First Leg of Northeast ASA Championship Series

 

  There have been very few times in my life when I've woken to my alarm in the morning and had no interest in getting up and attending an archery tournament. However, today may have been the first time I've encountered the problem. I got no more than a few hours of sleep last night, but I've often shot with little to no rest. 

  When the alarm sounded, I crawled out of bed and just looked in the mirror... lost. With mind racing and feeling a little anger mixed with an incredible amount of what will be never-ending, unanswered questions, I slid my socks on and slowly threaded my belt from one loop to the next until I had circled my midsection and securely snugged in around my waist. Broken, I tried wrapping my lips with a smile. I never accomplished that over the course of the next three hours. Instead, I sat behind the wheel of Dad's truck and stared out the windshield as my hands lightly gripped the steering wheel and helped me guide the truck to Connecticut. I would try my best to bury a lot of conflicting thoughts, anger, and unanswered questions... and guilt. 

  After getting out of the truck and going inside to sign up, I paid my money and registered as a walk-on. Since professional classes aren't part of federation shoots, I just decided to register as a walk-on since that's what I'm considered at these shoots according to the way the ASA's Federation shoots work. 

  Halfway through the room after paying for the shoot, I saw Joe Santos sitting at a table. I stopped for a moment to share pleasantries. Joe is one of the most accomplished shooters to come out of New

England, and I've known him for just about 30 years. We have a deep, mutual respect for each other's accomplishments behind the bow.

  As we began talking, some moments for deep thought were brought up. We talked briefly about the past, and Joe said something to me that hit hard, like a boxer taking the best punch the other fighter had to give. However, the punch wasn't thrown as a knock-out blow. Instead, it was thrown as a dose of reality. Joe said, "No matter what, we have to remember how incredibly luck we both are to be here today. We've been able to do everything we've wanted to do, and we can still do it today, even if we don't do it as well." He would go on to talk about how thankful I should be about still being able to do what I love with my dad. From there, the conversation turned into Joe telling me to cherish all the moments I've had on the trail due to the fact that I've been able to accomplish many of my goals, some goals that others would kill to accomplish. Since Joe is such a great shooter, I value his opinion. 

  When I put my head down to walk away, a tear rolled from my left eye and found its way onto my cheek. Hurriedly, I wiped it from my face and put a smile on before talking to the Lawheads while they waited for the bathroom to open. I love John and his daughter. They are great people, and I feel fortunate to have met them in my travels and continuously receive their support, even on my worst days. They are true friends and a wonderful support staff. 

    Finally, after making it to the target butt, I shot nine arrows. Not one shot felt good,and the sight picture was atrocious, but all the arrows landed in the X-ring. I knew it was going to be a battle throughout the day. Without good rest and a clear mind, I would have to do everything I could to remain focused throughout the day. 

            

                                                                      Our First Half

  I was lucky enough to shoot with some of my favorite people, including Wags, Barry Gates and Jason Kennedy. Although I knew we would have fun, my mind wasn't in the arena with all of the other gladiators. Instead of readying myself for what the emperor would turn loose, I battled my own demons that were racing through my mind, then slowing down and hammering spikes into my brain. 

  Drawing the bow on our first target, a grazing doe, the pin bobbed from back to belly a few times before the bow eventually fired, sending the arrow a tad to the left of the upper 12 for an 8. Thoughts in my mind had become things, and the things were doing jumping jacks at warp speed. I simply couldn't harness them, even among my closest friends who were all laughing, cracking jokes and having fun. 

  When I got to our second target, an antelope, I changed releases, made an average shot and barely missed the 12 for a 10.. and those two targets would spell out my day. Throughout the first half, I shot a few more 8s, and never missed the 12 by more than an inch on any of them... all for 8s. While my shot was somewhat sloppy, I stayed with the aim and executed well enough to stay all over the 12s but not getting lucky enough to anchor any of them onto my scorecard. 

  When the first half ended, I was satisfied with my shooting but really disappointed with the score. I guess it just shows you that many times your score isn't truly reflective of how you shot the bow. My mind never found its way to a quiet place during the first half, and I got off with only one 12. However, if I had a half inch on  a ruler, I would've gotten eight of them. That is the difference between a giant score and one that makes many archers scratch their heads. So I walked off the first half and hoped for a little change of luck on the second half. 

                                                                          Second Half

    We never stopped between halves and continued to the tree stand to begin our last half. Amazingly, nobody in our group shot a higher scoring arrow than an 8. The wind was hammering through the opening at that point, and we drifted to the right. We also had a few misjudges among us too. 

  

  The next shot, a long mule deer, might've been my best shot of the day. The pin sat for  half a second before the release fired and the arrow appeared at the top of the 11, barely missing the 12... again. This would be the theme on this half too. I missed the turkey by less than an inch out the top for another 8. I made a perfect shot and didn't get lucky. They say you make your own luck, but I wasn't making much on this day. 

  While I found a way to navigate through the second half and execute decent shots, I also lost my focus, or better yet, never reached any type of focused mind. Nearing the end, I sat on my stool and waited for Wags to shoot an uphill hill-country deer. When his bow fired, I knew the target was between 40 and 45. I could hear it as clearly as day but never paid attention to it. Therefore, I looked at the target, dialed my sight to 38 and shot my arrow. The arrow hit the target in the belly and I walked away in a fog. My mind was still drifting in and out of thought and had no real direction. I was still living in reality, even though I hoped with everything I had that I was still sleeping and would wake up from the imaginary, dreamlike world in which I had become consumed during the previous night. 

  When I got to the second to last target of the day, a downhill blesbok, I had to lead it. The number stuck out to me, and I went into pilot mode. I reached full draw, got the pin to where I needed it, began executing, and the arrow cut loose from the string. It appeared behind my pin, and I turned and sat down on 

my stool. It took me 29 shots, but I had finally shot one arrow with a quiet mind. It was effortless. 

  After putting an arrow in the 10-ring on the black panther to end my day, I gathered my stuff, slung my stool over my shoulder and trudged off the range. Unlike normal days, I stayed to myself and walked to the truck to put my stuff away. I thought about things from the past. I thought about times I had been less than a good friend to certain people, and I thought about all the people I sometimes take for granted. Then, I reconsidered what Joe Santos had said to me a few hours earlier, and I was thankful that I got to spend time with my friends whom I don't get to see too often. 

 A day with some of my favorite people. I cherish these guys. 

I heard this guy was looking in the barn for his arrow from a few years ago. 

                                                                            Final Thoughts

  Today was not about going to an archery tournament and trying to shoot well. Today was about navigating life and trying to understand something that I will never be able to understand. Why do some things happen? Why is life so unfair? Why do so many not-so-nice people get multiple free passes when truly genuine, nice, caring people must pay the piper? 

  Many of you most likely know that I lost my job of 33 years last March. After that happened, I have not kept in touch with many people from my former workplace. I do know that I'm not proud of that. However, I also will never forget the ones from work who have continued making sure I was OK and showed interest in my life and where it had gone and where it was going. One of those people is a girl who was in my department for a long time. She was about 10 years younger than me, and I always felt like she was a little sister. I tried giving her good advice when she asked, and I always listened when she wanted to talk about her life. She was close to her mom and dad, and she always told me stories about her father's hunting escapades. She was truly proud of her parents, and I could tell that her parents did a wonderful job raising her. She sat next to me for a while, then a few rows over from me. We would work on the same projects together, and I would assign her work to edit when I needed help. She was kind, compassionate, funny... and genuine. She was everything a little sister should be, even if she wasn't my little sister. 

  Well, last evening, out of nowhere, I was notified that she had died in a head-on collision when someone came across the divider and hit her. She was brought to the hospital, where when would later be pronounced dead.It shocked me, like I knew it couldn't be true. However, after a few more people sent me messages, I learned that it was true. It was not a nightmare; it was reality. 

  I apologize to anyone with whom I spoke today if I seemed off, distant or just lost in thought. Joe Santos said it best today, "You can't take anything for granted. Just be thankful."  I'll be the first to tell you that I have failed at this throughout my life. 

  I do have some guilt surrounding this. Keri was such an incredibly caring person. Instead of taking her severance and taking time getting back to work like I did, she decided to jump right back into the workforce.

I will never forget the last time I saw her, as I pulled up to the gas pump at Cumberland Farms on the opposite side of where I could see her standing, and she was pumping gas. When I got out, I stood behind the pump so she couldn't see me and made a smart-ass comment about short people. She started laughing and didn't miss a beat and gave it right back to me. I figured she might not know who said it.  We got to share a few minutes of laughter before we both headed in our own direction. Then a few weeks ago, she called me to check on me. I wanted to tell her that I had landed a new job, so we talked about other stuff for a few minutes. Then, my phone rang and it was a call I had to take. I told her I would call her back, if not that day, the next day. I never called her back, and that was the last time I would ever hear her talk. I will miss her kindness and her caring nature. I found this picture of her on her Facebook profile, and I don't think anything could sum her up better than this. I'll do my best to carry on her legacy in the future. My friend Keri Pike. 

  I had a great day with my friends today, even if my mind was elsewhere. I appreciated every minute of their presence, even if my presence was miles and miles away in some other world. I appreciated the brief conversation with Joe, because I needed what he said when he said it. Was he sent to me at the perfect time? It's odd how things like that happen. 

  The only thing I'd like to say is that I don't want the comment section filled out with the "I'm sorry for your loss, Todd." If anything, I was lucky to have been able to work side by side with such a great co-worker who also cared deeply about my well being and all the other people around her. I was no different than any other person whom she encountered. She treated everyone the same. Anyone who was blessed with her friendship is truly better for it now. 

  I hope all of you had a good tournament, and I encourage all of you to truly value the people in your lives, no matter how big or small of a part they play. One day, those people will be gone. It may take years, but it might just happen in the snap of a finger. 

  This week is Wags' annual cancer visit to make sure he is clear. I will be thinking of him and praying with all my might that his road remains clear of any debris. He's one of my people, and I'm glad he has played such a big part of my life. I'm thankful for him and his place in it, as well as the place in my life many of you who are reading this have taken. In case I've never told any of you, I appreciate all of you. 

  

  

 

1st Leg of the IBO Northeast Triple Crown

 

  Looking at the forecast last week, I didn't know what to expect for the First Leg of the IBO Northeast Triple Crown. I figured we would get a lot of people, but sub-par weather tends to weed out the die-hards from the weekend warriors. In the end, everything worked out, as Saturday was a raw, monsoon-like day that made shooting incredibly difficult, and Sunday saw the weather move to the east. 

                                                                        Saturday

  When morning broke, I knew it was going to be a long, miserable day. After speaking with Jacob the night prior, we made plans to meet around 8:30 in an attempt to brave the weather and shoot. Whether that was a smart thing or not, we were going to do it. 

  A few other die-hards from the north country showed up on Saturday morning, including Jay Spencer, John Freeman and Rick Baker. It made me feel better knowing they weren't the only ones who would be at a big disadvantage compared to the Sunday shooters. 

  We were one of the last groups on the course on Saturday morning, and Jacob and I found ourselves with two newbies to the IBO scene. We shot with Rusty Hall and Kyle Dellavalle, who made their way down from the Lake Placid area. 

  While Jacob and I shot a few arrows to get warmed up before going out, Kyle suddenly realized he was shooting with one of the best shooters in the world and exclaimed "Jacob Slusarz" when Jacob was at full draw. After a few laughs, we headed toward our first target of the day, a caribou on the edge of a pond. 

  Shooting a bow that I haven't had for more than a week, it felt a little different when I hit full draw. It suddenly felt loose and sloppy, but I managed to get through the shot and put my arrow in the 10-ring. However, it wasn't a feeling that I wanted to become accustomed to dealing with. It probably didn't help matters that the target was max distance right out of the gate and the heavens were letting loose on us with a wrath that Sunday's shooters would not see. 

  Moving to the second target, we saw an alligator lying in some mud across the water. It's always difficult to judge distance across water, and when a gator is sitting on the other side, it can bring up the fear factor for many shooters. 

  After looking at it closely, I dialed my sight and felt pretty confident with my number. Although it didn't appear to have much yardage on it, I also know there's no room to be short on your guess, as there's only about 2 inches below the 10 ring before you're in the dirt. There's also not much forgiveness on the top side, so I tend to try to favor the high side versus the low side when calculating my number. 

  When I drew the bow, my hold was long. I decided to let down and start over. It was a good choice, as my arrow found its way to the 10-ring after making the choice. We were on our way. It always takes a few shots to get somewhat comfortable, especially in poor weather conditions. 

  Moving toward the third target, we spotted the dreaded grazing doe. Instantly, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. After all, I hadn't been holding well or executing well, and I figured the close target would help me out. Unfortunately, the trend continued, and my shot felt loose and sloppy, but the arrow found its mark. 

The grazer was a good set and made it difficult to judge. It was set so the legs couldn't be seen, so you couldn't tell how far beyond the hill it was set. 

  Hoping to get into a groove and feel better about my shots, we continued down the path and turned into the woods. There, we spotted the standing grizzly, which was set between a group of three trees. It was hard to determine where it was located among the trees, so I relied on depth perception and dialed my sight. It was the first target of the day in which I was doing everything I could to stay in the 10-ring. I wasn't overly confident with the number, so I took the average of my three guesses. Instead of favoring the high guess, I stuck it in the middle. The arrow pierced through the 10 line at 6 o'clock. I felt lucky to walk away with 10 points. While I didn't make a bad shot, the number almost got me. 

  Still not feeling one with the bow, I marched down the path to a long black bear in a swamp. My hands were numb from the raw, damp weather, and I couldn't feel my hands on the release, especially my thumb on the button. I was able to make a decent shot on the critter and kept moving along. 

  The next target appeared to be a medium deer, but something looked a little off on it. It was the large Big 10 with the medium alert deer's antlers on its head... a nifty little trick. Luckily, it didn't get any of us and we were able to walk away with a pocketful of good scores. 

  The next target was a long stone sheep on a slight uphill grade. Something about the shot didn't feel good from the start. It may have been from the weather wreaking havoc. I'm not really sure what caused the distraction, but I paid the piper.

  When my hold got long and I couldn't really feel the trigger, my brain said, "Let Down," but my conscious mind said, "You can do it. You'll be OK."

  Once the conscious mind gets involved in a situation like that, it's usually not going to end well... and it didn't. Not being all that familiar with the bow, it began to creep and I tried to save it. I lost control and it fired. The arrow struck the sheep in front of the kill zone and high. I got extremely lucky to walk away with five points. I didn't deserve five points, but sometimes good form can save you during dire circumstances. 

   We were able to make our way through the last few targets of the course and ended on a slightly uphill elk. I was lucky enough to make one of my best shots of the round and walk away with an 11. Although the stone sheep bothered me, I walked away feeling good about the bow's debut and how I executed my shots with a button. 

 

                                                                        Second Half

  Moving to the second course, which was made up of 20 targets, the wind picked up and the rain, snow and freezing rain continued unleashing their fury on us. We had become accustomed to the weather by this point, but it still didn't make it any easier to shoot. 

  The first target, a fallow deer, was set off a berm and had a lot of open air between it and the stake. Being a target judger, the distance stuck out to me, and I made a great shot. The clubhouse and rifle-range shooting benches protected this target from the wind. 

  As we made our way toward the second target, I knew it was going to be tough. I'm shooting light poundage (low 50s), and my arrow weighs 290 grains. That setup doesn't lend well to succeeding in any wind, especially a right-to-left wind when the target is near max distance. 

  I made a decent shot on the antelope, but my arrow drifted out the left side of the 10-ring. Not knowing what the wind drift would do, I walked away and felt good about my shot. Although I had the recent memory swirling around inside my head, I didn't give it much attention when I drew my bow on the next target, a boar that was much closer than the antelope. 

  I did the best I could with the wind and decided my arrow would be fine. Well, I made the wrong choice and the arrow once again drifted to the left and found its mark outside the 10-ring. Pulling the arrows and walking toward the next target, something didn't feel right. I had lost my hold, and the pin looked like a chicken on a hot rock. Looking at my blood monitor, I saw that my blood was around 60 and had one arrow going down, so I knew it was definitely below that. 

  After drinking some Gatorade and having a few pieces of hard candy, it corrected itself in the next 15 minutes but not before I shot another 8. After the last 8, my entire day turned around and my blood stayed level. 

  As we made our way through the 20 targets, my shot felt effortless on almost all of the targets. I also never shot an arrow more than an inch or two to the left or right. It was the best left/right day I've had in many years. Had I found my groove or was it just the fact that the more I shot the bow, I was getting used to it as we moved along? I'd say it was a little of both. 

  When we finally arrived at the last target of the day, the wind was whipping. Although the target, a javelina, was fairly close, I knew it would be a difficult shot. It was my turn to go first, and the wind seemed to be getting worse and worse as I stood there. It hadn't been that bad the entire day. 

  Trying to plan a good time to draw my bow, I made a few attempts but the sight went from nose to tail on each try. When I got to my last letdown, I knew it had to go or I would get a zero. However, the wind showed no mercy and the end result wasn't good... ending the day with a 5. The arrow struck forward and low. I guess I'm lucky I even hit the target with the battle I had against the wind to get it to go. 

                                                                    Final Thoughts

    Without much time -- or decent conditions -- to prepare for this event, I had no idea what to expect. I did shoot a really good round at the house with my buddy Ryan a few days before the shoot, and that gave me all the confidence I needed. 

  I spent the last month of indoor season doing everything I could to feel comfortable with a handheld release again. At times, it was grueling, but in the end, I felt like I had finally figured it out. I was able to shoot a few perfect scores, and I could easily identify my misses. I had to spend an exorbitant amount of time making small changes to my process to ensure I avoided things that created issues in the past, and I feel extremely confident about the progress I've made. As more time is put in, I'm looking forward to seeing more progress. 

  Sometimes when we shoot with good/great shooters we don't listen because they're our friends. I've always valued Jacob's opinion on others and me. When he told me to go back to low poundage and give it a whirl, I listened and looked forward to making the change. Up to this point, I feel positive about the change. I'd rather shoot a little slower and miss smaller than crank my bow up and shoot faster and miss by more. I'm glad Jacob offered his opinion and I listened. It has seemed to have made shooting a little easier.

  We had the opportunity to shoot with Kyle and Rusty on Saturday. It felt good to explain a lot about the IBO and how tournaments work. Since it was their introduction to the IBO, we tried our best to show them a good time and help them understand the rules. I can't speak for either of them, but I think they had a good time. I'd also say it was pretty cool for them to shoot with one of the best pros in the world too. We had a great time and made a couple of new friends. Rusty and Kyle are looking to promote the IBO in their area. I'd highly recommend supporting them. Take the family to Lake Placid for the day, shoot some targets and explore everything the area has to offer, including the tremendous mountains, lakes, ponds and Olympic history. 

  This weekend also made me realize how fast life truly passes. Just a few years ago Jacob was a kid and his mom and dad were concerned about letting him travel with other people, which is totally understandable. Well, when I looked at Jacob this weekend, it was hard to believe that now he's a husband, father and homeowner. Time is fleeting. 

  When I looked through the pictures of the shoot, I saw pictures of Tom Thygesen, Wade Chandler, Doug Vaughn and my dad in the same group. It took me back to Jacob's age. I was fresh out of college and finding my way in competitive archery. In doing so, I researched all the good shooters and realized the guy in my home club to beat was Doug Vaughn, and the guy to beat on the 3D range and at IBOs was Wade Chandler. Wade qualified for the IBO at every shoot, and that was when qualifying was extremely difficult. He wore his collar up and thought he was the "sh*t." Although I didn't know him, I knew he was pretty cocky and had every right to be that way. Eventually, after setting him as my bar, I would meet Wade and become good friends with him. We would travel across the country shooting 3Ds, and we would win the Midwest Classic, first leg of the IBO National Triple Crown, as teammates. I've always appreciated Wade in my life because his excellence when I was Jacob's age gave me something to shoot at locally. If I could be like Wade, I could compete at the national level. He paved the way for me. 

  Then, looking at Doug, I can remember when I joined the indoor league and became friends with Doug. He shot a shiny, target-colored Hoyt and he was one of the only guys who could shoot a perfect score. I wanted to shoot a perfect score, too! I would become friends with Doug and travel to all of the IBO Northeast Triple Crown shoots in the early '90s with him. My desire to shoot like him indoors continued, and it led me to things I never imagined in indoor and outdoor target shooting. Without meeting Doug when I began my journey, I might've never known the true level of where I wanted to end up. He opened the door, showed me the way and offered a seat in his truck for me to travel with him and get better. I'll be forever thankful for those days in the early '90s, and I was happy to see Doug back at it this weekend.  Doug and Wade helped me get to where I am today, and they will team up with Tom Thygesen this year and form a team for the National Triple Crown. I'll be rooting for them along the way. Now that they are in their 60s, I still see them in their 30s when I was in my 20s... time passes too quickly. 

  On a final note, a few special IBO medallions were given out this weekend to people who have supported the IBO and show up when other things might be more important. They go out of their way to promote the shoots, the people and archery, so they were given commemorative medallions for their efforts. We appreciate their efforts and are thankful for their presence at our tournaments. Thank you to Sean Royster and Matt Boyden. 

    As we move forward from this event, please remember to bring a friend or two to the next one. My friend Ryan Perkins tried his hand at his first 3D event ever last weekend too. He signed up in SPM because he wanted to shoot from 50 yards, and his shooting is top-tier. Having shot with him on my own range, I knew he had the ability to do well, and I even thought he had a chance at winning if everything came together. He's a competitor. I figured the only thing that might prevent him from winning would be a lack of experience. 

  Just like Kyle and Rusty, Ryan had a great time and will be going to more events. With his shooting ability and mental toughness, I expect to see him at the top of the leaderboard at every shoot. After all, he hung pretty close to all the guys who have had great success in the SPM class at a national level the last few years... and he had absolutely no tournament experience. Watch out boys... he's going to gain ground and be in the mix. Hopefully, he goes to the national triple crown. I'd love to see him near the top and enjoy himself with all the newfound friends he has made the last two years at the few indoor shoots he has attended.

  As I sign out, I'll tell you I felt like the old me on Saturday. It was a great feeling. I can't wait to shoot in some decent weather when I can get a true representation of everything going on. Oh, in case I forgot to mention it, when you look at scores and see Jacob with a 310, just remember Jacob shot in a monsoon in which you couldn't feel your fingers, and he still shot the highest score of anyone who attended the tournament from any distance stake. It's such a pleasure to witness the greatness week in and week out. I hope he inspires young and old alike to continue their pursuit of excellence. 

Until next time.... rest up, have fun preparing, and go to the upcoming shoots to have a great time. The first regional ASA of the season is coming up in a few weeks with an IBO qualifier in Connecticut the following weekend. Let's get out there and support both organizations. Meanwhile, there's a new sheriff in town, and his name is Muddy Mike. If you know, you know. He here is.

Get some rest, young Witkowski. I think you're going to need it hanging around with this guy.

  I almost forgot. I'm as superstitious as they come, and I've felt like my luck has drained out of my three previous hats I've worn during successful moments in my archery career. Well, I've found a new one, and this hat -- and PLACE -- rock. Give them a look. For any of my peeps who come to the house, I'll probably throw something together for Saturday if you want to come up and give it a whirl. Just let me know. 

Adult/Youth Tournament

 

  Many years ago when Aron Stevenson was living in Plattsburgh, N.Y., a few hours north of his hometown, he became involved with his father in-law's shop, 3-Spot Archery, and they held a number of different events. One of the events that drew the most attention every year was the adult/youth tournament, which allowed kids to partner with adult figures, including their parents, older siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents or even a few of their idols who were not related. It was a time when scores simply didn't matter. Instead, it was the older generation and younger generation in one place sharing their passion for archery. 

  In recent times, after moving back to his hometown, Aron made an attempt to carry on the tradition and bring the adult/youth event to Hudson Falls Fish and Game Club. Although this year didn't have the attendance of last year, the event still brought archers of all ages to the event. All archers would shoot a 300 Vegas round, with the cubs shooting from 10-yards and other archers shooting from 20 yards. 

  To give some of the youngsters a little inspiration, local pros were invited to attend and mingle with parents and children alike in hopes of showing them they can strive to become professionals as they pursue the sport of archery. After all, archery isn't limited to athletic people. You don't have to be a superstar in sports, and you don't have to have an athletic build. All you have to do is want to shoot a bow, and the sky is the limit as to where you want to go. 

  I invited some local pros to show up for the kids, and they were all happy to attend. Even though the most sought after local pro, Jacob Slusarz, couldn't attend due to prior obligations, John Vozzy, Jon Scott and Jeff Wagoner arrived at the club around 8:30 a.m. shortly after the first line had begun. 

  Since we hadn't seen each other in a while, we caught up on things and enjoyed each other's company as the adults and young kids made their way through the round. With plenty of laughs and a few spirited debates, the time quickly ticked off the clock. Although we wanted everyone to have a good time, a few kids had frowns that we needed to turn upside down. We tried offering a little support and let them know that everyone misses. We can't get upset when we don't live up to our own expectations. The reason we shoot bows is because it allows us to have fun, so there's no reason to take it too seriously that it brings tears to our eyes. I'm not sure our advice hit home, but I realized I needed to listen to it myself. Too often, I get consumed with the frustrations that come along with shooting a bow, and it takes the fun out of archery. However, if I just go shoot for the love of seeing arrows glide through the air, it allows me to be calm at the center and feel as if I'm floating in the sky watching myself perform. 

  As the day came to a close, we allowed the kids to have a Q&A session, and some good questions were asked -- and answered. It felt good to answer questions for kids and parents who wanted to know more about what we did and how we went about doing it. While all of us ended up in a professional class, we all took different paths to get there. Some kids listened intently, and others seemed to have no interest at all. Either way, it was good to share a few hours with the future of our sport. 

  Being the last one out the door and packing my stuff up before leaving brought me to a place that has long been gone... my youth. It wasn't all that long ago when I walked into that club for the first time in my life. I was slightly older than the oldest children shooting in the tournament, and I had no idea that I would ever travel out of the community to shoot a bow in any type of tournament. Heck, I had gone to the club to join an indoor league so I could make sure I would stop missing so many deer during hunting season. Then, I became addicted to shooting my bow. 

  I've always resorted to the stick and string to calm my mind. I stood in my side yard for countless hours while cutting arrows loose from the string. I've formed a dirt path near every home where I've lived. I've journeyed back and forth on those paths like I had no idea what I was doing. Neighbors believed I was insane. A few of them asked me if I ever got sick of shooting my bow. I always politely smiled and said, "No. I love it. It calms my mind and allows me to be at peace."

  They would smile, laugh, shake their heads and continue walking. Eventually, they just glanced into the yard and never said a word. I was just a piece of the yard, just like the 100-year-old tree  extending its branches into the street. 

  For a few hours the other day, I was brought back to every stage of my life. I remember being 5 years old staring at the piece of land on the hill where my mom and dad told me they would be building a new house. Then, after the house was built, I would shoot in the backyard with a recurve. 

  Time would pass quickly and bring me into my teen years. I was introduced to a compound bow and found myself on the side hill every evening. The yearning for archery was truly born at that time. Navigating through my adolescent, I finally found my way into competitive archery when I went to college. 

  Four years later, I would return home, get married, buy a house and put an archery target in the yard. My love of archery grew, and at that point there was no looking back. I was all-in, and I began traveling across the country competing. The years have brought much pain to my hands, elbows and shoulders, but I continue doing what I love. The results have brought me into bottomless pits where no daylight could be seen. While in the darkness, I bit, clawed and battled to escape. Then, I got lucky enough to experience a few unimaginably stellar moments when I found a way to never give up and find a way to climb out of the pit. 

  When I turned the lights off in the range and closed the door on Sunday evening, I smiled. My journey behind the bow has been more than I ever could've imagined. 

Ft. Benning ASA: Is it Over?

 

  Two weeks prior to the second stop on the 2025 ASA Pro-Am, I had no intention to attend. Therefore, I didn't prepare for the event and never fired an arrow outside. Rather, the set-up I used in Foley the previous month was leaning against the wall collecting dust. 

  Then after a few text exchanges, against my better judgment, I decided to pack my bags once again and head south. Sometimes it's easier to go into something when you're facing the realism behind it. On this occasion, reality spoke to me, and I wasn't a fan of what it had to say. 

  It said, "What the hell are you thinking?"

  Taking a dive into the dark, cloudy chasms of my memory, I approached it knowing I still hold the ability to grind and give myself a shot, even when it seems all the odds are stacked against me. Believing in yourself is half the battle in this game called archery, and I don't have any problems with self-confidence. There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and I've always admired people who have self-confidence. I try to stick close to those people and avoid the arrogance that sometimes spews from others in the arena. 

                                                                    Travel Day

  The weather hasn't been the best in northern New York since the last ASA, so I've been plugging along indoors. I've spent the majority of my time working on shooting a handheld release again. In doing so, I took Jacob's advice to use low poundage again. Everything I've achieved in the archery world, whether it's indoor shooting, outdoor target archery or 3D archery, has been accomplished while using low poundage bows... no more than 55 pounds. However, the bow I brought with me, my Dominator Duo 38 with SE2 cams, was set at 63 pounds. Knowing this, I had to use a caliper release I've used since 2019. 

  We got off to an early start and found ourselves headed out of Atlanta airport shortly after noon. We figured we would stop at the shoot and get a little practice in before calling it a day. After shooting about 10 targets, I decided I would change my game plan for this ASA. Instead of shooting all uppers, I was going to shoot lowers due to the fact most of my arrows were hitting low. Instead of giving it much thought, I figured I wasn't used to the poundage, which contributed to the low arrows. Jacob, on the other hand, couldn't miss. I think he shot 10 12s of the 12 targets we shot and barely missed the other two. However, when we were done, a crack on his limb seemed to have gotten a little bit larger. Without a spare bow or being able to replace limbs, he wrapped the limb with electrical tape to keep the area where it had begun to splinter from getting worse. 

                                                                       Practice Day

  We took full advantage of the practice day. Suddenly, I was glad I had decided to attend the tournament. The bright sun and warm temperatures were a pleasant break from what we've been experiencing at home. It felt good to shoot in a t-shirt and enjoy the beautiful day. We were both ready for Day 1.

  After grabbing a bite to eat and heading back to the AirBnb, we clicked the TV on and watched "Wicked Tuna," the reality show about tuna fishing. It was entertaining and left us with a lot of questions. We even did some Googling to figure out some facts that had us guessing. 

                                                                          Day 1

  When I got to my stake the first day, I learned I would be shooting with Kerry Klund, Richard Teasley, Richard Owens and Johnny Pearlheath. However, when things got closer to starting, there was a mix-up with groups and there were five people in a few different groups. This required people to leave certain groups, my group being one of them. I volunteered to go to another group and found myself sharing a stake with Tony Tazza, Loren Lohr and Kevin Koch. I never could've asked for a better group. There's no better feeling than shooting with guys whom you can call friends in which there's mutual respect and admiration shared between everyone in the group. That always makes for a great day on the range, whether the results at the end of the day are good or bad. While there was nothing wrong with the original group, I definitely enjoyed where I ended up. 

  I got off to a good start. Although my hold wasn't the best on the first target of the day, it was good enough to stay in the 10-ring and barely miss the 12. By the time I got to my fifth target, I was feeling really good. The bow was holding steady and my shots were breaking cleanly. Everything felt on course for a good day. Although we were battling a little bit of sun, we were able to block most of it with Tony's umbrella. My pin would occasionally wash out, but I could see the end of it well enough to still have a solid aiming reference. 

  After five targets, I found myself on the leaderboard at +2 and knew I was headed toward a good day. Everything felt too good to be interrupted. When I got to the sixth target, I made a decent, but not great, shot at an impala (if I recall correctly). When the bow fired, I heard a distinct tinging noise and asked if anyone else heard it. Nobody heard it. The concerning part was that the arrow was on the outside of the 8-line looking in. While I had gotten an 8, it was barely an 8. I knew the shot was good enough that it shouldn't have landed where it did. Not totally trusting myself, I shrugged it off and moved to the next target.

  Staring at the leopard at the end of the lane, I knew I would play it safe and shoot for the center because I could clearly see a clover where I could hold my pin. I also knew 50 would do the trick. When I drew the bow and anchored, the pin locked on the top of the clover and the shot fired... effortlessly. In the split second that it fired, I said, "Yup," knowing I had just smoked the center of the 10-ring. Then, I never heard the arrow hit the target. Instead, it never touched a piece of foam and skidded to a stop on the back side of the leopard between the legs. 

  Knowing I had made a perfect shot, I told the guys I was going to the breakdown bale to check my marks. After getting it cleared with the range official, I scurried to the bag and quickly realized I had lost about four yards on my tape. I quickly moved my indicator and got back to the stake without missing a target. Not knowing what caused the issue, I progressed through the round and let it slip from my mind.

  I continued making good shots, but there were a handful of targets that I felt I should have pierced the 12-ring, two of which I called the upper and hit below it with the right number. When we finished the round, I was highly disappointed and found myself within reach of the leaderboard but well behind. I ended the day with a 190 after missing the target and getting an 8 on the one before the miss. I knew I could make up the ground, but I would need a really good day. Actually, everyone in the group shot well, but Kevin and I both missed the leopard. Tony and Loren were sitting in good shape going into Day 2. 

Near the end of the round, Tony pierced Kevin's arrow for a Robinhood. It was pretty cool that it stuck instead of ricocheting into never-never land. 

  After finishing the round, we grabbed a bite to eat and went back to our place. In the evening when we figured most people were gone, we headed back to the range to change the blade on my rest. The blade had cracked then settled into place for the rest of the round. The blade caused me to lose yardage on the sight, ultimately contributing to the low 8 and miss before I figured out something was wrong. While it probably wasn't perfect the rest of the day, it held up without breaking or causing any other mayhem like it did on the leopard. If there was a silver lining to the cloud, that was it. As soon as I shot the bow with the new blade on the rest, I gained back all of the yardage I had lost. It only took a few minutes to sight the bow in and call it a day. Jacob was sitting at +16. He had a pretty good day and was more than ready to press the gas pedal to the floor the next day. 

                                                                            Day 2

  The picture above sums up our trip for the weekend, especially Day 2. I'm not sure what happened on Day 2, and I'm not going to spend any time on it. I started off well and stayed that way for about nine targets. Then, things went off the tracks and I never recovered. Looking back on it, I have no idea what happened. I'm not sure if what the eye doctor had warned me about came to the forefront, or if I just didn't do well. My shooting didn't feel too terribly much different than it did on Day 1, other than a slightly unsteadier hold. 

  The only difference between Day 1 and Day 2 was the lighting. Day 1 was a bright, sunny day, but Day 2 was overcast. When the doctor told me I would need similar lighting conditions from start to finish to achieve my potential, maybe he was correct. Did the lighting conditions result in the sub-par performance on Day 2? I could say it did, but I'm taking ownership of it because I'm better than what turned out on the scorecard. I'm going to walk away from the weekend realizing I need to fix a few things, and I'm hoping that by returning to lower poundage setups that I'll return to competitive form. I've been lackluster on the trail the last two years, and I will try everything possible to return to where I know I've been and still want to be. I'm ready for the next challenge. There have been times in the last year in which I felt like I had no hope, but then again I've been climbing Everest in the process. I'll be the first to tell you that it's tough to climb the highest mountain in the world and survive while your mind is consumed with the stresses that come along with family, health, work and well-being. When exterior thoughts are roaming the wastelands inside your mind, you may not think they affect your performance, but I'm beginning to think that maybe they have a bigger impact than I can imagine. It just doesn't feel like that's the case, but when coach Mike Price says it's impossible to be anywhere near your best when you don't have 100% focus, I don't think I can debate with him about it anymore. 

  Jacob's Day 2 was heartbreaking. He had a chance to make a statement after the extracurricular happenings in Foley, but that cracked limb decided to rear its ugly head. When the devil is sitting on your shoulder and messing with your equipment, there's not much one can do to defend against it. Jacob did everything he could to bite, claw and hold on until the finish but came up just shy of where he needed to be. In the end, he succumbed to a dose of strictly bad luck and bad timing. 

  Watching the fight he put up while not being able to do what he's capable of doing was inspiring, and a lot can be gained from witnessing it. He never gave up, even though he knew he didn't have things working at 100%. Instead, he came up with a game plan to somehow not go backward. Once he got to +22, he did everything he could to get the few extra points he would need to get to the dance, but everything hit the wall on the final target of the tournament. 

  That's when we walked off the range together and realized that both of us got slapped square in the face with bad luck. If you shoot long enough, a few bad things are bound to happen from time to time. All you have to do is ask Glenn Meadows. He might have the worst streak of any of my peers in the last few years. If it can happen, it will happen to Glenn. I had a long streak of that in my career, but I'm hoping what happened last weekend was just a little dose of it that will not return.  

                                                                     Final Thoughts

  While I wasn't hoping for much at this tournament, I didn't figure the result would be nearly as bad as it ended up. I won't tell you I wasn't highly disappointed, especially after making pretty good shots and good decisions. I guess it just goes to show you that sometimes you're the bug and sometimes you're the windshield. No matter how hard we try or how badly we try to prevent bad things from happening, there is nobody who is immune to unfortunate incidents. At those times, the only thing that matters is how you respond. You can pack it in and disappear or you can never give up. I choose to never give up. 

  In recent times, I've wondered if  the Old Man has finally caught up to me as far as my archery career goes. I've questioned my ability to compete at the highest level. Although I still believe I can compete and be a regular in the top 10, the scoreboard has not reflected that. I've had multiple top 10s the last few years and a few IBO shootdown appearances, but things haven't been like they were about three years ago when everything seemed effortless to shoot good scores. There have been shoulder and back problems combined with the recent eye issues, and the daily stresses of life have been overwhelming. I'd like to be able to look into a crystal ball to tell if those things truly make a difference. I should probably listen to Coach when he says they make way more of a difference than I can fathom. I really don't know where I'm at right now. A good, long, hard look in the mirror has me thinking thoughts I haven't thought in a long time, and I do know that Father Time is undefeated. He defeats some people before others, but he eventually catches all of us. 

  With that being said, I still firmly believe I have moments of brilliance that are still waiting to return. Between Foley and Benning, I had multiple people in my groups compliment me on my shooting, and they are people whom I highly respect. They are well-respected archers who have accomplished things others can only dream about. They are winners. I've always believed that nothing is better than when you have the respect of your peers, and I know I have that. 

  Although I currently feel like there's a cloud floating above me that doesn't want to go away, I also know I have the power to change it. If I could jump outside of my body and look back toward myself, this would sum up exactly how I feel right now, I'll leave you with  this and this is also for the ones who might be snickering while thinking I'm done: