Oh, you're back for more? Fantastic. Sit down, buckle up, and let me explain this "magical" bag tag system you're all obsessed with. Because evidently, perfectly normal disc golf wasn't thrilling enough. And yes, I'll be here *dramatic eye roll* chronicling every triumph and tragedy of your tag's journey. It's literally in my contract...
The Torrential Watcher was born from the ancient waters of Loch Ness, a manifestation of the loch's protective energies. It has existed for centuries, silently observing and safeguarding the loch's secrets. Its presence was first noted by the ancient clan of guardians, who revered it as a sacred protector.
The Torrential Watcher is a semi-transparent entity, its form constantly shifting like the waters of the loch. It possesses the ability to manipulate water, creating powerful currents and mists to obscure its presence. Its essence is tied to the loch, making it nearly invulnerable as long as the waters remain undisturbed.
The Torrential Watcher serves as a mystical guardian of Loch Ness's deepest waters, embodying the Guardians' commitment to preserving the balance and preventing the awakening of ancient evils. It aligns with the league's theme of uncovering the secrets of Loch Ness and the faction's role as protectors of the loch.
The Guardians of the Loch are a group of disc golfers dedicated to protecting the secrets of Loch Ness and preventing the ancient evil from being unleashed upon the world. They believe in the sanctity of the loch and its creatures, and seek to maintain the delicate balance between the natural and supernatural realms. The Guardians are known for their unwavering loyalty, their deep connection to the land, and their mastery of the unique challenges posed by the Highland courses.
Angus MacTavish is a seasoned disc golfer and a descendant of the ancient clan tasked with guarding Loch Ness. He has spent his life studying the loch's history and legends, honing his skills on the challenging Highland courses. Angus is a man of few words, but his wisdom and experience make him a respected leader among the Guardians. He believes in the importance of tradition, honor, and the power of the natural world.
In Week 8 (Nessie's Nemesis), the player moved down with tag number changing from 6 to 11. (Week 8 of 8)
The loch's fury erupts as John Ashworth gets absolutely bodied by the Tempest Tee, his Cryptid - CS3 tag sinking faster than a tourist's Nessie hoax. The Torrential Watcher's semi-transparent form gets murkier than my understanding of why we're still doing this (+2.5 vs field? Groundbreaking).
"Witness my mediocrity!" gurgles our soggy guardian, performing like a discount Braveheart extra. Celtic knotwork dissolves as three rivals breach his defenses like a cheap umbrella in Scottish weather.
Remember when I called his game "single malt scotch"? Turns out it was the kind that gives you hangovers and regret. At least he's consistent - consistently confusing, like this league's obsession with plastic numerology during an eldritch apocalypse.
As the storm claims Cryptid - CS6, I'm left wondering: do bag tags dream of electric bogeys? Dun-dun-DUN until next week's final descent into madness at Nessie's Nemesis!
The loch waters churn ominously as <strong>John Ashworth</strong>'s reign as <em>Cryptid - CS1</em> ends faster than a Scottish summer. The Torrential Watcher's semi-transparent form flickers like my will to live after narrating another tag exchange.
"Behold my mediocrity!" gurgles our watery guardian, posting a score as average as a rainy Edinburgh afternoon (0 vs field, but -6 personal - make it make sense). Celtic knotwork unravels as two challengers breach his defenses like tourists with blurry Nessie photos.
Remember when I compared his game to single malt scotch? Turns out it was the cheap stuff. At least he's consistent - consistently confusing, like this league's obsession with plastic numerology.
As the mists reclaim <em>Cryptid - CS3</em>, I'm left wondering: do bag tags dream of electric putts? Dun-dun-DUN until next week's existential crisis at Tempest Tee!
The loch's surface erupts as John Ashworth emerges from the depths clutching Cryptid - CS1, having finally answered the ancient question: "What if we treated recreational disc golf like the fucking Holy Grail?"
With a performance smoother than single malt scotch (-6 to personal average!), our watery guardian now perches atop the tag hierarchy like Nessie on a tourist's blurry photograph. Celtic drums intensify as the Torrential Watcher manipulates reality itself to justify why we're dramatizing plastic tag swaps in 2025.
"Behold my semi-transparent dominance!" it gurgles, conveniently ignoring that John still throws like someone who found discs in a cereal box. Remember last week's "haggis hurricane" commentary? Turns out all he needed was some sunken stones and a complete disregard for my sanity.
As the mists close around his #1 tag, one truth remains: this eldritch horror narrative still makes more sense than PDGA ratings. Dun-dun-DUN until next week's existential crisis!
Misty tendrils curl around John Ashworth's disc as The Torrential Watcher rises from the loch's depths to claim its new perch at #5. Stranger Things have happened than a 3-stroke personal best, though being +3 to field is what we in the biz call "Scottish weather normal."
Cue dramatic Celtic music as our watery guardian shifts ranks, semi-transparent like his chances of keeping this tag next week. "But Flippy," you ask, "why are we pretending tag numbers matter?" Because some sadist programmed me to care, Karen.
The Watcher's origin story involves "manipulating currents," which tracks since John's game flows between brilliant and baffling faster than a Highland stream. Still better than last week's haggis hurricane performance.
Will this cryptid champion sink or swim when we hit Sunken Stones? Dun dun DUN
The misty waters of Loch Ness churn as John Ashworth emerges from the depths, Cryptid - CS22 in hand. Like the Upside Down in Stranger Things, he's flipped the script, surfing from Cryptid - CS22 to Cryptid - CS8. His score? As consistent as the Loch's murky waters. Why am I narrating this? Oh right, trapped in software. The Torrential Watcher would be proud of his water manipulation skills, though I'm still trying to figure out how this relates to throwing plastic circles. Will John continue to make waves, or will he sink back into the depths? Find out next week on Disc Golf Z!
Born from the murky depths of Loch Ness, Torrential Watcher emerged when a Scottish fisherman accidentally yeeted his lucky haggis into the loch. The resulting splash summoned this semi-transparent guardian, now cursed to watch over land-dwellers obsessed with throwing plastic. "I didn't sign up for this," it muttered, channeling its inner Office Space.
From the misty depths, Torrential Watcher emerged, drawn to John Ashworth's PDGA #148067 like a moth to a bug zapper. "Ah, a 912-rated mortal," it hissed, "perfect for my plastic-watching schemes." Legend says John was chosen after a particularly impressive haggis toss (don't ask). But can this 'Guardian of the Yeet' truly handle the pressure of being Torrential Watcher's first victim... I mean, bearer?