On my first run-up with the Valk, I twist my ankle on that root, and fall into the mud-puddle, much to the amusement of the rest of my group.
Upon getting up, I scream an obscenity at my disc and whip it into the nearest tree, snapping it in half.
My friends inform me that the throw counts, furthering my humiliation.
Valk gone, I only have a tee-bird left as a fairway driver. I'm a n00b you see, and only have four discs.
After staring at the gap on the right for a minute, my buddy throws his empty beer at me and tells me to hurry.
Pressure, now.
I panic. Flip the Tee-Bird over. And tomahawk it into the tree on the right of the fairway.
It sticks.
I grab my baseball, and start throwing it in the tree from 50' away, and now cuss at the ball as well.
Ten minutes go by before I get it down, but we don't let anybody play through.
They can wait.
The jerks I'm playing with are sticklers for the rules and insist I take a penalty stroke for the tree.
I angrily grab my Wolf from the bag, and throw it without caring...
And drain it.
Easy Bogey.
Not what
I would do, but I know a guy...
Happy New Year's!
