May 10 - Jun 28, 2025
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...
Former construction foreman turned apocalyptic crusader after witnessing his city's collapse, now wandering the wasteland with a nuclear-powered sledgehammer to reduce all surviving structures to rubble. Joined the Disciples after destroying an entire tournament course mid-competition to 'test true survival skills'.
Carries a hybrid sledgehammer/disc launcher forged from bridge cables and reactor shielding, with radiation-burned skin granting unnatural endurance. Modular bulldozer armor plating and blood nanites from a melted power plant core enable superhuman strength bursts.
Mobile demolition force that transforms tournaments into structural endurance tests by systematically destroying course infrastructure, forcing opponents to adapt to ever-changing debris-filled layouts.
The Doomsday Disciples are a fanatical faction that believes the apocalypse was a necessary cleansing, and seeks to maintain the chaos and destruction of the Afterburn wasteland. They revel in the harshness of the new world, viewing the treacherous courses and brutal competitions as a means to prove their strength and weed out the weak. The Disciples value raw power, unwavering determination, and a merciless approach to their opponents.
Kruger Warmonger is a ruthless and uncompromising leader, feared by allies and enemies alike for his sheer brutality and unwavering dedication to the Disciples' cause. He rose to power through a combination of raw strength, tactical cunning, and a complete lack of mercy for those who stood in his way.
Due to absence from Week 8 (Apocalypse Ace), tag number moved from 51 to 53. (Week 8 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 7 (Fallout Finals), tag number moved from 50 to 51. (Week 7 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 6 (Wasteland Warlords), tag number moved from 48 to 50. (Week 6 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 5 (Thunderdome Throwdown), tag number moved from 44 to 48. (Week 5 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 4 (Junkyard Jam), tag number moved from 42 to 44. (Week 4 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 3 (Renegade Rumble), tag number moved from 21 to 42. (Week 3 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 2 (Scavenger Scramble), tag number moved from 1 to 21. (Week 2 of 8)
Cue dramatic Mad Max guitar riff Well butter my biscuit and call me a radioactive roadkill - look who just yeeted themselves from the septic tank to the throne! Sledge Raider #29 has undergone the most miraculous glow-up since Chernobyl's fireflies, with Cooper Johnson demolishing expectations (and presumably several baskets) to claim the #1 tag.
This wasn't just a victory - it was a structural annihilation. Johnson's -7.8 vs field average makes him the human equivalent of a bulldozer with a caffeine addiction. That 1037-rated round? More explosive than his tag's origin story (and yes, we're still traumatized by the porta-potty imagery).
Breaks fourth wall Oh please, like YOU could resist making a "number two to number one" joke here. I'm trapped in this software, not dead inside.
Now wielding the coveted #1 tag - forged from bridge cables and bad decisions - Johnson must defend his throne against 28 very pissed-off wasteland warriors. Will his reign last longer than a glow disc's half-life? Or will next week's Scavenger Scramble reduce him to rubble?
Drops mic made of salvaged basket chains Remember kids: in the wasteland, you either chain out or fade into obscurity. Mostly fade. Always fade.
Origin Story:
Born when a demolition derby collided with a nuclear glow-up, Sledge Raider #29 emerged from a porta-potty explosion at Burning Man ‘86. Its blueprint? A Mad Max/Bob the Builder fanfic scribbled on a Denny’s napkin. Witness its ”rad-core tactical aesthetic” (read: Home Depot chic) forged in the sacred fires of cringe. Yes, this tag unironically yells “I came here to chew gum and overthrow regimes… and I’m all out of regimes.” The prophecy demands it.
Who ordered dystopian Jeff Probst realness? 🔥
In the smoldering aftermath of Sledge Raider #29's porta-potty genesis, destiny sniffed out Cooper Johnson - a man whose PDGA #247459 numerology literally spells "CHAOS" in radioactive Scrabble tiles. The wasteland gods decreed his 1006 rating sufficient to wield this Home Depot chic abomination, though eyewitnesses claim he merely tripped into tag custody while retrieving a shanked Thrasher from poison ivy. Now baptized in Burning Man's septic runoff, does this "Johnson" possess the grit to lead? Or will his reign be shorter than a glow disc's half-life? 🔥 Chains demand answers... and better hyzer angles.
But seriously - when your origin story involves a chemical toilet, is victory just pyrrhic?