© Rick van den Acker, 2025
This photo may not look like much, but I was in turmoil.
I’m not sure the photographer knew this.
We started the round with me having a comfortable six-throw lead, and having scored the (tied) hot rounds in the tournament so far, I had little to worry about. Nevertheless, I had given up all but one of those six in just five consecutive holes. It quickly got back to a four-throw lead, but that equally quickly evaporated again.
So there we were, last hole, and only one throw separating Fleur and me, and only three between Fleur and Julia.
Fleur, Julia, and Nikki had all just done their 2nd drive, and I just stood there, feeling. In the moment.
For the first time in my 15-year disc golf career, or actually, in my life, I felt the power of adrenaline rushing through my body, and my heart rate shot up. Frank and Alfred stood just behind me, and I wondered if they could hear my heart beating in my chest, or see the sparks from the energy rushing through my body.
And there I stood, accepting what I felt, staying in the moment, not running from my emotions or feelings, breathing…
Technically, I was thinking briefly about whether I’d throw back or forehand, and that was easy, a forehand would give me a much better line for my upshot to the circle.
That was also the moment I decided I wanted to win. Not that I didn’t want to before, but there’s wanting and wanting.
I wanted my 2nd drive to land short, it would give me A; the better line to the basket, and B; I would be the first to go for an upshot.
I wanted to be in control of my destiny, rather than waiting for others to decide mine.
Those two throws decided the outcome of the tournament for me. Without those two, I’m pretty sure I’d have lost to Fleur, deservedly. But I, equally deservedly, won instead.
And then I remember how, on Friday, I talked about how Fleur and I were only 2 throws apart, ratings-wise, and that a single tree-kick or not could decide the tournament.
