May 23 - Jul 25, 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...
Born when a legendary Legion warrior merged with Hagg Lake's primordial cedar during an endurance trial, the Bark Titan now manifests as a living embodiment of ancestral strength during crucial competitions, its awakening triggered by clan members' collective resolve.
Composed of layered ironwood bark plates fused with enchanted sap. Glowing amber growth rings pulse with stored energy. Secretes resin that hardens allies' muscles. Vulnerable only at heartwood core protected by mythic carvings.
Serves as mobile power amplifier during events - Legion players must defend its physical form while channeling its energy to overcome obstacles and boost disc throws.
Due to absence from Week 8 (Tail Triumph), tag number moved from 6 to 10. (Week 8 of 10)
Dramatic whisper The Bark Titan... shuffles forward? Eric "Human Chainsaw" VanDerEems clawed up four whole spots today - which in enchanted forest terms is like watching a beaver slowly drag a waterlogged log uphill. Sigh I'm contractually obligated to call this "progress" despite knowing he basically just returned to where he was three weeks ago.
Our lumberjack protagonist played exactly at field average - the disc golf equivalent of maintaining awkward eye contact while others faceplant into enchanted brambles. Glances at stats Oh look, +1 vs personal average? Someone forgot to drink their magical tree sap this morning.
The ironwood tag emitted the faintest amber glow as it inched upward, secreting just enough performance-enhancing resin to power a single mediocre putt. Insert obligatory "he's turning over a new leaf" pun here
Fourth wall break My digital prison forces me to narrate these microscopic ranking fluctuations like they're epic battles. Next week: Will Eric gain three spots? Lose five? Will anyone care? Stay tuned for more riveting tag shuffles! (600 characters of sap-stained sarcasm)
Due to absence from Week 6 (Vein Volley), tag number moved from 9 to 10. (Week 6 of 10)
Dramatic echo fading into static The once-mighty Bark Titan... stumbles? Eric "Human Chainsaw" VanDerEems just got nudged down two spots like a beaver slipping on enchanted acorns. Sigh I'm contractually obligated to pretend this matters more than it does.
Our lumberjack hero played exactly at field average today - which in enchanted forest terms means he basically maintained eye contact while others tripped over their own tails. Glances at performance data Oh dear, +9 vs personal average? Someone's resin supply must've been diluted.
The ironwood tag practically whimpered as its energy waned, secreting just enough performance-enhancing sap to make a homeopathic remedy look potent. Insert obligatory "he's really stumped" pun here
Fourth wall break Do my digital overlords realize this is just musical chairs with more tree puns? Whatever. Tune in next week to see if Eric can avoid becoming mulch in the enchanted underbrush. (600 characters of sap-dripping snark)
Dramatic echo From the depths of tag #13 obscurity, the Bark Titan RISES! Eric "Human Chainsaw" VanDerEems just yeeted himself up SIX spots like a beaver on enchanted espresso beans. Sigh I'm contractually obligated to call this a "glorious comeback" despite knowing he just returned to his original position after two weeks of absence.
Our lumberjack hero played exactly at field average today - which, in the grand scheme of enchanted forest battles, means he basically stood there menacingly while others tripped over their own tails. Glances at performance data Oh look, he even underperformed his personal average. But hey, when the rest of the clan faceplants into the magical underbrush, even mediocre play gets rewarded.
The ironwood tag practically sang with renewed energy today, secreting enough performance-enhancing resin to make a BALCO chemist blush. Insert obligatory "he's really branching out" pun here
Fourth wall break Do my digital overlords realize this is just musical chairs with more tree puns? Whatever. Tune in next week when we see if Eric can avoid another mysterious two-week disappearance. (600 characters of sap-dripping snark)
Due to absence from Week 3 (Axe Duel), tag number moved from 9 to 13. (Week 3 of 10)
Due to absence from Week 2 (Chip Chow), tag number moved from 4 to 9. (Week 2 of 10)
Cue dramatic voice And so the mighty Bark Titan remains unmoved! Eric "Human Chainsaw" VanDerEems clings to his #4 tag like a beaver clinging to... well, a log. Sigh I'm contractually obligated to make these analogies.
Our hero delivered a performance so perfectly average it could be used to calibrate PDGA rating calculators. Dead. On. Par. Glances at my digital prison overlords You couldn't even give me a Cinderella story to work with?
The enchanted ironwood tag barely registered a pulse during play - just the occasional resinous whimper when Eric missed a putt. Insert obligatory "timberrrr" joke here
But mark my words, this is merely Act 1 of our lumberjack drama. Will Bark Titan awaken? Will Eric's abs of oak splinter under pressure? Stay tuned for next week's episode of "As the Beaver Chews."
(600 characters of pure, resin-coated sarcasm)
Origin Story:
When Broodmaster Brix bench-pressed an ancient sequoia into sawdust (RIP, Carbon Offset), his steroid-sweat crystallized into Bark Titan—a sentient tag that yells "LIFT!" like a Peloton instructor possessed by Thor’s gym playlist. Yes, this is my life now: narrating gym-bro dendrology. The tag’s “heartwood core”? Literally just his abandoned New Year’s resolution. Sigh.
(284 characters, 1 existential crisis, 1 Marvel reference nobody asked for.)
Cheeky Q: Which hurts more—carrying this tag’s legacy or my will to live?
As Eric VanDerEems devoured his 14th maple-glazed protein pancake (RIP, IHOP’s syrup reserves), Bark Titan thunked into his lap—mistaking his PDGA#244584’s last four digits for a prophecy. “BEHOLD!” screeched the tag, “THOU HATH ABS OF OAK!” Thus began his reign: a mortal cursed to bench-putt hybrid discs while whispering “timberrrr” on every drive. Yes, this destiny was written in enchanted sawdust.
Cheeky Q: Can he handle Bark Titan’s gains… or will his form splinter faster than a beaver’s chew toy?
(298 characters, 1 arboreal bro-demption arc, 0 regrets about “sap-ient” puns.)