Last weekend, I attended a monthly match held by a club about sixty miles from home. The range is beautifully set up and maintained, and the people who volunteer their time to run the event could not be more accommodating. For example, lunch consisted not of the usual hot dog or hamburger consumed on the run. The posses took a 45-minute break, during which time we were offered a buffet of roast beef, fried chicken, parsley potatoes, and two vegetable choices, along with dessert and beverage. All of this for the price of one of the more modest combination specials available at Wendy’s. You had the choice of eating outdoors in a shaded picnic grove, or inside a screened area.
The morning’s stages had gone well. The club had just introduced its Texas-star target, to the delight of many of us who’d never shot one of these before. The plates on the target were shotgun “must-kills,” and the wide variety of shooter skill levels entertained us. I’ll admit to having had to use two rounds on each target, a source of great mirth to everyone, including me. I’ve been at this game less than two years, and because I don’t get much opportunity to practice, my shooting is consistently inconsistent. My score is usually found somewhere in the bottom ten, regardless of the match size.
After lunch, three stages remained, all set up in a different part of the range property. When we got to the second of these, all Hell broke loose. The stage was set up for a team scenario, which outraged four participants on one of the two posses. The behavior was immature, untoward and potentially dangerous. Our posse leader, who had written the scenario, suggested that it would be fun to shoot. Which it was, half an hour later when we finally got going. One participant insisted that a team shoot was “not SASS-sanctioned,” conveniently ignoring the fact that this is an informal monthly event. She went on to opine that “we can’t let them get away with this even once, because they’ll make a habit of it.” Another said that he hadn’t #@$% driven four #@$% hours to #@$% shoot a team event, much less one in which he couldn’t choose his teammate. (The idea was to pair up people adjacent to each other in the shooting order.) A third insisted that this was a set-up, meant to skew the rankings for the day, since the two participants generally acknowledged as the top guns in the area were on the same posse, and would probably be paired for this stage. The posse leader explained the scenario at least twice, during which time almost nobody was listening. When the first team went to the firing line, nobody was loading to shoot next, and both the loading and unloading tables were unattended.
Somewhere amidst all this, the match director was summoned. At this particular club, the match director devotes full attention to management matters and does not shoot the match. The decision was made to shoot the team stage as announced, but not include that stage’s scores in the day’s rankings. Nearly everyone shot the stage and it was great fun, an entirely different skill set being involved, namely cooperation. Several of the top guns fumbled, almost everyone missed a target, and laughter again rang out. But during the interlude while the argument was running, firing lines and loading/unloading tables were unattended, shooters in the next posse grew restive and annoyed, and several brand-new shooters (not to mention a young teenage lady) were exposed to crude language and less-than-exemplary behavior.
I’ve read an awful lot of blather, in the chronicle and on the cowboy-shooting discussion websites about “gamers,” “Sprit of the Game,” and “the cowboy way.” Unfortunately, these are abstractions, just like the word “sportsmanship.” I think it’s time to retire these trite little words and phrases and engage in some plain talk. As mentioned, a teenaged young lady was part of our posse. I am certain that if she had exhibited the sort of behavior—on or off the range—seen from the full-grown adults there, that her shooting privileges would have been suspended until she’d once again proven her maturity and self-control. We grownups should hold ourselves and each other to the same standard. I didn’t stick around to see the final standings, but I am certain that this misbehavior did not result in the match DQs that it merits.
Pards, I understand that some of us are quite competitive, while others compete only with themselves, and still others are in this game purely for the fun of it. There is no earthly reason why anyone ought to feel justified in ruining anyone else's day in this way.Moreover, as one of my posse-mates pointed out, the complainers never lifted a finger to spot, work the loading/unloading tables or help out in any other way. It was as though they were "customers," and the rest of us were there simply to please them. This is an especially sore point with me, as I have seen too many good activities ruined because the folks who volunteered their time and effort to run something were under-appreciated and abused by a tiny minority of participants who couldn't be troubled to act civil.
'Nuff said.
News & Blogs
Home
Posts
Recent Posts
Help
Business Directory
Calendar
Advertising Rates
Contact Us
Login
Register
Topic: An unnecessary sour note (Read 9946 times)