There’s a special place in hell for ‘disc charger’ artists

Back in April, Lucas wrote about the Halo Polecat being “one of the dumbest things in disc golf.” I don’t care if he’s my boss – he was dead wrong then, and he’s dead wrong now. Listen, by no means is the Polecat a godsend, but there are CLEARLY dumber things in our sport …

I’ll see your Polecat and raise you a “disc charger.”

And pump the brakes on your self-righteousness for a hot (pun intended) second: I don’t really think people who believe in disc chargers are going to hell – purgatory, yes, but hell? Eh …

Probably not.

Regardless of your views on the “weeping, moaning and gnashing of teeth” (queue Kanye), those things are annoying – disc chargers, I mean. In fact, I’d put the people who dot disc golf’s most impressive courses with ‘em right up there with peeps who abandon shopping carts in parking lots: Their time is far too precious; they simply don’t have 30 seconds to spare for decency

They’ve probably got the President on speed dial, such is their widespread influence.

DGPT: The 2021 MVP Open at Maple Hill

I feel the EXACT same way about the “artists” who draw disc chargers on courses.

If you’re in the dark on this one, a disc charger is a circle, usually with text along the lines of, “Charge disc here” written inside of it. The circle’s made from tracing an actual disc with a Sharpie. You find them on picnic tables, teepads and benches. The “belief” is that, before throwing, you place your disc inside of it to summon the spirit of Ed Headrick

Or any other kind of mystical mumbo-jumbo.

The alleged result is a good throw.

If you’ve never seen one, keep your eyes peeled – they’re everywhere.

Here’s why their creation is worthy of never-ending fire and brimstone:

  • Sin No. 1 – Nature is beautiful in and of itself – it doesn’t need you to spice it up.
  • Sin No. 2 – Disc chargers serve no purpose. They LITERALLY do nothing but suck.
  • Sin No. 3 – They’re supposed to be funny, and they are – if you’re about five years old.

I’ve got beef with plenty of people within the disc golf community: Litterers, unleashed dogs, Mr. Five-Off-the-Tee, groups of 10-plus golfers and dudes blaring System of a Down at scenic, wooded courses on Saturday mornings are ALL driving me to an early grave, I’m certain …

None of them, however, compare to the creators of the Devil’s delight: the disc charger.

Put the pen away: Your salvation is at stake.

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Taylor Larsen

Taylor Larsen is a staff writer for Green Splatter. He uses disc golf to self-reflect, pondering questions like, "Where the heck did I throw that?" and "What happens if the disc lands on top of the basket?" He resides in Utah with his dog, Banks, who loves to chase frisbees of all sorts.

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