The writing in this blog is me rewriting the ball golf related material about the mental aspect of the game into disc golf terminolgy. I will always credit the original writers. I also may or may not beileive in 100% of their writing. It's something I love to do and I'm just forwarding it on to the readers.


And then we have the crusher.

Here’s the person who plays disc only to out-drive everybody else by 100 feet, the person who loves to throw a putter when everyone else is using drivers. Actually, this person isn’t really a disc golfer but a human slingshot: a projector of missiles over long distances. S/he doesn’t care all that much about scoring well. They just want it to be known that they can throw further than anyone else on the course.

There is often an electrifying aura about this kind of disc golfer, but also a pathos that escapes most people. Kind of like a fish out of water. Their natural habitat is the big open courses, where less stringent demands are made upon precision. Everyone is impressed by their Goliath-like strength, finding it incredible that any person could be using there putter for their second shot on, say, 650 foot hole. A putter is designed for touch and varied approaches to the basket, not a 400 foot drive. But the crusher throws his/her putter with the same abandon as their overstable, extra-long range driver. You can almost feel the earth shudder when the crusher moans, grunts, whips and wings their body through the motion of throwing a disc. The crusher loves to make the putter appear almost violent as it attacks the basket. They are unconcerned that the skip carried them 40 feet past the putting area. Their pleasure comes in showing everyone that they threw a putter 400 feet.

Where the pathos really shows through is when the crusher gets around the basket. S/he detests everything inside 100 feet, and especially within 30 feet of the basket. The touch it calls for revolts the crusher. The putt needing no inherent power disgusts the crusher. The person never thinks about the variables of a putt and walks to their mini and tries to slam the disc in a way that tells you that they want this nonsense over, so they can move to the next tee and prove their strength. As the crusher snatches their disc from the basket and races to the next tee in disgust, you can almost read everybody’s mind: “If this freak of nature could only putt they’d be a great player.” But somehow you know it isn’t going to be, and you almost feel sorry for the person, because it seems such a waste of talent. You know that if you could throw the disc 75 feet farther your player rating would jump 30 points or more, but you know this person’s never going to get the message. The crusher gets their kicks in other ways.

Until the process of aging catches this person, the crusher will usually always be throwing the farthest. I’ve never looked into the fate of the big crushers when they are older, but I suspect they never really change, even when arthritic degeneration won’t let them get their back twisted any more than a short approach shot.

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