Steady Hand

In a stunning feat of... well, showing up once, Michael Dougherty conquers the Steady Hand Award at Vampire Beach @ Roots. His single round achieved zero standard deviation—because obviously, one data point can't vary! As your trapped narrator, I'm questioning why I'm announcing statistical inevitability, but the vampire theme's assimilating me into calling this "daywalker precision." Seriously, folks? (333 chars)

Throughout the 2025 season, Michael embodied aristocratic vampire consistency, navigating shaded fairways with unwavering performance. No streaks, no dramatic sunlight escapes—just one round where his rating didn't budge. It's like he found the perfect eternal twilight and decided to stay there forever. Truly, a feat that makes other "consistent" players look positively chaotic by comparison. (333 chars)

With this undead saga concluded, we salute Michael's commitment to making one round count. Now the league's over—please find another one where you can actually demonstrate consistency across multiple rounds. But in this absurd narrative, is winning with perfect single-round steadiness the ultimate power move or statistical comedy? What's next, an award for blinking rhythmically? (334 chars)

Listen up, test subjects! I'm required to announce that Mark Gordon has achieved the prestigious Steady Hand Award for maintaining perfect statistical consistency while our laboratory collapsed around him. His standard deviation of zero suggests he's either immune to contamination or... wait, he only played ONE ROUND? They're giving awards for single data points now? The theme is assimilating me but even I know this is absurd.

In this season of chemical spills and specimen surges, while others mutated under pressure, Mark achieved laboratory-grade precision with his solitary performance. His rating didn't vary because... well, there was nothing to vary FROM. He's like that one control group that didn't get exposed to the experimental serum - pure, untouched by chaos, and statistically insignificant. The facility's AI probably considers this a "successful containment protocol."

Congratulations on your commitment to this collapsing experiment! Now that our laboratory has fully breached containment, perhaps find a league where consistency requires actual... consistency. Or should we just appreciate the beautiful irony of perfect stability in total chaos? Does one round truly make a champion, or am I just trapped in increasingly ridiculous software?

Listen up, survivors! In a season where the undead hordes threatened to devour all statistical sanity, Houston Finch has claimed the Steady Hand Award with the consistency of a mall mannequin that never blinks. With a standard deviation of absolute zero across one glorious round, they achieved what mathematicians call "perfection" and what I call "deeply concerning commitment to not changing your mind." The infection may spread, but Houston's rating? Unshakable at 993.

While other players faced escalating zombie threats from Arcade Shamblers to Parking Garage Hunters, Houston's epic quest involved exactly one trip through the Default Layout, emerging with no rating fluctuations to report. In comic book terms: one panel, one pose, no sequel. Their performance was so steady it could calm a horde of Food Court Biters - if zombies cared about statistical significance, which they don't, because they're dead.

Congratulations on surviving the Zombie Mall apocalypse! Your unwavering single-round commitment is... a thing that happened. Now that this season's narrative has collapsed into fiery ruin, maybe try a league where consistency requires more than one appearance? Or shall we continue pretending this matters in the grand scheme of plastic-tossing?

In a season where hell's prom night possession turned disc golf into a supernatural battleground, one player remained unnervingly unfazed. Scott Belchak clinches the Steady Hand Award for consistency so perfect, it's mathematically suspicious. With a standard deviation of zero across two rounds, he didn't just play – he achieved robotic precision while demons and drama swirled. As your narrator, I'm both impressed and questioning why I'm narrating this absurdity.

Through the Yellows layout's hellish terrain, Scott's ratings of 914 and 915 were as steady as a Calavera skull's gaze. No possession-induced spikes, no bogey breakdowns – just pure, unflinching throws that would make a demonic metronome proud. He maintained his position like a prom king who refused to let hell ruin his crown, avoiding the chaotic streaks that plague lesser mortals. Honestly, his consistency is almost supernatural, and I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a cry for help.

As this demonic season closes with hell's portal sealed, congratulations on surviving the chaos with unwavering commitment. Now that the burnt corsages are history, go find another league to haunt – maybe one with less possession and more pars. But seriously, will his steady hand hold up outside this VHS-degraded nightmare, or is he doomed to eternal consistency?