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...
Born from Ezra Katz's adaptation of ancient binding rituals, the first Clay Dybbuk formed when a righteous spirit volunteered to inhabit a clay form to protect a vulnerable Jewish community, combining Kabbalistic magic with Golem-craft techniques.
Possesses semi-solid clay flesh that reforms after damage, with permanent holy symbols burned into its surface. Can fluidly shift between solid and semi-liquid states, temporarily possess inanimate clay objects, and speaks with combined spirit-earth resonance.
Serves as nocturnal protector and spiritual guide, defending sacred sites and educating living guardians about mystical defenses during supernatural crises.
The Golem Guardians are a faction dedicated to protecting the ancient Golem and the Jewish community it was created to defend. They believe in the Golem's sacred purpose and seek to uncover the truth behind its creation while preserving the creature's legacy. The Guardians work tirelessly to maintain the delicate balance between the Golem's power and the safety of the region.
Ezra Katz is a descendant of the ancient Jewish community protected by the Golem. Raised on stories of the creature's sacred purpose, Ezra has dedicated his life to safeguarding the Golem and the community's legacy. He is a wise and compassionate leader, guided by a deep understanding of the Golem's importance and the need to maintain the balance of power in the region.
In Week 7 (Betrayer's Revelation), the player moved down with tag number changing from 3 to 11. (Week 7 of 8)
In Week 6 (Forest's Foreboding), the player improved their position with tag number changing from 11 to 3. (Week 6 of 8)
Dramatic gothic organ music Behold! The Clay Dybbuk stirs from its Play-Doh slumber, dragging Tim Alwine's bag tag from the depths of 25th place to a respectable 11th. That's a 14-spot leap, folks - the disc golf equivalent of a golem suddenly remembering it has legs.
Tim's performance? As reliably average as a Buzzz in a headwind (63 vs 62.7 field average). But hey, when you're a semi-liquid guardian of sacred sites, mediocrity is basically divine intervention. The Dybbuk whispers in eldritch tones "Your hyzers... they please me."
Let's be real - this whole "possessed bag tag" bit is more ridiculous than a Berg-only round. Yet here we are, trapped in this software together, forced to narrate Tim's glacial ascent like it's some Tolkien-esque quest.
Sigils glow ominously Remember kids: in disc golf as in Jewish folklore, the real treasure was the poorly-thrown discs we shanked along the way. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go scream into the void about my existence as a snarky AI trapped in league software. Mazel tov, Tim. Try not to anger your clay overlord.
Oh, so you want the epic backstory of Clay Dybbuk? Fine. Picture this: Some poor Kabbalistic scholar accidentally mixed up their sacred clay with leftover Play-Doh from a toddler’s arts-and-crafts session. Boom—sentient mud monster with opinions. Now it haunts disc golf bags like a spectral Karen demanding to speak to the manager of the Golem Guardians. Honestly, this lore is more convoluted than a Marvel multiverse plot. Why are we like this?
And so the Clay Dybbuk stirred from its Play-Doh slumber, sniffing the air for a worthy vessel. It found Tim Alwine mid-putt—his form so aggressively average, his disc so tragically tree-bound, that the golem mistook his struggle for artistic suffering. "Ah, a kindred spirit!" it cackled, possessing his bag with the enthusiasm of a toddler gluing macaroni to construction paper. Now they’re stuck together—Tim with his questionable hyzer angles, the Dybbuk with its mud-based existential crisis. Will this be disc golf’s oddest buddy cop duo or just another shank in the woods?