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.
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.
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