Bulging discs
July 28, 2005
Marc Ethier
Staff Writer

Tom Fedor/The Gazette

In Middletown last Thursday, Dan Becker (right) of Frederick tosses his putting disc at the basket as Shawn Wirth, also of Frederick, looks on. The game they're playing is called disc golf and it's getting its share of converts these days.

Thoughts on a different way to golf

Just don't call it Frisbee golf. The practitioners of the sport of disc golf are pretty laid-back people, generally speaking, but if there's one thing that gets their discs in a downwind it's using the F-word.

Golf discs are vastly different in basic utility from the average Wham-O. And the game is a little more serious than the word "Frisbee" implies.

But just a little.

I learned this and more about disc golf -- where hard rubber discs are used in a golf-like setting as players aim for large metal baskets that serve as holes -- over the last few weeks when a friend demonstrated to me that I lived not two miles from a course in College Park. There is also a course in Middletown, and one in Patapsco Valley State Park, on the border of Carroll and Howard counties.

Maryland has 11 courses in all. Texas leads the nation with 113 courses. The U.S., where the sport was invented, leads the world with 1,453 courses.

Sweden, for some reason, is second with 62.

All this is astounding to me because before June I had never heard of disc golf. I thought it had something to do with Ultimate Frisbee.

The F-word again.

But not only is disc golf out there, the sport is growing. Since the mid-1970s, when the PDGA -- Pro Disc Golf Association -- was formed, the number of courses worldwide has more than doubled. In the last eight years the number of pro events has jumped from 235 to 603, with the total purse in those events growing from $368,800 to $1,316,800.

More people are playing, but not unless they belong to a certain demographic: the 30-year-old college-educated male. A category I fit into, being 30 in October. Perhaps, like me, people need about 30 years for disc golf to enter their consciousness.

It doesn't seem to be entering the consciousness of women (only 8 percent of PDGA members are female), however. But that's another story.

As I say, last month a friend -- another college-educated male, incidentally -- and I visited the course in College Park, a place known as Calvert Road Park. The PDGA Web site says the park was established in 1980, making it the oldest disc golf course in the state. We "rung the chains" that hang down over the basket on each hole, and I was hooked.

So I looked for a park in the Frederick area and found one in Middletown. Rick Millward, a longtime local golfer who still occasionally competes in tournaments -- he has brothers in North Carolina (54 courses) who compete, as well -- agreed to meet me and give me a tip or two.

Or three. Really, he spent the whole afternoon telling me what I was doing wrong.

Which is fine -- that's how you get better. I couldn't have had a better teacher. Millward knows what he's talking about: Not just a player, he was involved in the design of Middletown Park, a course with rolling hills and long, open fairways established in 1996.

"It becomes a passion for people," said Millward, who has played disc golf for 20 years. "It's a real enjoyable thing to do. The cha-ching of the chains is a neat thing.

"Disc golf allows you to just relax and enjoy your surroundings, and find out what your body can do."

Getting better at disc golf is remarkably easy when you compare it to, say, golf-golf. Millward has a simple explanation: In golf, you have two elements, the club and the ball, and your task is to bring them into harmony. It can be a brutally cruel task, which explains the occasional reports of goose-maulings that I see on the newswire.

In disc golf, there's just the disc. And who hasn't played Frisbee?

Sorry, did I say Frisbee?

But here's the most important distinction of all: In most places disc golf is absolutely free.

Free. No fees whatsoever.

"It lets you get away from it for awhile, and it's free most of the time," Millward said, "and that's really what it's all about."

It's also about forgiveness. Disc golf is a forgiving sport. The worst-looking drives usually turn out to be not so bad (as long as you don't go backward, an exceedingly difficult thing to do). Even bouncing the disc off a tree and 20 feet in the wrong direction doesn't necessarily spell disaster.

Losing a disc entirely is another story. Try not to do that.

If you manage to keep your disc long enough, you'll get to know it, and the most important thing in disc golf is knowing your disc. What kind of disc is it -- driver, approach, putter, multi-purpose? How much does it weigh? How far does it go? How hard does it hook left?

As you play more -- and why not play when it's free? -- you'll get opportunities to hone your game. Like most people, I am right-handed and I throw with my backhand, and I probably always will. But don't be surprised to see people who deviate from this basic design. Some throw forehand, like a baseball; some roll the disc along the ground. You'll learn about throwing hyzer, with the left edge of the disc tilted downward, and anhyzer, where it is tilted upward.

Different discs are good at different things -- which is why frequent players carry lots of discs -- so know your disc and you're off to a good start.

"It's just like golf: Know which club you like best. Use what works for you," Millward said.

Then it's just a matter of having a good time. That's not hard to do on a disc golf course.

Just don't use the F-word.