This was my first year competing in the Urban Open, having gone as a spectator last year to support fellow leaguers and to get sweet, sweet content for this verysame blog. And while attending without participating is fun (ask me about my middle school dance experiences!), attending and participating is the...more fun.
I have never thrown anything other than a regular match, so I didn't do any of the tourneys outside of Sunday's Open. That being said, I did arrive Saturday morning to watch the festivities and to get some interviews/commentary/hugs in the books. I won't bore you with an actual event report - you can get those from other places, and chances are those reports will be more accurate and interesting than whatever I do here.
What I wanna write about, specifically, is how amazing this axe tourney is in regards to community and value.
SHRIMPS IS BUGS. AXE THROWING IS COMMUNITY.
Now, I don't think I'm gonna blow anyone's mind by saying that the axe throwing community, when taken as a whole, is pretty amazing. We as throwers make lasting, meaningful friendships with people we may otherwise never get a chance to hang out with. We celebrate each other successes, look after each other, and (again, as a sweeping statement) want to make sure we're all having the best time possible.
But there is something about the Urban Open that turns that up to 11. Even more, I'd say, than IATC. For whatever reason, the Urban Open shines a real spotlight on the love & care we have for each other, whether we see each other every week during league or only once or twice a year.
Let me give a few examples, here:
I was around some of the best throwers in the world, and I didn't feel like they were any more or less important than me/other throwers. We were all just throwers.
Every single time I nervously smiled at someone, they smiled back.
People were cheering for each other without knowing each other. Strangers clapped when I lost my second match like they were my gottdamn parents.
THE AFTERPARTY AT SHARKY'S
I'm not one for social events. Point in fact, I generally feel the worst about myself when I'm at a party. I think it's a mix of a low self worth and how loud it all is. My little ears! So sensitive!
But I was push-pulled into the afterparty by my host Nikolai (AND EVEN IN THAT - HE AND MEGAN OFFERED TO GIVE ME A HOUSE KEY SO I COULD RUN AWAY WHENEVER I LIKED), and I decided to give it a try.
Friends. Dear readers.
I get it. I get it.
The amount of comradery and love in that bar was off the charts. I walked past so many conversations where people were singing the praise of the person they were speaking to. Hell, more people than I know in my personal life stopped me to tell me how much they enjoyed my blog.
And then - and I want to be respectful of how much of this I share (as it's not my story), I got to watch as a singular, wonderful person in the axe throwing community was recognized by the very community they helped create. I felt so honored and lucky to see it happen, and I don't think I'll soon forget it. It was freaking magic, dear reader.
AN IMPORTANT NOTE, HERE:
At one point, I gave my little Camp Pix camera to Nikolai and he went banana-nuts with it. It started with, I dunno, 60 pictures. After he was done, it had 312. I didn't know what exactly to do with all those pictures, so here they are. A few notes: this is a camera that mimics what digital photos looked like in 2001, and The Russian Viking was drinking. So take what you will. ALSO fair note: there are male nipples somewhere in this series. Be warned.
FINDING THE SPARKS
But that's the thing, I think: it's easy to skip over all of the special, not-axe-throwing things that happen in the sport. And, for me, the Urban Open was a real chance to get a glimpse into all those little moments and really celebrate them. I couldn't care less about how I did in the actual tourney (dear reader: not well. 0-2, though I threw very well for myself, and loved it), if only because the experience of being around so many lovely axe throwers was really the reward.
There's a very real shift that can happen in axe throwing - one where your throwing hits a plateau or you don't do as well as you think you should - and there are just as many real, effective ways to get out of that quagmire. But for me? The recharge and rededication comes from hearing from/seeing/engaging with the community itself. The Urban Open revitalized me in my excitement around where the sport is going, and where I'm going in the sport.
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