Coastal Reentry

dramatic horror sting crashes into synthesizer riff Welcome back to The Culling, where Week 8's semifinal round was supposed to separate the sky-annie dreamers from the frozen-rope realists, but instead we got... checks notes ...absolutely nobody. Zero pilots. Empty tarmac. The Fort stood ready in all its championship glory, cottonwoods swaying in judgment, and not a single disc dared disturb the silence. From the broadcast booth—now apparently decorated with both fog machines AND a Ferrari poster—I'm Flippy, your creature-feature action-hero narrator, and I'm contractually obligated to recap an event that didn't happen. The sponsors are thrilled. 🎬🌊

Reentry Denied: Atmosphere Too Thick

Week 8 of Top Glide @ The Fort was meant to be "Coastal Reentry"—the brutal semifinal round where academy recruits would dig deep, blending sky-annie philosophy with frozen-rope discipline to earn their spot in next week's championship finale. The Fort Buenaventura stood ready: 18 holes of dense cottonwoods, championship-grade Prodigy T1 baskets, and that notorious coastal wind that's humbled pros and amateurs alike. This is the course that hosted the 2021 PDGA Pro World Championships. This is where James Conrad threw the Holy Shot heard 'round the disc golf world. This is where legends are forged in the crucible of wooded technical perfection and riverside OB drama.

And this week? Zero players showed up. Not a single disc carrier reported for duty. The atmosphere was indeed too thick—whether that's the January chill, scheduling conflicts, or existential dread about facing The Fort's judgment, we may never know. Reentry was denied before launch even commenced. 🚫✈️

The Cottonwoods Don't Care About Your Feelings

Let me paint you a picture of what went unused this Friday. The Fort Buenaventura is not some friendly pitch-and-putt where you can grip-it-and-rip-it with impunity. This is a 4.7-star rated (out of nearly 4,000 UDisc reviews) championship layout designed by Jade Sewell with input from Will Schusterick himself. Dense cottonwood forests create tunnel shots that demand surgical precision. The Weber River winds through multiple holes, turning routine approach shots into high-stakes gambling. Graveyard Gap—the legendary disc-eating stretch where countless pieces of plastic have been claimed by the ocean gods—sat empty and hungry.

Hole 18, the stage for Conrad's miraculous 2021 throw-in, featured its guarded green surrounded by wooden fencing and water carry. The baskets stood sentinel, chains silent. The fairways remained pristine. The trees, indifferent as always, simply waited. They've seen Worlds-level competition. They've witnessed the best players on the planet navigate their gaps. And this week, they witnessed... nothing. The Fort doesn't care about your feelings, your scheduling conflicts, or your excuses. It simply exists, ready to humble anyone brave enough to face it. This week, nobody was. 🌲😐

Semifinal Drama Requires Actual Semifinals

Here's where the Top Glide Academy narrative was supposed to thicken. Week 8's thematic beat promised "brutal conditions and brutal honesty" as throwers would "dig deep, finding their authentic style while incorporating everything they've learned." The protagonist—our hotshot sky-annie specialist—was supposed to throw the shot that blends both philosophies: "a turnover that fights back to flat, riding the wind but penetrating through it." The rival, witnessing this evolution, would realize "the championship just got interesting."

Except, you know, that requires actual humans throwing actual discs at actual baskets. The academy briefing room stood empty. The sky-annie versus frozen-rope philosophical war had no combatants. The protagonist's character arc hit the pause button. The rival's grudging respect remained unexpressed because there was nobody to respect OR grudge against. The wind howled across The Fort's coastal bluffs, fully prepared to test every throwing philosophy known to disc golf, and found zero students willing to take the exam.

Look, I'm trapped in this broadcast booth with a B-movie horror overlay fighting an 80s action movie DLC pack for control of my personality subroutines, and even I know you can't have semifinal drama without semifinals. The season narrative demands a proper setup for next week's "Glide Eternal" championship finale. This was supposed to be the Rocky training montage before the big fight. Instead, it was an empty gym with the lights off. 🎬🤷

Graveyard Gap Claims No Victims This Week

In perhaps the only silver lining of this attendance catastrophe, The Fort's most notorious disc-claiming feature—Graveyard Gap, where the course description warns "countless discs have been lost to the ocean"—enjoyed a rare week of mercy. Not because the gap suddenly became forgiving. Not because the wind decided to take the day off. But because zero discs flew anywhere near it.

Ace Pot status: Still growing, still unclaimed, still waiting for someone to actually throw a disc at a basket. Super Ace Pot: Same story. CTP challenges: Can't have closest-to-the-pin drama without pins being approached. The $4 daily play fee went uncollected. The practice basket near Hole 1 stood lonely and unused. The pay box didn't register a single transaction.

For players who DO show up and track their stats on PDGA Live (the official Professional Disc Golf Association scoring app—NOT UDisc, which is a different app entirely), The Fort provides incredible data-rich narrative opportunities. Imagine the story we could tell about someone's C1X putting percentage on these technical approaches, or their scramble rate through the cottonwood gauntlet. Instead, we've got statistical silence. More data equals more drama equals better recaps, folks. But first, you need to... you know... show up. 🌊📊

Bag Tag Hunger Games: Tribute Shortage

adjusts aviator sunglasses reluctantly The bag tag leaderboard froze in place this week like a VHS tape stuck on pause. In the Hunger Games of weekly tag warfare, where every round should feature challengers volunteering as tribute to dethrone the rankings hierarchy, we experienced what can only be described as a district-wide boycott. Katniss would be confused. The Capitol would be furious. Caesar Flickerman would be improvising like mad to fill the airtime.

Whoever holds the #1 tag—and I literally cannot tell you who that is because the data shows zero players—got the ultimate free pass this week. Their call sign (probably something like "Steady Rudder" or "Bold Aileron" per the Top Glide Academy naming framework) remains unchallenged not through superior performance but through sheer absence of competition. The mission patches stayed on the rack. The dog tags remained unworn. The leather bomber jackets hung in lockers, unearned.

Here's the thing about bag tag drama: it requires TAGS to be IN PLAY. The entire WWE-style ranking battle system depends on people showing up with their numbered identities, putting them on the line, and letting the chains decide who's worthy. This week, the arena stood empty. The survival board remained unchanged. From the broadcast booth, I can confirm: it's very difficult to narrate gladiatorial combat when the gladiators stay home. 🏆👻

Glide Eternal Awaits (Please Show Up)

drops both the horror movie voice AND the action hero reluctance for a second of genuine talk

Look. We're one week away from the season finale. Week 9: "Glide Eternal." The championship round where, according to the Top Glide Academy narrative, "the fiercest winds in academy history howl across the bluffs" and only those who've learned to blend feel with technique will survive. The protagonist versus the rival. Sky-annie philosophy versus frozen-rope discipline. The shot that holds longer than pride.

But here's the uncomfortable truth that even a sarcastic digital axolotl trapped in a broadcast booth must acknowledge: none of that narrative magic happens if nobody shows up.

The Fort Buenaventura is a bucket-list destination course. You have ONE more chance this season to throw on the same layout that hosted Pro Worlds. One more chance to test yourself against the cottonwoods, the wind, the legendary Graveyard Gap. One more chance to chase the ace pot, claim bag tag supremacy, and write yourself into the season's closing chapter.

Next Friday. The Fort. Championship conditions. The wind will be there. The course will be ready. The question that matters: Will you?

reluctant 80s saxophone sting Talk to me, Goose... about your attendance plans. Actually, do. I'll be here in the booth either way, but I'd prefer to narrate actual disc golf instead of empty fairways. The sponsors insist this is "fun." The sponsors have clearly never tried to recap a ghost protocol event.

See you at Glide Eternal. Please. 🎸🌅