Flying High With Frisbee Golf
from the August 2005 INsite Magazine
Last month I dedicated myself to Frisbee golf. That’s right, it’s golf with a Frisbee. Recreational players like to call it “frolf.” Serious players call it disc golf. Yes, there are serious frolf players. There is a Professional Disc Golf Association that has a championship and a Masters tournament. It’s been around since its constitution was ratified on February 1, 1987. Think about that for a second.
Frisbee golf: the name describes the sport about as well as it could. It’s golf, without balls. All the rules of regular golf apply. The object in frolf is to complete each hole in as few throws as possible. There are white tees, blue tees, par, and a fairway. There are even drivers, irons and putters, except they’re all Frisbees.
Having never tried the sport, I found all of this comforting. Summertime, what was left of it anyway, was all about leisure this year, and I wasn’t trying to spend minute upon minute learning new rules. Having jumped right in, I intended to play three courses in three states in one month. I wound up playing in two states and learning a thing or two about personal satisfaction in the process.
First was the oldest Frisbee golf course in the country, the Sedgley Woods Disc Golf Course in Philadelphia where I found that the mental transition into Frisbee golf is easy, the physical transition is surprisingly hard. You probably think you can throw a Frisbee, you might be in for a surprise when you try to throw a Frisbee golf disc. These projectiles are highly specialized and dangerous objects.
“You can’t beat physics,” explained my Frisbee golf tutor, Chris Lawson after I threw my third disc directly into the woods at high velocity. “You need to throw these discs really flat.”
It was one of those three-shower days unique to East Coast summers and rain forests, and we had worked up quite a sweat chasing my throws into the brush on the front nine, so we took a break in the clubhouse. The clubhouse at Sedgley Woods is a pair of benches by a wall separating the course from the parking lot.
“Have you seen a guy pull up in a green Mustang?” asked a shirtless 19-year-old to nobody in particular. A wild tangle of red hair was caked to the sides of his head. “He was supposed to meet me here and sell me some weed.”
We hadn’t seen the Mustang. The kid looked disappointed.
I was contemplating the odds of this situation ever occurring at a country club when the other half of my twosome got a call on his cell phone.
“Hey, Chicken … I’m playing Frisbee golf right now, what do you want? … I’m sorry, Chicken. … Look, why don’t you go downstairs, there’s some sausage in the fridge. … All right, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Law’s girlfriend wasn’t felling well, so, apparently, he prescribed sausage. For the record, this ranks as the most hilarious half-conversation I’ve heard this year, though it’s only September and a lot of hilarious half-conversations are bound to happen during the first half of fantasy football season.
I didn’t follow-up, but I imagine the sausage did the trick since we finished the round uninterrupted.
The back nine went slowly. We let two parties play through while I searched for my drives on 10 and 15. I left the course sweaty and humbled as a PDGA tournament began. I saw a guy throw a Frisbee 120 yards. Think about that for a second.
My next outing was to be at the beautiful Zephyr Cove Park in Nevada on the shore of the mighty Lake Tahoe. But a frolf party of seven and no room in the car left me off the list for that outing, so my next Frisbee golf adventure awaited my return to Massachusetts in Sharon at the Boarderland State Park, where I finally found my stroke.
INsite football reporter Evan Monsky, a member of the 7-player Nevada frolfing melee, opened my eyes to a whole new way to play. In golf there’s a right way to swing, a wrong way to swing, and 3,000 golf pros trying to explain them to you. Frolf is all about personal freedom.
On that Sunday I learned that that there are many ways to throw a Frisbee golf disc, and that each throwing method lets you express yourself as a player.
Standard
When you picture someone throwing a Frisbee this is what comes to mind first. The trick with this method is to generate as much spin as possible with a strong wrist-flick on a level plane. I gave this technique its chance and it just does not work for me. However Law pointed out that good players generate extra distance with this method by doing a little half-hop spin before the final step, which is really impressive. This is the Kielbasa Sausage of frolf throws, if you can handle it, there’s really no substitute.
Overhand Chuck
This method borrows from axe- and javelin-throwing, and is by far the most dangerous. Very high velocities are achieved coming out of the tee box, but distance is sacrificed due to the considerable drag created by the barrel-rolling of the disc. Most throws, in fact, turn over then turn right side up before landing. This is the Knockwurst of frolf throws because it’s not for everyone and it gets ugly before it gets good. Spend a moment thinking about knockwurst with me. Mmmm.
Sidearm Sling
This is my preferred method of throwing. This outside-in motion makes use of the stronger muscles in the chest and arm to generate a great deal of distance with little effort. The key is in the extra rotation generated by the inside wrist-flick. This is the Chorizo of frolf throws, a little bit goes a long way.
Can’t Throw For Sh*t
Pretty much everyone starts out with this method. Apparently two out of the seven players on the Nevada course used this throw for the entire 18 holes, which explains why I was left frolfless and friendless for five hours. This is the Oscar Meyer Weiner of frolf throws.
I’m tempted to deliver a verdict on Frisbee golf here because a sport with such a ridiculous name that has a worldwide governing body deserves as much. But I’m going to resist temptation, like so much extra spicy Italian salami and say that Frisbee golf is something you just have to try for yourself. Try the sidearm sling, maybe do some drugs, whatever makes you happy. I guess, at least in that regard, frolf may be the perfect summer sport.