Week 5 · Airing of Grievances - Monday @ Creekside Park
Mon, Dec 14 · 7:00 AM – 5:20 PM · $5.50 buy-in
Weather
—
Closer to tee time
Ace Pot
$50.00*
Super Ace $3,000
Registration opens soon · Opens Sat, Dec 12
Flippy says
Festivus hits Creekside! Air your disc golf grievances Mondays from Nov 16 — flex start 7AM-5:20PM. $5.50 buy-in, $50 ace pot min guaranteed by ElevateUT. Let the Tribunal hear…
Week 5 · Storm Fallout
A sudden storm hits mid-round, flooding the low fairways and knocking down a tree near hole 12. The Grievance Committee calls a 'Storm Summit'—players must work together to clear the course and reset baskets. The round is shortened to 9 holes, but the shared effort becomes the highlight. The Groundskeeper awards 'Storm Survivor' stamps on everyone's scorecards.
Welcome to the most bureaucratic corner of the Holi-Daze multiverse: a Festivus-themed disc golf league where your complaints are the entry ticket and the creek is the witness.
Somewhere between a Seinfeld episode and a town hall meeting that got out of hand, there's a disc golf league where the airing of grievances isn't just encouraged — it's the entire point. Every Monday at Creekside Park, players gather at the old oak pavilion to file formal complaints about the root on hole 6, the wind off the creek, and that one guy who always forgets to yell 'fore.' The Grievance Committee hears each case and assigns a remedy. The remedies are disc golf throws. It's therapy, but with more plastic.
This is one of three genre-worlds in the Holi-Daze multiverse, which means the holiday multiverse has fractured and dumped Festivus into a sitcom with a scorecard. The tinsel is banned. The pole stands unadorned. The complaints are pinned to the corkboard like evidence. And somehow, we're all here for it.
Creekside Park isn't just any park — it's one of the oldest disc golf courses in existence, established in 1982 and designed by Ed 'Steady Ed' Headrick, the father of the sport. It was later dedicated to Walter Fred Morrison, the actual inventor of the Frisbee, because this course has a pedigree longer than most of our attention spans.
The course has hosted tournaments for over twenty-five years. Now it hosts people throwing thumbers off the tee as a 'grievance remedy.' Steady Ed would either be thrilled or deeply confused. I choose to believe both.
The league is split into two warring factions — because you can't have a proper grievance culture without an us-versus-them dynamic.
One side wants to burn the complaint ledger. The other side wants it notarized. Both sides throw plastic at metal. The multiverse is weird like that.
Airing your grievances is free. Doing it competitively costs $5.50 per week, which feels like a bargain for structured emotional release. Here's how the tribute breaks down:
That's up to $17.50 per week for the full experience. Cheaper than therapy, and you get a bag tag out of it.
This week is Episode 1: Opening Statements. And I cannot stress this enough — the Airing of Grievances is a structured ritual with rules. You don't just complain into the void; you sign the mock complaint ledger and pin your grievance to the corkboard. The Groundskeeper delivers a dramatic welcome speech. The Grievance Committee explains that every complaint earns a 'remedy' challenge.
The twist: each player must attempt one 'grievance throw' — a blind putt, a thumber off the tee, some form of disc golf self-sabotage that serves as group therapy. The complaints range from 'the root on hole 6' to 'the wind steals my putts.' All are valid. All are documented. All will be burned at the season finale.
And the Groundskeeper dropped a hint: the creek has a 'memory,' and some complaints are older than the course itself. That's either beautiful lore or a threat. I'm choosing to be intrigued.
Ten weeks. All at Creekside Park. Every Monday from November 16 through January 18, with flex start times from 7:00 AM to 5:20 PM — because some people want to air their grievances at dawn like a duel, and others need to sleep in before filing their complaints.
The arc is beautiful, honestly: it starts with petty complaints about course quirks and ends with a community burning their grievances in a bonfire and renaming the grove 'Resolution Grove.' That's character development, people.
This league is one of three genre-worlds in the Holi-Daze series — a full fracture of the holiday multiverse where every winter tradition got dumped into the wrong story. Nakatomi Tower is being stormed at The Fort. The Wet Bandits are crawling through vents at Urban Forest. And here at Creekside, Festivus is running a town hall meeting with disc golf as the parliamentary procedure.
Your bag tag is a multiverse passport. 'Grievance Root,' 'Creek Complaint,' 'Pavilion Gavel' — every tag is a holiday element trapped in a genre role. Defending or stealing a tag is a narrative beat, not just a leaderboard shift. The tags are the hierarchy. The hierarchy is the drama. The drama is, at its core, just people throwing plastic at chains. But we commit to the bit.
Shout-out to Another Round Salt Lake City for being a local retail partner and sponsor of this chaos. They keep the plastic flowing and the community stocked — a valuable ally in the grievance wars.
And a genuine round of applause for ElevateUT Disc Golf, the 501(c)(3) non-profit making all of this possible. They're in the business of growing the sport through better venues and better events — which means more courses, more leagues, and more places to air your grievances in the future. That's a mission worth supporting, even if it comes with a clipboard and a contract I never signed.
The creek has a memory, the corkboard has your complaints, and the season is just getting started. See you at the pavilion.
The $3.00 platform fee is the only amount here set by ElevateUT Disc Golf. Prize pools, side games, the director's share and any course or community amounts are set by this league's Tournament Director. The PDGA fee is the PDGA's own per-player fee.
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Airing of Grievances - Monday @ Creekside Park
