As you undoubtedly know if you've ever read anything I've ever written, I play rugby. More accurately, I help coach a rugby team these days, having decided that my body prefers standing and yelling to being trambled and crunched. So anyway, lots of times I get out to the practice field half an hour early and throw some drives, maybe work on some specific aspect of my game (it's amazing how many different drills you can do involving goalposts, through the top, through the bottom, under the goalposts but over the fence, . . .) or just try to crank 'em as far as I could. From goal line to goal line the rugby field is 325 feet (or 100 meters as we cosmopolitan types like to say), which for a long time was about as far as I could throw a disc.
Lots of times I'm still throwing when people start showing up for practice, which leads to silly questions, even sillier heckling, and, strangely enough, rumors (or is it rumours, since I did mention meters up there?) of another guy throwing discs on my field. I probed a bit but he didn't sound like any of the Athens disc golfers (the 3 that I know of...) and I dismissed it as the effects of last night's liquor. Until I met him. He's from Marietta (or May-retta, as it's pronounced), which is why he didn't sound familiar, and he just comes to town occasionally because his company does work out here. Who could pass up such an alluring field when they had 20 minutes to spare? Certainly not I and apparently not he.
So the other day I'm out on the field throwing in the middle of the day (helps when you set your own hours for work) and who should show up but this guy (whose name I don't remember, I should point out before someone yells at me for calling him, "this guy" over and over again). Cool. It just so happens that I'm out there working on my forehand distance, mainly because it still hurts to throw backhand (I got a boo-boo on my thumb a couple weeks ago playing rugby, which is to say when I wasn't smart enough to stay on the sidelines). So we start chatting, I've got 6 of my more overstable discs out there (2 X-Clones, 2 X2's, a Banshee and an SE T-Bird) and he's got 9 more stable sorts (XL, Leopard, JLS, and whatnot). He's throwing 'em just about the length of the field pretty consistently, I'm struggling to reach 300 feet forehand. As we throw, we talk, and as we talk I realize I'm giving him some advice on his technique and telling him all sorts of stories about other players I've played with or seen and the unbelievable things they can do. The more I talk, the more I can't tell if I've genuinely turned into a knowledgeable guy with useful things to share and a willingness to do so, or if I'm this loose mouthed braggart who can't stop suggesting that I'm cool because I have the time to travel to tournaments and be around good players.
Now, I genuinely hope it's the former (Are you aloud to do that? To refer to something in a previous paragraph as "former/latter"?) because I think I'll start to detest myself otherwise. So, going on the assumption that I'm not significantly more of a boor than I've always been, that's pretty cool. I've always loved knowing stuff (sounds better than "knowing things," I think) and I've always loved suggesting something and seeing it work.
So now he's holding his drives a little tighter and getting a moderate instant improvement. After we'd thrown down and back a couple times I decided to throw a few backhands (I couldn't stand being outdriven and not trying to fight back...). First, the banshee (which I don't normally throw), I don't get over it at all and it hyzers out almost exactly on the far goal line. Blah. I have my 2 X2's and my SE T-Bird. X2 first, ooh, it's nice. A pretty flight path, perhaps a bit on the high side. Well into the end zone, probably about 375. He's impressed. I casually mention that I've never thrown a disc over the fence, which is about the 390 mark and slightly uphill, but that it's my goal. I throw my next X2, not bad, almost exactly the same as the first. Pretty good throws for me, if I average 350 I'm happy. One disc to go, the T-Bird, a nice soft throw, just barely peeks over itself, holds its line nicely, *ching* I draw metal. Sure, sure, there's no basket, but I did hit the fence about a foot from the top. See, when I told him I'd never thrown over the fence before I failed to mention that I'd never even hit it with an airshot. Not bad timing on my part. I figured I should stop throwing backhands before he learned that I don't average 380' per drive. Until I do, of course.