You know what? I'm tired of pretending like I care about this sport. Giving helpful advice, meeting people - helping this community grow and celebrate itself - ugh!
So it's time for the veneer to come off and for me to reveal my true nature. It's October, after all, the season of masks and spoopy-boops. So here I am, dear reader, with your ultimate guide on how to ruin axe leagues.
STEP 1: TAKE IT SO SERIOUSLY
This is a big one. The longest-burning step to take, but so important: take all of axe throwing super seriously. After all, your entire life hinges around whether you hit a piece of steel into a piece of wood the way you wanted, right? So when you mess up (Uh, I mean, when something else messes you up, right?! like the Earth shifted or your competitor made noise or someone behind you had the nerve to breathe), make sure everyone around you knows you're peeved. Enjoyment? Heh - that's for novices. You're here to make sure your Collins rating stays numbered and your average stays above 75.
STEP 2: BE EXCLUSIVE
Axe throwing, speaking in generalities, has a reputation for being a welcoming, inclusive space. People are quick to consider each other friends, and are just as quick to bring people into the fold, if given the opportunity.
But that's gonna stop with you. Right?
Make sure to not invite casual throwers to join league. Don't get your non-axe-throwing friends to try it out. Never associate with any axe thrower outside of your local league. Yeah. This is your hill, and you're gonna die on it. Alone.
STEP 3: DON'T PARTICIPATE
Axe leagues are, of course, great for axe throwing. But some absolute silly geese decided axe leagues would also be good for pot lucks and parties and special themed events and fundraisers and whatever else. Ugh. Building inter-dependent, multi-faceted communities is dumb.
Instead, you should just go to axe league, throw, and leave. Just like that. Don't even make eye contact if you can avoid it. Hell, maybe don't even talk to whoever you're throwing against. You're there to throw a match, and if you could do it by yourself against some mute, cloned version of you, you would.
STEP 4: DON'T SUPPORT ANYONE ELSE
Look at these happy idiots. Clapping for each other. Getting excited by each other's success. Fostering growth and support. Like, wake up, sheeple. This is a serious sport for serious throwers who can't let emotions like empathy or kindness get in the way of glory. So no thanks to clapping when a new thrower hits a clutch. Celebrate an 81? Why don't you celebrate a bird that "successfully" flew into a window, while you're at it?
You're here for you.
If people want to get a round of applause for doing something well, I guess they understand why people applaud in the first place. Which is exactly that reason I mentioned, I guess.
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