Upon taking up disc golf at age 63, I quickly realized the sport was more than standing on a tee pad and spinning a disc out into the wide open fairway. It had to reach the fairway first. Apparently, skill was required.
I quickly came to the conclusion it would take a decade or so to acquire those skills, which meant I would be ready to turn pro at 73, about the same time I would be installing extra grab bars and ramps in my home. Go pro or go for safety in my home? Decisions!
Disc golf isn’t meant for geezers. Walkers, blood pressure medicine and Grecian formula are made for us. However, geezer disc golfers are undaunted. Remember, the public adores the person who arises from the spittoon of life and ultimately reaches golden heights through grit and determination.
While the pro can reach the basket in two throws, it takes us five or six throws. Yet we throw on. It’s not that disc golf is in our blood. Vital, life-sustaining chemicals are. We are the dogged, determined dogfaces of the disc golf courses. And for some of us, I mean that literally. We unflinchingly press on while all those around us are tossing birdies. We are Geezer Disc Golf!
And with that, I offer a couple of pieces of advice: First, know where all the porta-potties are. All of them. Embrace them all.
Secondly, carry a healthy supply of mini-discs. How many times after making a jaw-dropping throw over a large swath of water, or through a low ceiling tunnel, or on spot with an indescribable approach, you’ve stood and admired your throw while completely forgetting the mini-disc marking the lie at your feet? If you’re a geezer golfer, the answer is never. Jaw-dropping throws aren’t in your repertoire no matter how many discs you buy.
The reason a geezer golfer needs so many mini-discs is because…well, I forget. Just be prepared for that moment in the first fairway when you absent-mindedly walk away from your mini-disc simply because…well, I forget. The same applies for the second fairway, third fairway, fourth fairway and so on.
When playing with younger players and one of them says something like, “That’s tough luck,” after you make a ridiculously bad throw, be ready for that. In your best snarly and gravel-laden voice, say something like, “You think this is tough? Iwo Jima was tough.” Believe me, they have no idea what past age you come from. To them, you look as old as dirt. What you’re shooting for is respect based on connecting you to a monumental historical event rather than a missed 5-foot putt. It teaches them proper perspective as well. Don’t be ridiculous though. Don’t say “War of 1812.” They’re gullible, not stupid.
Never try to throw over water. Think about the water as if it’s the Bubonic plague and the Spanish flu rolled into one. Just don’t do it. Never. Ever. Don’t even try to throw over your dog’s water dish. Just don’t! It’s not about your inability to throw over water. You could do that during your 1:00 naptime if you really wanted to. It’s the fact you paid $15 for that disc. And you sure didn’t buy it only to see it sink into the bottom of a pond if because of some strange temporary loss of power you can’t throw a disc over water in your sleep.
Make certain you know how to properly carry your bag. Nothing looks worse than you walking down the fairway with your discs falling out behind you marking your trail behind you. It brings to mind the old geezer walking out of a restroom with a long strand of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his shoe. We’ve all been there, done that.
Don’t ever play with young women who are excellent disc golfers. Ever! Never! Call me sexist, but these kind ladies trend towards merciful tenderheartedness: “You almost made that one!” “A twelve on this 3-par isn’t bad.” “Go ahead and use the porta-potty. We’ll wait.”
With that, geezer disc golfer, go forth and conquer. The disc golf course awaits. As do the porta-potties.