When Did “Hard” Become a Bad Word in Disc Golf?
We've been hearing a lot lately about courses being too hard.
Too long. There are too many hazards. You might lose a disc. There are par 4s and par 5s. You have to think about where you're throwing. We've even heard that some people choose not to play a course because they’ve heard it’s hard.
It got me thinking…When did "hard" become a bad word in disc golf?
I’ve been playing disc golf for almost 10 years, and have played disc golf across North America, on all sorts of different levels and lengths of courses. Somewhere along the way, it seems like we've started measuring the quality of a disc golf course by how easy it is to shoot under par. The more birdies you can make, the better the course feels. The lower your score, the better the round must have been. Heck, I’ve falling into that trap myself at times!
But does that necessarily mean you played better disc golf?
Hard and unfamiliar aren't the same thing
Think about the first time you play a ball golf course you've never seen before. You don't know where you want your drive to land, which side of the fairway gives you the best angle into the green, or exactly where the trouble is.
Then you get to the green and discover that you don't know that either. You don't know how fast the greens are, where the slopes are, where you want to leave your approach, or which side of the pin gives you the safest putt.
Does that mean the golf course is too hard?
Of course not. It means you've never played it before.
The second time around, things start to make sense. You know where you want to land your drive, you understand the greens, you know where the trouble is and which areas you can afford to miss.
The course hasn't changed. You've simply learned how to play it.
Disc golf is no different.
Your first round at a course like Twin Stacks is a learning experience
When you first play courses similar to our course at Twin Stacks, you're trying to absorb a lot of information at once. You're learning the distances, landing zones, hazards and lines, while also trying to figure out which shots make sense for your own skill level.
That's especially important because Twin Stacks wasn't designed to have every hole played the same way. Some holes reward aggression, while others reward patience and placement. On some holes, the best drive is the one that gets you the most distance. On others, putting the disc in the right location can be much more important, particularly when water or another hazard is in play.
After you've played it several times, you start to understand the difference between a difficult shot and an unnecessary shot. You begin to recognize which landing zones set up your next throw, which hazards are genuinely dangerous and which holes you can play well based on your own abilities.
As a former 6 handicap player in ball golf, I can confidently say, that's course management. It's a huge part of golf that doesn't get talked about nearly enough in disc golf. Remember, disc golf IS golf!
My own experience with Twin Stacks
I think it's worth putting some personal perspective behind this discussion because I'm not writing this as a touring professional who can throw 450 feet and make every hole look easy.
I'm 52 years old, I'm a recreational player, and I'm certainly not an MA1-level player. I've also been dealing with a badly injured knee, so these days I'm happy if I can consistently get close to 350 feet.
When I first played Twin Stacks, I lost three or four discs. And yes, they were lost in the water.
That's important to acknowledge because I know the water is one of the things people talk about when they say they're worried about playing Twin Stacks. There are certainly holes where the water is a factor, and if you make a bad decision or don't execute the shot, there is a chance you're going to pay for it.
But here's the interesting part: I haven't continued losing discs at that rate every time I play the course.
I've lost a couple since, but I can always tell you exactly why. I'll throw; watch it head toward the water and realize afterward that it wasn't really the course that caused the problem. I either didn't execute the shot properly, or I made a bad decision about what shot I should have been throwing.
The first time I played the course, I didn't know the lines or distances as well as I do now. I hadn't learned which shots were worth the risk and which ones weren't. Some of those lost discs were simply the result of learning the course.
I'm not saying this because I think I'm some great disc golfer. I'm not. There are plenty of players who can throw farther, putt better and play at a much higher level than I do.
But I know Twin Stacks.
Even with my current distance, I can shoot even par or under par on the Red layout at times, and I can put together reasonably low scores on Blue (Our long tees). I don't need to throw 400 feet to play a lot of the holes well. I need to understand where I want my disc to finish, know which shots are within my ability, manage the risk and make good decisions.
That's the difference between learning a course and learning how to play it.
The score doesn't tell the whole story
There's nothing wrong with shooting 14 under. It's fun, it's satisfying, and there's a reason people celebrate big scores.
But imagine two players.
One shoots 14 under on a short, open course where almost every hole is a straightforward birdie opportunity. The other shoots even par on a course that requires controlled distance, proper disc selection, shot placement, different shot shapes, risk management and careful decisions about where to leave the next shot.
Which player played better?
You can't answer that simply by looking at the scorecard.
Par only has meaning in the context of the course you're playing. A one-under round on a demanding course can represent an incredible performance, while a double-digit-under round on a very easy course may not tell you nearly as much about a player's overall ability.
You can walk off Twin Stacks having shot even par or one under, look at your scorecard and think, "Holy crap, I played really well today."
And you should.
Maybe we're measuring the wrong thing
Think about the courses and rounds you remember. They're probably not necessarily the ones where you shot your lowest score.
I played Canada's #1 course, Hillcrest Farms in Prince Edward Island, last year. This was not an easy course. However, it was the best experience I have ever had playing disc golf. It was the most incredible course I have ever played.
I played the course three times. I was way over par in the first round. By the third round, the course got easier, my game got better, and I broke par.
Those experiences don't necessarily come from easy courses.
Some of the most satisfying rounds happen when the score isn't particularly impressive to anyone looking at it from the outside. You might shoot even par, but you know you managed the course better than you ever have before. You made the right decisions, avoided unnecessary risks, recovered when things went wrong and executed the shots you needed to execute.
That's a good round, and that's improvement.
So, what's wrong with a hard course?
Maybe nothing.
A course can be challenging without being unfair. It can demand more from you without being poorly designed. It can make you think without making you miserable. In fact, those things may be exactly what make a course worth coming back to.
If you've played Twin Stacks once and thought it was hard, that's okay. You probably haven't figured it out yet.
Come back and play it again. Learn the landing zones and the lines. Learn where the water actually comes into play. Figure out where you want your next shot to come from. Learn which holes you can attack and which ones are better played with a little patience.
The more you understand the course, the more manageable it becomes.
It's finishing a round, knowing you played the course well, made good decisions and executed the shots you needed to make, and thinking:
"Holy crap, I played some really good disc golf today."
