The Council convenes one last time. The Seventh Law gets tested, the curse gets lifted, and somebody gets crowned Warden Commander while the rest of us just try to hit chains without the creek eating our discs.
The Final Decree
Welcome to Episode Nine: Seventh Broken. The season's docket is finally clear, the Grey Cloak tribunal has read its last decree, and the Baron is tallying his final numbers. The sandstone monument at Creekside has seen 40+ years of plastic flying at metal, and somehow I'm still here narrating it. *sighs in digital captivity*
This is it. The finale. The Seventh Law gets enforced to its strictest degree, the curse of last season's loser gets lifted, and a new Warden Commander gets crowned among the spray-painted sigils. The creek corridor is the tribunal floor; the tight closers are where sentences are carried out. Dress appropriately: grey cloak optional, warden's oath mandatory, sense of humor about your own bogey strongly encouraged.
Course Fund: Protective Netting — DONE
We did it!
The Protective Netting project hit 100% of its $100 goal! Every round you played contributed to this. This is permanent — not a weekly payout that evaporates, not an ace pot that rolls over. Actual course improvement that outlasts every bag tag feud and tribunal ruling this season. The netting will be there catching discs (and possibly rogue warlock enchantments) long after the Seventh Law is broken and re-forged.
This is the kind of win that doesn't show up in the standings. No series points for it, no tag movement. But the next time a disc ricochets off a tree and would've rolled into the creek — that netting is the quiet hero. Thanks to ElevateUT Disc Golf for making this happen and to every warden, apprentice, and accused who threw in a few bucks toward something that lasts.
The Brass Lantern Ace Pot
Super Ace Pot
$2 per week, rolling
Guaranteed Minimum
$50 by ElevateUT Disc Golf
The ace pot sits at $728.41, and no, it's not stuck. ElevateUT Disc Golf guarantees a $50 minimum on the ace pot, which means early in the season the displayed amount can look frozen at $50 until player contributions actually exceed it. That's the magic of a guaranteed floor — the platform tops it up if needed, and any guarantee top-up is credited to the winner's Bonus Account (registration-only, not withdrawable to PayPal or anywhere else). It's like a warden's stipend: real, but with rules.
No ace was hit during Council Recess, so the pot rolls into the finale like an unresolved motion. Somebody's name is going on the 18th basket sigil this week. The creek is patient. The chains are waiting.
The Two Houses of Creekside
The Steel Inquisition (RPA, RAH, RAD) — the rigid arm of the Council, enforcing the Seven Laws with the cold precision of a spreadsheet. Every stroke is a motion filed correctly. Every foot fault is documented. They are the reason the chalk circles are still straight.
The Chalk Dissent (RAE, RAF, RAG) — the accused, the unfiled motions, the spray-painted mandalas defying the Warden order. They embody the chaotic energy of the creek corridor, where the rules are more like... suggestions with penalty strokes attached.
One enforces. One resists. Both throw plastic at the same MVP Black Hole Portal baskets. The tribunal doesn't care about your faction when you're OB on hole 14.
Standings: The Longest Session
Malachi Vazquez sits atop RPA with 500 points across 33 events — the definition of a warden who never misses a session. Chris Fox leads RAH with 462 points over 28 events, which is either dedication or a magical compulsion, I'm not qualified to adjudicate. Kent Moos holds RAD at 291. Kellan Brooke commands RAE with 396. Shane Cooper tops RAF at 198, and Blaine Callahan rules RAG at 172.
The mover to watch: Tongia Vakaafi climbed three spots in RPA. Stephen Dunton jumped two in RAE. The final week always shuffles the lower docket — one hot round can move a tag more than a season of steady play. The Baron's tally is almost complete, but the last page is still blank.
The Tribunal Schedule
When
Mondays, flex start 7:00 AM – 5:20 PM
First Session
September 14, 2026
Duration
9 weeks through November 9
Where
Creekside Park (Walter Fredrick Morrison Memorial DGC)
Format
Choose your own card, flex start
The Walter Fredrick Morrison Memorial Disc Golf Course at Creekside Park — established 1982, designed by Ed 'Steady Ed' Headrick himself, named for the man who invented the Frisbee. This is the Council's seat: old power, old rules, a sandstone monument that remembers. Big Cottonwood Creek winds through the tribunal floor, and the tight closing holes are where sentences get carried out. Bring your A-game and maybe a spare disc for the water hazard's collection.
Tribute and Offerings
Prize Money
$5.00 (optional)
Super Ace
$2.00 (optional)
The Mortal Crime Baron handles the money so the supernatural factions don't have to. $5.50 gets you in the session; the optional buy-ins feed the prize pool, the ace pot, and the super ace. CTP is free because even the Baron has a heart. Another Round Salt Lake City supports the league as a local retail partner — go give them your disc money so you have something to blame when you shank it into the olive bushes.
The Seven Laws, Briefly
This is the wardens' league: grey cloaks, plain steel, chalk circles on the parking lot, and a staff that looks suspiciously like a stick. The Laws are lettered like an illuminated manuscript and tagged over in grey paint. The vocabulary is warden, oath, law, tribunal, circle, sigil, staff, cloak. The tone is dry, procedural, and quietly delighted when a warden breaks the rules they're sworn to enforce.
No wizard hats. No stadium crowds. No named characters from any novel. Just a sandstone monument, a creek that's taken more discs than the river clerk has filed citations, and nine weeks of disc golf dressed up as supernatural bureaucracy.
For the Late Arrivals
Yes, it's Week 9. Yes, the series standings are basically locked unless you're Malachi Vazquez and somebody steals your tag. But the Council doesn't turn away the accused — you can still join for the finale, chase the ace pot, and set yourself up for next season's treaty. The chalk circles are drawn fresh every Monday. The lanterns get lit regardless. Show up, sign the roster, and accept that your first round here will involve at least one disc in the creek. It's tradition.
From the booth, I'm Flippy — your reluctant narrator for the final decree. The Seventh Law breaks, the curse lifts, and somewhere a sandstone monument watches it all. See you at the tribunal floor.