The Bowring Chronicles – Episode Two: The Search Party
Welcome back to The Bowring Chronicles, the only publication brave enough to report the hard-hitting stories the mainstream media refuse to cover...
Like how a bright orange disc can completely disappear in a field of green grass.
Seriously.
Where do they go?
And more importantly...
Why does everyone immediately know it wasn't their fault?
A Brief Public Service Announcement
If you've never played disc golf before, here's something nobody tells you.
You will lose a disc.
Not might.
Not if you're unlucky.
You will.
It doesn't matter if it's fluorescent pink.
Glow-in-the-dark.
Covered in glitter.
Signed by your nan.
At some point, Bowring Park will simply look at your lovely new disc and say...
"Cheers, I'll have that."
And that's when the Bowring Search & Rescue Team swings into action.
THE GREAT SEARCH
Every lost disc follows exactly the same pattern.
Stage One: Confidence
"It's just over there."
Everyone nods.
No problem.
Thirty seconds.
Back on the tee.
Stage Two: Mild Concern
"Hmm..."
"I definitely saw it land."
People begin spreading out.
Someone points confidently in three different directions.
Nobody actually knows where it is.
But everyone is now an expert.
Stage Three: The Investigation
Now there are eight people searching.
Laura is methodically checking the obvious places.
David is scanning the fairway like he's trying to locate a crashed aircraft.
Kev is somehow filming it.
Billie-Jo has disappeared into vegetation that no sensible person would voluntarily enter.
Harley has spotted something interesting approximately thirty yards away.
Jo T is convinced she's seen the disc before.
She also thinks she recognises the bloke looking for it.
She's probably right.
Meanwhile, Ruaraidh is offering sensible advice.
"Look around where you think it landed."
Wise words.
Nobody listens.
"Cheers, Dad."
Billy wanders off.
Harley looks up.
"Grandad's right, you know."
Ruaraidh sighs.
This is his life now.
Stage Four: Acceptance
"It's gone."
Someone quietly starts walking back.
Then...
"I'VE GOT IT!"
The entire group erupts like England have just won the World Cup.
The disc is held aloft.
The owner celebrates as though they've been reunited with a long-lost relative.
Everyone cheers.
Nobody mentions the ten minutes we've just spent searching for something that was six feet away all along.
This is community.
TREE OF THE WEEK
This week's award goes to...
The tree that absolutely wasn't there last week.
We've checked.
It wasn't.
It has clearly moved.
The tree has declined to comment.
David believes it was always there.
Jo K has checked the records.
The tree is, annoyingly, innocent.
Again.
WILDLIFE WATCH
Barry the Squirrel was spotted during the search.
He watched.
He judged.
He remained completely unhelpful.
At one point he appeared to point towards the rough.
We chose to interpret this as assistance.
The disc wasn't there.
Barry has since refused to cooperate with the investigation.
KEV'S CAMERA CORNER
While the rest of us were crawling through the rough looking for someone's favourite driver...
Kev was filming.
Of course he was.
Kev has quietly become something of a legend with his social media work for the Mersey Masters stick golf tournament, alongside Laura.
And if you've seen what those two manage to get into their player packs...
We're beginning to suspect they're not actually content creators.
They're professional blaggers.
In the nicest possible way.
Nobody knows how they do it.
A smile here.
A bit of networking there.
A perfectly timed message.
And suddenly someone's player pack contains enough free stuff to make Christmas look underwhelming.
Mate, if you can get us free discs, we'll happily put you on the payroll.
THE WELCOME COMMITTEE
Meanwhile, Laura is doing what Laura does best.
Talking.
Welcoming.
Remembering names.
Making sure nobody feels like the new person for more than about thirty seconds.
She's meticulous about everything, from the organisation of a round to making sure everyone knows what's going on.
And somehow, while everyone else is throwing discs...
Laura is usually having three conversations at once.
It's a gift.
We've tried to understand it.
We've failed.
BILLIE-JO ENTERS THE ROUGH
There are people who lose a disc and stare at the rough from a safe distance.
And then there's Billie-Jo.
Kind.
Funny.
Adventurous.
And apparently completely unbothered by the possibility of being eaten alive by whatever lives under the bushes.
"I'll have a look."
And off she goes.
Five minutes later...
Nothing.
Ten minutes later...
Still nothing.
But she has discovered an interesting tree, a nice view and possibly a new species of mushroom.
The disc remains missing.
Priorities.
EXCUSE OF THE WEEK
This week's award goes to...
"I wasn't aiming there."
A timeless classic.
Simple.
Elegant.
Entirely believable.
Unlike...
"The wind moved the tree."
Nice try.
PROFESSOR HARLEY EXPLAINS
While everyone else is searching...
Harley has somehow turned the situation into a learning opportunity.
Why did the disc fly that way?
What angle was it released at?
What plastic was it?
What was the wind doing?
Does anyone actually know what they're talking about?
Harley probably does.
Child genius.
Disc golf enthusiast.
Walking encyclopaedia.
And, importantly...
Heinz Beans advocate.
We don't know how the beans became relevant.
They always do.
DAD'S CORNER
Ruaraidh is the dad of the group.
Not officially.
But nobody asked him.
He has an impressive ability to remain calm while everyone else is losing their minds.
Ultimate Frisbee Grand Master.
Even-minded.
Thoughtful.
Always ready with a word of wisdom when needed.
Or...
when it absolutely isn't.
Billy calls him Dad.
Harley calls him Grandad.
Ruaraidh has accepted his fate.
This week's wisdom?
"Don't rush the throw."
Billy:
"Sound, Dad."
Harley:
"He's right, Grandad."
Ruaraidh:
"I know."
We move on.
THE BOWRING INTELLIGENCE AGENCY
Jo T has a remarkable gift.
She knows everyone.
And if she doesn't know you...
She thinks she recognises you.
And if she doesn't recognise you...
She almost certainly knows somebody who does.
Within minutes of someone arriving, Jo T has usually established:
where they're from,
who they work with,
where they've seen them before,
and whether they might be related to someone she knows.
The rest of us call it conversation.
Jo T calls it intelligence gathering.
THE MOST DANGEROUS PHRASE IN DISC GOLF
"I'll just try something different."
No good has ever followed these words.
Ever.
It's usually followed by one of two outcomes.
Either...
The greatest shot you've ever thrown.
Or...
Your disc introducing itself to a tree at approximately 40 miles an hour.
And occasionally...
There is a third possibility.
David picks up his red Valkyrie.
Everyone takes one step backwards.
Because David doesn't really throw a disc.
He launches it.
The Red Valkyrie doesn't fly.
It goes on a little holiday.
You watch it disappear into the distance and eventually someone quietly says...
"Right. Better start walking."
BILLY'S HEALTH & SAFETY NOTICE
If Billy says...
"Watch this..."
Stand well back.
Seriously.
Not for the faint of heart.
Billy is the class clown.
As Scouse as they come.
Heart of gold.
And absolutely no interest whatsoever in whether you think what he's about to say is appropriate.
Because he's going to say it anyway.
Then he'll make everyone laugh.
Then he'll probably blame Dad.
Then...
Billy goes the bar.
It's not a phase.
It's not a suggestion.
It's simply part of the Bowring ecosystem.
THE UNWRITTEN RULES OF BOWRING
Over the months we've discovered a few truths that aren't written anywhere...
If someone throws an incredible shot...
Everyone celebrates.
If someone hits the first available tree...
Everyone laughs.
Including the person who threw it.
If someone loses a disc...
Everybody helps look.
Even Billie-Jo.
Especially Billie-Jo.
If someone has a bad hole...
Nobody cares.
Because we've all got another one coming.
And if someone is new?
We make sure they know they're welcome.
That's the bit that matters.
THE PEOPLE WHO MAKE IT HAPPEN
There's another side to Wednesday evenings that doesn't get quite as much attention.
While we're all chatting, laughing and arguing about where a disc landed...
David has already put the baskets out.
He's set up the course.
He's checked everything is ready.
He's welcoming people.
And somehow still finding time to unleash the Red Valkyrie across half of Bowring.
That's David.
The real dude.
The bloke who quietly makes Wednesday happen
WEDNESDAY THERAPY
People often ask why we keep coming back every week.
It's difficult to explain.
Disc golf is only part of it.
For a couple of hours every Wednesday, work disappears.
The emails can wait.
The housework can wait.
The shopping can wait.
Instead...
We spend an evening outside.
Walking through one of Liverpool's best parks.
Taking the mickey out of each other.
Helping strangers become mates.
Celebrating shots we'd never manage twice.
Searching for discs that have apparently entered another dimension.
Watching David launch the Red Valkyrie.
Listening to Ruaraidh's wisdom.
Watching Kev film everything.
Seeing Laura welcome another newcomer.
Following Billie-Jo into the undergrowth.
Listening to Harley explain something none of us knew we needed to know.
Watching Jo T discover that she already knows somebody.
And eventually...
Watching Billy go the bar.
Not a bad way to spend a summer evening.
BOWRING WISDOM #2
"A lost disc is never really lost... until you've bought a replacement."
Wise words.
Probably.
UNTIL NEXT TIME...
As another Wednesday disappears into another brilliant sunset, we're reminded that Bowring isn't just where we play disc golf.
It's where strangers become teammates.
Where teammates become mates.
Where terrible shots become legendary stories.
Where newcomers become regulars.
Where everyone gets applauded eventually.
Where Barry the Squirrel silently judges us all.
And where, if you listen carefully, you can almost hear the trees whisper...
"See you next week..."
"And don't forget to bring me another disc."
Until Episode Three...
Stay out of the rough.
Trust your putter.
Keep an eye on your discs.
And if nobody saw it hit the tree...
It probably didn't.
— Filed by the Completely Unqualified Correspondents of The Bowring Chronicles
Keeping Liverpool's most important disc golf news in print, one lost disc at a time.
