Opinion: Less Disc Golf Valley, more actual disc golf

I grew up in a household where video games weren’t allowed – I hated this rule more than any of the others. Escaping to a buddy’s house for an overnight stay on the weekends was really the only way I could get my fix. We’d eat junk food, stay up late and play more Halo than I’m comfortable admitting. Well, I’d “attempt” to play Halo, I should probably say …

Without an Xbox of my own, I wasn’t very good. If my memory serves me, the only way I was able to nab any kills was with that blue, glowing sword – the “Energy Sword,” it was called.

I moaned. I pestered. I nagged.

Eventually, my efforts would pay off, though. The year was 2004 – Christmas Day. Under the tree, with my name on it, was a brand-new PlayStation 2 – I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

Within six months, the console was little more than a backup DVD player in the living room. Within 12, it was in the attic collecting dust alongside the rest of the Miller family’s junk.

For those of you keeping score at home:

• Parents: 500+
• Lucas: 0

Looking back, the “hard-on-video-games” stance my parents took was one of their best. It wasn’t that video games were evil – far from it, in fact. I mean, they knew I was playing them at friends’ houses – they couldn’t have cared less. They just didn’t want them in the house. As my dad grew hoarse telling me over and over (and over) again, “There are much better ways to waste time.”

He was right.

Elves, potions, goblins, mystics, wizards and whatever the heck Frodo Baggins is: I guess they’re all fine in video-game format? I mean, they’re fake – Comic-Con is as close as you’ll get. If “bringing them to life” in the virtual realm helps you unwind, more power to you … 

But disc golf?

Don't get the appeal of Disc Golf Valley …

Just can't get there with it.

— Green Splatter (@GreenSplatter) June 22, 2022

My gosh, it’s only a matter of time before EA Sports brings yawns, picnics, hiking, loitering, Sunday strolls, rock-collecting and bird-watching to “the latest video-game console near you.”

No, thank you.

If the headline wasn’t enough of a giveaway, I’m talking (ranting) about Disc Golf Valley. If you’ve yet to leave the basement these past few years, Disc Golf Valley is a gaming app created by the good folks at Latitude 64. You download it. You play it. It makes for good “toilet time.”

Allegedly, it’s fun. Fun enough, if you can believe it, for Simon Lizotte to not only play it himself, but to film himself playing it. This shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, though, as there are YouTube channels in existence for people who like to watch people watch YouTube videos – they comment on them. They’re called “reaction videos,” or something of the sort.

Here’s how I see things:

Many of disc golf’s finest selling points are obvious: Nature is great, sunshine improves mood, exercise is good for the body, etc. But what separates an actual disc golfer from a mere park-goer is the person who EXPERIENCES everything the game has to offer – the good and the bad:

• Climb a fence.
• Lose a few pricey discs.
• Discover a poison ivy allergy.
• Nearly take a pedestrian’s head off.

Don’t kid yourself: You can’t get that from a smartphone.

If you need more screen time, watch the Disc Golf Network between ACTUAL rounds of golf. Out of necessity and the day and age in which we live, your phone will command plenty of your time. When it’s not buzzing in your pocket, BE a disc golfer instead of pretending to the title.

My age might be showing, but the fact of the matter remains the same:

Disc Golf Valley is lame.

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Editor’s Suggestions:

• Review: The Lone Star Disc Armadillo
• Disc golf: What’s a thumbtrack? (and why you’ll want one)
• Don’t expect lost discs to be returned (and why that’s okay)

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