ve been involved in close arrow calls my entire archery career. Some of them have been intense, and others were laughed off within seconds. However, I’ve never had anyone hold a grudge and act in the manner I experienced last weekend, which was totally unacceptable, especially when two others also had the same call. I’ve seen Darrin ticked off about calls; I’ve seen Tazza roll his eyes a time or two; I’ve seen Digger irritated after trudging away from a target; and I’ve seen Hopkins get a little snappy with others. However, none of these guys let it carry on and turn into an all-out battle where insults were hurtled onto anyone about their character. Agreeing to disagree is all a part of the game. 

  I’ve probably rambled for far too long, but this episode did not sit well with me. I’m an easy-going person who cheers for other people while wanting to do well myself. I believe my character speaks for itself, as I treat people how they treat me, and I always try to give back. I never want someone to look at me after a round or during a round and know how I shot by looking at me. I don’t want my behavior to waiver. As a professional, I always try to carry myself in a way that reflects what I saw from the professionals at my first IBO World Championship 30 years ago. Those guys paved the path for us, and I feel like the luckiest man alive to be a professional and have the honor to have people see me at the events, even in my worst moments, and admire the way I carry myself both on and off the range. If you want to follow great role models, I suggest following Darrin Christenberry, Tony Tazza and Jeff Hopkins. Those guys are as passionate as they come about archery, and they have always behaved in a respectful manner around me when things may have gotten heated for a minute or two while they might’ve agreed to disagree with me or others in the group. I enjoy shooting with these individuals. They remind me of the greats whom I used to look up to, and I get to share stakes with them regularly and call them friends. 

  Due to the complications I have from managing Type 1 diabetes for the last 50 years, as well as the constant severe pain in my shoulders and arms from my reconstructive shoulder surgery and the many complications that I currently face with that, I have considered hanging it up at the end of this year. People have no idea how difficult it is for me to compete at that level with all the things I face that many others can’t fathom or see, especially the things that go along with Type 1 diabetes on a minute to minute and day to day basis, and the ordeal I faced last weekend made the thought of saying goodbye become even more appealing.

   I’ve made lifelong friends in this sport, and I love enjoying a day on the range with them, especially the ones that I battled against in MBO 30 years ago. Every day on the range, I know if I beat those same guys all these years later, I have a pretty good chance of doing something. Now, like then, they are still the alpha wolves and the ones who set the standard. It’s too bad more people couldn’t display good sportsmanship like those guys, and show the younger generation how to act, just as Ulmer, Hall, Caudle and Conner showed everyone how to act. I’d like to thank those guys for leading by example and showing me how to act when competing and interacting with all archers… and people. 

  I’d also like to thank Digger and Darrin for still making me strive to be better, so I can somehow keep pace with them like I did 30 years ago before all the health issues began making it more difficult. I admire the way you guys carry yourselves and am glad to be able to call you friends. I appreciate the time you have both given me to listen to me ramble about dumb stuff over the years too. It has never gone unnoticed or unappreciated. More than anything, I appreciate your good sportsmanship, even when we have disagreed. 

 Met these guys 30 years ago and we're still at it

 

 

 

3rd Leg of the National Triple Crown

  Looking at this picture of me holding the umbrella for Jacob should tell you the outcome of my event. It simply wasn't my weekend. However, Jacob made all of us proud and gave us a lot to cheer for as he took home the title of Open Pro National Triple Crown Champion. It has an incredible ring to it, and it's something that so few archers ever actually even have a chance to accomplish that it is mind-blowing. We were all rooting for him going into it, and we all believed he could do it. Then, to see that he gained some ground and tied it up at the end of Day 1, it became more exciting. It came down to the last 20 targets to break a three-way tie to see who would take home the title. Jacob always seems to excel when he has the prize in sight, and he put the pedal to the floor and took it home in style. Congratulations, Jacob. You make all of us in your region, especially in your little group, proud. Thanks for always including us and reminding us that you are an archer who likes to shoot his bow. Being humble is one of your greatest qualities, and it's appreciated by many. 

  Now, I'll try to give you a few details from my weekend. This won't be too terribly long because I don't have much to say about it. I'll preface it by telling you that sometimes we never truly know what others are thinking or what they're battling. Going into this event, I was dealing with a few things that have taken up a lot of space in my mind and made it difficult to focus and concentrate. 

  Although archery has always given me the things I need to quiet my mind, that has been almost impossible in the last month. It has not been easy to focus on anything involving archery, and I probably paid the price for it last weekend. I will not lie and tell you I wasn't prepared, though. I put the time in, and I focused on the things I figured I would encounter. 

  My practice was the best it has been in two years, and I had 100% confidence that I would be in the shootdown round and maintain the third-place position in the National Triple Crown. I felt so good about it, I would have bet the house on it. I felt like I had a legitimate chance to win this event. I didn't go into it with any expectations. Instead, I went with confidence and knew I would put my practice into play. 

  Dad, Jeff Wagoner and I shot a really short practice course in the morning. It didn't do much for us, as there wasn't enough yardage on it to test any yardage-judging abilities. After finishing, we ate some lunch and headed onto the other practice range. As we began making our way through it, Jacob met up with us and we took it to the end. I did not hold  or execute well during the practice round, but I figured it was probably from traveling. I ignored it and hit the pillow early. I couldn't wait to start the round the next day. 

       Day 1

   

 Sitting under a tree with Jeff and Tyler, we lost track of time. Jacob's mother pulled in next to us and asked what we were doing. We suddenly realized we were late to the meeting and began hustling to get to it on time. It got me out of rhythm and made me feel anxious. I only had a few seconds to catch my breath after arriving at the meeting place, so I took it in and tried to relax... it didn't work. 

  The walk to the target took me along winding trails and up steep hills until I finally arrived at our starting point. Looking down the lane, I saw the new big ram. I felt a sense of relief to see that we would be starting on a big target. That always brings a sense of relief with it. After drawing the cards, it didn't bother me to see that I would be leading it off. 

  When the horn blew to start the round, we had barely had enough time to recover from the walk. I was dripping with sweat due to the humidity, and I felt somewhat lightheaded. I could tell it was going to be difficult to focus. When I drew my bow, I felt good about my number, but the sight picture wasn't what I expected. I had a lot more movement than I had anticipated, but I kept pulling until the shot fired. I was a little long in my hold and felt a lot of tension in my forearm and upper arm. I knew the pin was in the 10-ring when the release broke free from the string. I felt relieved when I heard Gillingham say it was a tweener 10 at 4 o'clock, meaning it was halfway between the 11 and 10. 

  After pulling our arrows, we wandered over to the next stake, which had a black bear at the end of the lane. Looking at it, the number stood out, and I couldn't wait to shoot it. When it was my turn, I drew the bow and hit anchor. Once again, I could feel abnormal tension in my forearm and shoulder. I hadn't experienced anything of the sort since I started shooting this bow, and the feeling was awkward. I wasn't sure how to battle it or get rid of it, so I let the pin dance wildly across the 10-ring while I pulled. When the release fired, the arrow landed in the 10-ring again. 

  As we made our way through the next few targets, the sight picture didn't seem to want to settle down. I didn't feel overly nervous, so I wasn't sure what was causing the issue. Looking back on it, I still can't identify the source of the feelings I experienced. However, the sight settled when I drew on a close boar and put the arrow in the place I was staring. Unfortunately, it was a hair to the right of the 11. 

  My hold finally settled nicely on the howling wolf, and I felt great about the shot. I was sure I had smoked the 11 when the shot broke. Once again, I missed it by a smidgeon. As we continued, through the first 10 targets, I battled everything an archer can battle, but I withstood all of the punches the archery gods threw at me. I took a few glancing blows and dodged a jab or two. I even dodged a big uppercut on an uphill fallow deer and put an arrow on the line of the 10 at 4 o'clock. I was taking every punch that was being thrown at me. Thankfully, my training saved me, as I continued protecting myself to get through each round. 

  After shooting a medium alert deer on the side of a hill, then walking a few feet to shoot at a bedded buck that had a good angle to it, I felt great about the shots when I walked out of the small hollow they were set in. Turning the corner, I knew I was looking at a back breaker. You always come across shots that are meant to separate the field, and the lynx across a small flat between two big ridges was definitely set to be one of those targets. Jeff Kirkland led it off with a great marker. The arrow was on the edge of the 10 at 9 o'clock, but we couldn't tell whether it was in or out. The lynx is one of my favorite targets, and I have done well on it the last few years. My pin settled nicely beside Jeff's arrow, and the shot broke effortlessly. I had secured a 10 on my scorecard. I felt good to escape the target with double digits. 

  Walking away from the lynx, I saw the large white goat on a flat spot up a hill. When I looked at it, a number registered in my head, but I ignored the number. When I didn't see any arrow holes above the 10-ring, I began adding yardage and kept going. Ignoring what the target looked like, I made a crucial mistake. I even knew I was doing it when I shot my arrow. The arrow landed near the 8 line above the 10-ring. I was irritated with the way I ignored everything I've ever practiced. My focus just wasn't where it needed to be. 

  Moving to the next target, a really steep uphill bear, I knew I had to recover and make a good shot. I did just that, smoking the 11-ring on the bear. It was one of my best and most powerful shots of the day. However, the pin was still not sitting remotely still. I was still taking the punches. My legs were getting wobbly, but I knew I was headed toward the end of the fight. 

  When we had five targets left, some more tension crept in and the nonstop uphill shots finally caught up to me. My unsteady hold and inability to keep the shot solidly in my back caused a few issues. I'm not sure if it was my mental or physical exhaustion that caused it. It could've possibly been the mental landslide I've faced over the last month. Maybe it just came crashing down on top of me. I tried my best to hold on and shot a 10 on the last target of the round, which is where I got backed up to the edge of a cliff and decided I was not going to be pushed over it. 

  Unfortunately, there was an arrow on the bottom of the 10-ring. The arrow had landed in a hole in the middle of the ring. Although two people in the group had already scored it as a 10 and one scored it as an 8, I was still asked for my opinion. I looked at it and said I thought it was a 10 due to the arrow being in the hole that was where the 10-ring line should've been. 

  This created an all-out argument that took a lot of twists and turns over the course of five minutes. A few minutes into it, my character was put into question, and that's all I could take. Do not question my character due to your unsportsmanlike tendencies and behavior. That's all I will say on this now, but in the coming days, I'm going to address the entire incident in another article. I believe it deserves its own space and should not be included in this. I got off the course at 11 down and dropped 11 points in the last five targets. I was highly disappointed, but knew I could come back the next day. Gillingham was sitting in 5th at 8 down, only three points above me and Digger. Kirkland shot the high round of the day at +1. Many others fell between 8 and 13 down. I knew a solid day would give me a shot at making it into the shootdown round, and I figured I would not have another day of a constant struggle with everything involving 3D archery. I somehow survived all the punches and never got knocked out. I learned to withstand the punches and not get negative as the blood was dripping from my eyes and mouth. I still had a chance. The skunk next to Jeff at dinner after Day 1 summed up what I thought of my performance. 

                                                                   Day 2

  Going into Day 2, I felt confident. Unlike Day 1, my shots felt great at the target butt, and I was ready to make a run. Getting to my target, I saw that I would be shooting a turkey to start my day. Being dark, I knew it was going to be really difficult to see, but I've always done well on turkeys, so I didn't worry too much about it. 

  When I drew my bow, I couldn't see that well, but I chose to keep pulling and see what happened. When the shot fired, I had not idea where the arrow landed. Then, I saw it... and it wasn't good. It was high and right, well above the core. That definitely wasn't the start I was hoping for, but I let it go and moved on. I had 19 targets to get it back. I knew I could do it. 

  The next target was a long, uphill antelope. I led it off and made the best shot I could make. Unfortunately, my bow wasn't holding well for the second day in a row, and I knew it was going to be a struggle once again. I had to figure out how I could navigate the day and limit the damage. I was shaking like a dog shitting razor blades on the first two shots, just like I had done the entire day before. 

  As we picked our way through the next few targets, I tried to ignore the rapid movement in my sight picture. I seemed to get through it, but it was unnerving at times. After making a great shot at a relatively close mule deer across a swamp, I felt good about the direction I was headed. Although my hold could make a person dizzy, my shots were pretty smooth. 

  When we arrived at the next station, we had to wait for the group in front of us to shoot the target. It was a wolverine at the top of a gut, and we were shooting it from a stake that was set on a side hill where there was no good footing. My first glance at the target didn't give me any special feelings, but I did notice the size of the target didn't remotely resemble what I was seeing on the ground. Being a target judger, I knew it was between 40 and 45 and thought it was about right in the middle. Totally ignoring that important part of the process, I set my sight and waited after the other group cleared out. They had arrows all over it, and one shooter's arrow was in the dirt behind it. He missed it on the low side. 

  I felt confident when I drew the bow. However, when the target appeared in my lens, I knew I had picked the wrong number. The image didn't correspond to the number I had picked. It corresponded to what the target looked like when I ignored it.  Ignoring that too, I tried making the best shot I could with my heals going down the hill. A few seconds into the shot, the pin began having a mind of its own and the unsteadiness I had experienced all weekend took over. Seconds later, I was looking at my bright orange vanes sticking out of the dirt between the wolverine's legs. I had missed it low. It was a combination of a bad number and weak shot. Thirty-seven yards didn't get me there. Tony shot it for 42 and got an 11. 

  Stepping off the stake, I had a talk with myself and realized I had 14 targets left for the day. I was 14 down with a miss and a five. I researched my memory to see if I could find a bit of data from the past that would help me understand I could dig myself out of the hole I had created. Then, I remembered a time when I shot a 5 on the first target on the second day of the World and went on to hit eight of my last 10 targets for 11s. I knew I had the ability and decided I would give it everything I had. 

  I quickly got back on track, as I shot an 11 on the next target and barely missed the next one. A few targets later, I was staring at a bomb of a gator. It stuck out to me as being 50 yards, and there was no doubt in my mind. It was across a ravine and on the side of a hill. Having 11d the previous target, a black bear, I felt good about the streak I was experiencing. 

  The pin continued dancing when I tried settling on the gator. Luckily, the shot broke when it was dancing like a drunken chick at a sorority party. I hung a 10 and breathed a sigh of relief. As I moved through the rest of the course, I remained stable and did the best I could to limit anymore damage. Finally, when the curtain was closed on the final leg of the National Triple Crown, I walked off the course knowing I saved a total disaster. The end result was not what I had hoped for, and it was not what I had expected when I headed to the tournament a few days earlier. However, it happened, and I was glad to shut the door on it and begin working toward the next one. 

                                                                                 My Final Thoughts

  

  Although this may sound arrogant, I felt like I had a good chance to win this event when we hit the road and headed to Ohio. Everything had been falling into place, and I was confident with my yardage and my shot. I had 100% trust in every part of my game. If I didn't win, I knew I would definitely be in the hunt. 

  However, when I arrived at the event, nothing seemed to fall into place. I had an extremely difficult time holding the bow and executing good shots. I felt distracted and my head seemed cloudy the entire time. It felt like a health issue, but it wasn't, so I'm not sure what it was that caused me to feel that way. It's something I haven't experienced at an event in a long time. It was difficult for me to focus or hold my attention on anything for any length of time. 

  This tournament taught me many things I can use in the future. I learned that I can persevere when I don't have my A-game. I felt like a pitcher who knows he doesn't have his good stuff, but he finds a way to get through five innings with minimal damage before leaving the rest of the game for the bullpen. I withstood the punches throughout both rounds and didn't let them affect me mentally. 

  I'm a target judger, and I saw the yardage on two targets I can recall and decided I wouldn't trust what my sight was telling me. Both times, I changed my number and convinced myself the targets were closer than they appeared. These were bad mistakes, and my inability to focus is what caused me to make them. I'm not sure if the focus problem was created by all the other things on my mind over the last month or if it just happened to be one of those weekends that all of us encounter every now and then. I made complacent errors that led to damage that I don't usually experience. 

  Normally, a performance like this one would eat me alive. This one hasn't done that. Instead, I look at all of the positives that came out of it, and I'll use them to improve at the next one. We are winding down quickly now, and there isn't much time left. I have chosen to shoot yet another bow at the ASA Classic in a few weeks. I'll be shooting my black Veracity 35. I'm holding less weight with it, and it allows me to be more relaxed at full draw. I experience far less pain in my shoulders while shooting this bow compared to the other two I've used for 3Ds this year. I"m not sure if going to less holding weight will help or hurt, but I guess I'll find out in a few weeks. I feel that I can aim the bow longer and still get a good shot off if the hold goes too long. I feel I can overarm it. I can also hold the bow steadier, and the groups seem to be a tad better than they are out of the other bows. 

  I'll keep giving it everything I have and see where I land when the dust settles. This year has been trying at best, but I feel I have what it takes. It's just a matter of having it come out at the right time. My confidence is high, and I have 100% confidence in my ability and my shot. That confidence has been growing by the day. 

  I almost forgot to mention that my team, Team Darton, won every leg of the National Triple Crown and the overall championship. My teammates are Bill McCall, Jeff Kirkland and Digger Cogar. I'd say we were definitely underdogs going into it, but we found a way to work together and bail each other out to win the title. My teammates did more bailing than me, but we all had a part in it. I'll write more about this after we get our awards at the IBO World Championship. 

  I also had a great time with my group on the way home. I taught Tony Tazza, Loren Lohr and Jim Livak a few things that they had never heard in the past. Tony was so intrigued about the lessons he learned, he sent me a text to tell me he stopped at Sheets on the way home to grab a few hotdogs for dinner and shared them with his buddies. He didn't say  if he made Brad go first, though. I'll have to ask him at the next one. 

  Shoot straight and have fun out there. We are headed down the homestretch not, and this is when you want to peak. Keep grinding and putting the work in. 

          

                                                                     

The Man from Massachusetts

Circa early 2000s

            Dad and I pulled into the parking lot and let the flagman wave us into a spot. There were a few archers putting their bows together and preparing for the day to come. After getting our stuff ready, we began the walk past the outdoor target archery range to get to the tent at the dreaded field course behind the Anheuser Busch plant in Merrimack, N.H.  I had shot that course many in the past, and it was usually the course that separated the pack. It had mowed paths in it, with the grass reaching hip height in many places. The wind that whipped through the field often wreaked havoc on shooters. Then, the targets that were set off the steep bank along the river could make a seasoned veteran beg for mercy. All I had to do is get through this course, and I knew I would have a chance at winning. However, times I also needed to get it done quickly because I had qualified for the elimination matches in the target archery portion of the National Archery Festival, and I needed to be at the target assignment by noon. I would be facing one of the region’s good target archers, James Priest. 

    Walking past the large targets with yellow bullseyes that were laid out across the soccer field, I reached into my imagination and saw myself standing on the line shooting perfect shots in my elimination match. Although I would be a lower seed, I saw myself running the table. 

  A few minutes later, my mind came back to the task at hand. The sky was gray, and the light drizzle made the walk to the field course miserable. Once there, we realized we would have to wait for someone to arrive to fill our group.

  Finally, I spotted a man making his way toward the tent. He appeared to be about 60 years old, and I found it odd that he didn’t have anyone with him. When he got to us, the thick New England accent alerted me to the fact that he was probably from someplace near Boston. He said he was happy when he “sawr” guys standing at the tent because he knew he would be able to finish the course. 

  As we walked about 30 yards to the side of the tent, the rain picked up and turned into a steady stream. When I drew the bow, my sight picture was a little unsteady, and the precipitation made my release a tad slippery. When the shot broke, the arrow found its mark, but it took everything I had to stay in the 10-ring. 

  Upon getting to the target to score the arrows, this man wanted to know who was going to write and who was going to score and pull arrows. I was already annoyed for some reason, and my initial impression was neither good nor bad. I just didn’t feel like shooting with the guy. Listening to him talk and having to deal with the fact that he didn’t know anything about 3D archery, I was annoyed before we even got going. It didn’t help, when he wanted to give his take on how to call arrows on the first target, trying to say an arrow that wasn’t inside out in the 10—ring was an 8. 

  “Uh, no it’s not,” I informed him. 

  We braved the rain and zigzagged through the field. About two hours later, we had finished, and I knew I probably would be sitting in the top 3 at the end of the event. We exchanged pleasantries (and contact info.) with the man and headed to the target range for my elimination match. 

   Many years have passed since the day we met the man with the heavy Boston accent. We shared a few dinners at national IBO events over the next 10 years, but, eventually, this man found his calling when he began shooting in the regional and national senior games. He would call for advice from time to time, and he and his wife would come to visit my mom and dad. He treated us like we were godlike beings. He always mentioned how he liked my attire at the national IBO events. I used to wear a T-shirt and holey jeans. The holes in my pants were from where I constantly rested the bottom on the top of my leg.

   I used to love walking to the first target looking like I was a homeless person. Then, at the end of the rounds, people would be amazed at the outcome. I enjoyed every second of it. If shooter shirts weren’t required in pro classes to collect contingencies, I’d still do the same. I think that attire speaks more about my actual personality: I’m an educated redneck. 

  Last year, I attended my first National Senior Games, which was held in Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. We made plans to go to it with this man and his wife. Our hotel was in the same parking lot as a Cracker Barrel restaurant, so we ate there a few times over the course of our stay. 

  After the first day of the event, the man found out he would be on the first bale the next day. We all know what it means to be on bale 1 the second day… it means you’re at the top of the pack and have a chance to win. He had a chance to become a national champion. We discussed his first-day performance, and I gave him just a few words of advice. Although he was in the 80-84 bracket, I was able to give him advice. It felt good to give back, especially to a long-time friend. 

  He would go on to win the event, and I was ecstatic about it. I think many of us enjoy rooting for our friends as much as we enjoy winning. I’m one of those people. 

  After the win, the man called me to ask some questions about his equipment. That’s when I recommended that he see Al at X-Spot Archery. I knew Al would take good care of him and possibly bring him to another level. 

  Before long, a great relationship was formed, and Al got him on the right track and ready to defend his title in Pittsburgh this year at the National Senior Games. The man showed up with a new attitude, some new arrows, and a well-tuned bow, even though he had some stuff taped together on it. 

  When the dust settled, the man was a National Champion yet again. He had defended his title, and he made sure to put on his X-Spot sweatshirt for the awards ceremony. This man is my friend. His name is Leon Sepuka. 

  He is (and always has been) grateful for any help given, and he always gives back in his own way. He’s a friend who would do anything for you because he values you in his life. 

  I’m thankful for Leon’s friendship over the years, and I’m proud of where he has come from what he was when I met him. Not many people can keep moving forward to get to the top of the mountain. The journey has been amazing to watch from afar. Now, all these years later, I feel like I might need to ask him about a few things to help me get over the hump again. 

  Having friends like Leon is what keeps me coming back to archery tournaments. We share the same passion, and we all have our own goals that we constantly work to achieve. I’ve made friends from all over the world, and they come in all shapes, sizes, races, and ages. I’m thankful for every one of them, as they have all contributed to the success I’ve achieved over the years. Getting Leon hooked up with X-Spot archery was a game-changer, and I’m glad Al willingly went out of his way to help my friend, especially since I live over four hours from the shop. Al welcomed him in and quickly rectified some issues on his bow and got him pointed in the right direction. Al has also helped me immensely this year by taking a chance of some new products and putting them in his shop. I’ve always believed good people find good people, and one hand will always wash the other. This is way supporting your local shops is so important. I’ve seen many shop shooters over the years, but the shooters who represent X-Spot Archery are second to none. Al knew what he was doing when he decided whom he wanted to wear his colors.

  I encourage all of you to take time to sit back and reflect on all the people you’ve met in archery. Who is your Leon?

   I’m sure some fantastic memories will resurface. Some of my archery friends are no longer with us, and others I see on a regular basis. We are all archers, and we all love releasing arrows and seeing them soar through the air. The flight of the arrow has taken me into a fairy-tale land that I never could’ve imagined when I began traveling to test my skills against others, and I’ve always been glad to share the magical land with all others who have fallen into it. We are all 

National Senior Games

  My dad introduced me to the Senior Games, and I've tried attending a few events with him from time to time because that is what he thoroughly enjoys. While I'm not a big fan of that style of archery, I know it can help me with my 3D shooting. It teaches me a lot about myself and how to shoot when I'm tired, as well as how to battle through windy conditions and tense ends from time to time. 

  So back in the late winter, I signed up for the National Senior Games in Pittsburgh and decided I would go with him. I also decided at that time that I would not put much effort into it, as I chose to shoot ASA events this year and figured my time would be better spent trying to figure out that game. I knew I'd probably pay the price for not putting much into it, but it was worth the risk. I ended up making arrows, getting marks on the bow and shooting one practice round for score. The bow didn't seem overly forgiving, but it worked well enough for my liking to not spend anymore time on it. I shot an 891 on the practice round and called it good. 

                                                                                        Practice Day

  Going into it, I knew I couldn't shoot many arrows. My shoulders are basically shot. They just can't handle many arrows anymore. I actually made people aware that I might bag it after the first day and call it good. I didn't want to mess them up any worse before the last 3D events of the year. So for the practice time, I decided to shoot arrows at each distance to make sure my marks were good. 

  I started at 50 and sprayed arrows all over. I wasn't too happy about that. Then, I moved to 60 and shot two ends, shooting a 60 and a 59, barely missing one arrow to the right. From there, I went to 40 and shot a golf-ball sized group, blowing up two pins. After that, I tried a few more arrows at 40 with a different release, and the group opened up a little. 

  Then, I followed my dad to the 60-yard bale and shot one more end. After shooting a perfect end, I packed my bow up, and we headed back to the motel. I felt ready for the event. 

                                                                     Day 1

  I shot a handheld release during the two practice ends then switched to a caliper for the first scoring end. The caliper did the trick on practice day, and I simply aim the bow better, shoot a more relaxed shot, and it allows me to shoot with far less tension in my hands than when I'm shooting a handheld. When I drew the bow for the first scoring arrow, everything felt rock solid. The bow sat down quickly and I executed a perfect shot. The arrow pierced the spider, and I was on my way. Six arrows later, I was staring at 59 on my scorecard. It's always nice to start a round with a solid score. Everything flowed into the second end without thought, and I nailed a 60. I was cursing, felt good, and knew my A-game was sitting in my quiver. My time had finally come. 

  When I drew my bow in the third end, my sight picture changed from the two previous ends. It got a little jittery, which made some tension surface. It wasn't anything I haven't dealt with in the past, but it was enough for me to notice the difference. I ignored the movement and focused on making good shots. 

  Well, when the round closed, I was staring at a 53 on the scorecard. I pulled the arrows and paid no attention to it. I know you always hit peaks and valleys in shooting, so I focused on my first two ends, which were basically flawless. I ended up finishing the last two ends as I started with the first two and got off 60 yards at 10 down. It was far below where I thought I should've been, but it wasn't too terribly bad. I figured if I could clean the rest, I would be in really good shape. Heck, even if I dropped one or two, I woulds till be sitting pretty. 

  As the round progressed, the wind picked up a little. Compared to most shooters, I shoot an incredibly light bow, so windy conditions make it difficult to hold the bow well. Although the wind didn't seem to affect my fellow competitors, it wreaked havoc on me. I began blowing arrows out the right side of the 10-ring on a regular basis. 

I made some great shots, but I began dropping points like they were for sale at a flea market. I wasn't able to limit the damage, and before I knew it, I was standing there looking at what could have been. I also ran into something in the second to last end that I'd like to share because if you shoot long enough, it's bound to happen. In the second to last end of the round, there was one arrow out of the 24 arrows in the bale that was out of the 10-ring. It was not my arrow. As the arrows were being scored, I wasn't paying attention, but I thought I heard the arrow caller say "five 10s and a 9 for 59," when he was calling arrows. Then, I heard him say the same thing on the last person's card. I knew that was impossible, but I never stopped him before the arrows began getting pulled. I lost the one point that I had actually earned. I shot a 60 on that end, but never questioned the call because I wasn't paying enough attention until after the fact. So always pay attention. There are too many arrows being called and shot for a person to never make mistakes. Mistakes will happen, but they can't be corrected once the arrows are pulled. Luckily, that one point didn't lead to anything, but it very well could've. That's a lesson everyone should take with them. 

  When I handed my card in and walked off the field, I was beyond pissed off. I had just handed in the lowest score I had ever shot on a 900 round... an 875. I was beside myself. How in the world could I have shot an 875, especially getting off from 60 at 10 down. I didn't pay much attention to it, but it still stung. After all, I hadn't put much into it, and it was the first time I had shot that bow anywhere other than in my backyard. Really, what should I have expected? It as also the first 900 round I had shot since the second round of last year's National Senior Games in Ft. Lauderdale, and that event was in May of last year. I basically got what I deserved. If you don't put the work in, you get what you put into it. 

                                                             Day 2

     Going into Day 2, I wasn't too happy about being on bale 2 knowing I should've been on bale 1. I sucked it up and knew I would have a good time. I was shooting with Greg McBride and Bryan McNeely, and I shot with both of them the previous day. Although they are both good guys, I hit it off with Greg, and we have many mutual friends. 

  As we started talking he asked me if I knew Shawn Couture. That's when I knew we were good. Anyone who thinks Shawn is a good dude and says great things about him is definitely a friend of mine. I've know Shawn since he was in the youth classes, and I've always enjoyed being around him and his wife, Wendy. I still see them as kids in the youth class... and damn... it seems like it was about 10 years ago. I feel fortunate to have grown up with people like them in New England and still be able to share some laughs with them now when I see them a few times a year. 

  As we began shooting, my day started off just like it did during the first round. I got off to a great start. Once again, I had one bad end at 60, but I put my foot on the gas and held my own. My shot got a little choppy on my first arrow at 50, but I straightened that out quickly. I stopped and relaxed after firing the first arrow. I told myself to shoot my shot like I shoot it in the backyard and to stop being hesitant. I began talking myself through every shot, and every shot became powerful and relaxed. I rolled the next three ends, cleaning all of them and stacking up the Xs. 

  When I drew my bow in the fourth end at 50, I couldn't figure out when the sight picture was nothing like it had been. It was bouncing all over, and I couldn't get my shot to break cleanly. Within a few minutes I had sent four arrows into the 9 ring and couldn't explain how they got there. Walking to the target, I found the problem. When pulling arrows I was taking my release off and putting it in my pouch. I never looked when I reached in and grabbed it to put it on that end. Well, I had on my spare release, which is a little longer than the one I had been using. It caused my shot to become erratic, and it was all my own fault. I lost my focus and let my concentration go to an area it never should've gone. After that end, I went back to what I had been doing and cleaned the next round at 50. 

  When the round ended, I walked off with an 885. I was back to a score that I could live with. Although it wasn't one of my best, I can deal with an 885. I would've liked for it to be better, but once again, I was learning the bow over the course of the two rounds and trying to figure out the things you can't figure out in your yard while practicing. 

                                                                      My Take on the Weekend

  I had a much better time than I had anticipated. My mom was supposed to go with us, but due to her recent battles she has faced, she was unable to go. Instead, she spent time with my sister at home and cheered us on from afar. I always appreciate my mother's kindness and words of encouragement when she watches from home. I wish she was still well enough to go with us, but I know that she is always with me when I'm grinding through the round. 

  Meeting Greg this weekend was a treat. I really enjoy shooting with some people, and I enjoyed standing side by side with him and shooting. I respect people who have been there and done that. This dude is the real deal and can flat-out pound. When you are always in the hunt in everything you have ever shot, that says a lot about your shot and your mental game. I learn a lot from these people and find it easy to relate to them. Greg's buddy Kevin Barto was shooting his first National Senior Games event too. Kevin is a 3D shooter, and he's a great guy too. I look forward to seeing him at the few IBOs that are left this year. He's working on his numbers and improving along the way. I wish him success, as 3D can challenge anyone on any day. Some days the targets look 20 yards and some days they look 40. I know this style of shooting has always helped me in 3D, and that is why I do it. It's a necessary evil for me. I don't like it, but I know it makes me better. I have no problem executing one great shot at every station on a 3D course. This game has helped immensely with that. 

                                                           Greg's unique bow sling: Miller Time

  My buddy Leon Sepuka from Massachusetts impressed me at this event. He will get his own column space in the coming days, so you'll all have to revisit the blog to read about my thoughts on Leon. The Mainiacs did it once again, with a few of them bringing medals home. They always get it done, with Dana Cyr leading the way and repeating as gold medalist. New England has always produced great shooters, and this is what makes so many others do well in our region. There are always people to chase and look up to. It brings everyone's game up. 

  I got to shoot with Dave Ferrie on day 1 and right next to him on day 2. Dave is a fellow Darton shooter, and he and his wife are great people. They enjoyed themselves and even visited a local archery shop to use up some of their spare time. Dave, being a knowledgable guy, tried helping a woman who was having bow problems on practice day. It's always nice to see others reach out to help less fortunate people, and that's exactly what Dave did without being asked. I enjoyed his company all weekend, and we had a great time. I look forward to possibly shooting with him again in New England if our schedules ever match up. I apologize if I whined too much for ya Dave. I had my moments of frustration to contend with along the way, and sometimes I don't realize I should probably shut up. My apologies if I carried on for too long about anything. 

  I felt bad for Dad at this event. This is what he is good at, and he has been practicing really well. He didn't shoot well at the tournament. He used to always be at the top, and after getting sick a few years ago, the road back has been choppy at best. Well, we believed he was finally there, and I think he probably put a little too much pressure on himself to shoot his practice scores in the tournament. He tried too hard and went in with expectations. Expectations and trying too hard can deteriorate the very best in the game. However, you have to learn to move on from your defeats and take whatever positives you can out of the events that transpired. That's the only way you will ever overcome the bad moments and not revisit them. Revisiting them will only increase the odds of them happening again. 

  And what do I take out of my performance? Well, I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't disappointed. Last year, I broke a record at this event that had stood for 10 years, then had my record broke in the next end. In the Senior Games they keep track of the top 10 scores ever shot in each bracket. After this event, I now have two of the best 10 scores ever shot in my age bracket. I will not have another chance to add to that, as I will be in the next age bracket if I shoot at the next National Senior Games. I'm sure I'll eventually fall out of the top 10, but I'm currently in there two times, and I know many people who would kill to be able to say that. My father was in third for a long time in the 60-64 age bracket I believe, but he has gradually fallen lower and lower, with the scores this year possibly finally dropping him out of the top 10. He had the 6th best score ever shot the last time I checked. I'll take that with me. Looking back on it, I wish my shoulder was in better shape to have been able to practice a lot, but it is what it is. It's called aging. 

  I"m headed to the last leg of the IBO National Triple Crown this weekend. I'm currently in 3rd place overall. I'll give it my best and see where it all shakes out.