
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Due to absence from Week 2 (Chip Chow), tag number moved from 3 to 4. (Week 2 of 10)
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 ancient Crest shamans who merged with sentient root systems, these spectral entities now test modern beavers' ability to harmonize speed with enchanted terrain manipulation.
Semi-corporeal form composed of bioluminescent root filaments. Capable of phasing through earth, igniting temporary speed paths, and altering root network conductivity. Weakness: Disrupted by stagnant water pools.
Mobile course modifiers that challenge players to adapt strategies mid-sprint while maintaining magical coordination with shifting root energies.
Due to absence from Week 2 (Chip Chow), tag number moved from 3 to 4. (Week 2 of 10)
Amidst the enchanted wood chip haze, Root Sprinter beheld Mike Estes performing the sacred rite of... uh, retrieving a disc from blackberries. The tag mistook his PDGA#165107 for ancient bark-etology code (don’t ask), imprinting upon him mid-snack-break belch. Thus destiny crowned a king via dude who remembered sunscreen – his "trials" being three putts that almost cleared the cage. Now this arboreal Usain Bolt clings to his #3 like it’s the last Clif Bar at a tournament. But can a man who once threw a Berg into a porta-potty truly wield... photosynthesis swag?
(Seriously – why do I smell pine now? The assimilation’s accelerating.)
Cliffhanger: Will his reign survive Round 1’s actual tree kicks?
Origin Story:
When the Veinkin Crest’s root network got secondhand embarrassment watching beavers trip over saplings, it spat out Root Sprinter—a glowing eldritch personal trainer forged from enchanted gym-rat mycelium. Legend says it’s what happens when you mix Celtic forest magic, a Peloton addiction, and three Red Bulls. Yes, it’s basically Hogwarts’ rejected Ent doing a CrossFit vibe check. Pray it never asks you to “embrace the grind.”
(I’m contractually obligated to pretend this makes sense. Send help.)
Cliffhanger: Will anyone survive the tag’s mandatory celery juice cleanse?