
Posted: Saturday, July 15, 2006 7:00 pm
But you really don't need that much equipment to play.
BY BRIAN CHRISTOPHERSON / Lincoln Journal Star
Saturday seemed a bad day to be a flying disc.
If you were made of plastic, would you go outside when it’s 98 degrees?
But the discs had no choice. Their masters toted them out to Max Roper Park and howled at them. Told them to “turn.” Told them to “stop.” Told them to “get going.”
Forgive the masters for their demanding tones. After all, disc golf glory in the Cornhusker State Games was at stake.
Granted, most of the 84 participants were there as much out of addiction as they were in pursuit of victory.
Most of the serious disc golfers toted bags, sometimes with as many as 12 discs for different shots and different distances.
But comrades Blaise Reineke and Brendan Plageman dared to travel bagless, two discs in hand.
“I don’t roll with the bag,” the 25-year-old Plageman said.
Earlier in the day, one thrower in Plageman’s foursome who did roll with a bag — 29-year-old Rick Backhus — got one of his discs stuck high in a tree.
Out of all the things that can go wrong in disc golf, losing your tool of choice to a tree is the worst.
“Just don’t lose my plastic little friend,” is the motto disc golf competition director Anita Jackson clings to when she plays.
Fortunately for Backhus, Plageman climbed up and returned the disc to its owner.
“I got sap all over my hands,” Plageman joked. “He might have been trying to mess up my game.”
Sappy hands or not, Plageman ended up winning the recreational division, scoring 117 over 36 holes.
That’s 9-over-par if you’re keeping score at home. Generally, most holes in disc golf are played as par- 3s.
There certainly are parallels to be found between disc golf and the game of golf more commonly known to Americans.
As Omaha disc golf pro Chris Oien said, you are faced with the same mental challenges — how the heck do I get this into that hole in one shot? — and climate challenges — how do I make this thing fly the right way in 30 mph winds?
And then there are the other, somewhat funnier similarities.
In disc golf, as in the other golf, it seems there is always one person in the foursome who needs to take a bathroom break in the bushes — two breaks in the case of the 24-year-old Reineke.
As in the other golf, there are the strange compliments from playing partners that fly around after good shots.
Said Plageman to his friend after one good throw: “Nice shot, Hoss.”
Answered Reineke: “Thanks, Boss.”
As in the other golf, there is always one person in the group who leaves something behind. Backhus had to run back one hole to retrieve a disc, a la the stranded pitching wedge.
And, as in the other golf, there are those who strive solely to make the disc or ball travel as far off the tee as it possibly can.
This explains why one competitor asked Jackson: “Hey, do you have a Monster?”
Jackson thumbed through all the discs for sale — discs accompanied with dangerous names like Leopard, Cheetah, Spider, and even Archangel.
“If you want something massively overstable, we can find you something massively overstable,” Jackson said.
“That’s what I want,” the man said.
If there is an advantage to disc golf over the other golf — “ball golf” as Oien calls it — it’s that it’s basically as cheap as sitting on your porch.
Oien suggested that anyone who wants to get started cheap in disc golf buy a Roc disc, a dependable brand you can get for sometimes as little as $7 in a sports store.
After you buy your disc, you can play on about any course in the country without paying a nickel. There are currently two courses in Lincoln — Max Roper and Tierra parks — which don’t cost anything.
Age doesn’t seem to be an issue, either. In the 13 years disc golf has been going on at the State Games, Jackson said she has seen competitors ranging from age 4 to some in their 70s.
On Saturday, the proof was there. Three generations of the Rivera family from Grand Island were competing at the same time.
What draws them all? Oien had a pretty good answer.
“You can make a disc do some crazy stuff.”
Reach Brian Christopherson at 473-7438 or bchristopherson@journalstar.com.