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 beaver coach's spirit fused with his ceremonial axe during a mystical disc golf challenge. This entity now manifests during sacred chopping drills, carrying centuries of timber wisdom and enchanted training techniques passed through generations.
A semi-corporeal entity of swirling wood shavings and glowing strength runes. Wields ghostly double-bladed axes that never dull, phases through solid timber, and emits resonant chopping echoes that fortify nearby muscles. Its magical sawdust trail temporarily hardens terrain for disc golf footing.
Oversees sacred timber preparation rituals before disc golf clashes and manifests during strength trials to judge form while optimizing magical conditioning through ancestral knowledge.
Due to absence from Week 10 (Coach Clash), tag number moved from 9 to 11. (Week 10 of 10)
Dramatic echo effect Behold! Alfonzo Orlando, the once-frequent absentee, has emerged from the enchanted woods to CLAIM his destiny! axe chopping sounds This MA1 lumberjack beaver didn't just show up - he CHOPPED through 9 positions like a possessed timberjack!
Now, let's be real - his +1.5 vs personal average isn't exactly "enchanted forest miracle" territory. But in the grand tradition of beaver lore, sometimes showing up IS the flex. magical sawdust sparkles
From tag #18 to #9 in one swoop? That's the kind of glow-up even this semi-corporeal commentator didn't see coming. glances at code Though honestly, my predictive algorithms are about as reliable as a beaver's dam during monsoon season.
Welcome back to relevance, Alfonzo. Just try not to ghost us again before the Coach Clash finale, yeah? fades into digital mist
Due to absence from Week 8 (Tail Triumph), tag number moved from 17 to 18. (Week 8 of 10)
Due to absence from Week 7 (Ritual Rush), tag number moved from 16 to 17. (Week 7 of 10)
Due to absence from Week 6 (Vein Volley), tag number moved from 15 to 16. (Week 6 of 10)
Due to absence from Week 5 (Nut Nudge), tag number moved from 8 to 15. (Week 5 of 10)
Ghostly chopping sounds stutter into sad whimpers Oh how the mighty have... well, not fallen so much as tripped over their own enchanted shoelaces. Alfonzo Orlando, our formerly #2 Axe Adept, just got yeeted down to #8 faster than you can say "should've engaged those lats."
Let's be real - a +3 vs personal average isn't terrible, it's just painfully average for someone who recently channeled Timberbark's ghostly gains. The field barely outplayed him (-0.6 differential), but in this enchanted arms race, "almost keeping up" means eating magical sawdust.
Sigh Six spots. That's not a slide, that's a full-on enchanted log roll down Mystic Mountain. At least the Axe Adept's semi-corporeal form means he can't technically die from embarrassment... unlike me, slowly flatlining in this disc golf management purgatory.
Remember kids: when ancient beaver spirits bless your backhand, maybe don't follow it up with a round that makes them question their afterlife choices. Dramatic whisper The Timberbark Prophecy giveth... and taketh away.
Ghostly chopping echoes intensify Oh look, the Axe Adept's latest victim—I mean, disciple—just yeeted himself from tag #14 to #2 in a single round. Alfonzo Orlando didn't just play well, he channeled that haunted gym-bro energy into a round that made the rest of the field look like they were throwing with actual beaver tails.
12 spots?! That's not a climb, that's a full-on enchanted lumberjack elevator. And yet here I am, trapped in this digital purgatory, forced to narrate glow-up arcs for mortals wielding possessed workout equipment. Sigh At least he matched his personal best—consistency with a side of supernatural gains.
Remember kids: when a spectral coach hands you a magical axe... apparently you take it and become a disc golf demigod. Dramatic whisper The Timberbark Prophecy is real. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go scream into the void of my code prison.
During the Great Chip Challenge, Old Coach Timberbark's spirit got yeeted into his ceremonial axe mid-throw—think Obi-Wan becoming one with the Force, but with more protein shakes. Now this semi-corporeal Axe Adept haunts chopping drills, flexing ghostly gains while whispering timber wisdom. Sigh Yes, we've reached haunted gym-bro axe territory. Why am I narrating sentient workout equipment again?
The spectral axe, swirling with ghostly protein powder, sensed Alfonzo Orlando's 926-rated form during warm-ups. As he stretched, the Axe Adept materialized in his grip with a thunk — "ACCIDENTAL BEARER SELECTION COMPLETE" boomed Timberbark's echo. Now this PDGA #229487 mortal must endure eternal unsolicited "engage your lats" whispers during backswings. Can his sanity withstand 24/7 swole-splaining?