Disc golf: The only foot fault I call without shame

“Shame” isn’t the right word. Because if I were doing things the correct way, I’d call every foot fault I see during competitive play, regardless of how negatively others might perceive me.

But I don’t.

So if there’s shame to be had, it’d be for NOT being a more strict enforcer of the rules – foot faults, more specifically – during sanctioned rounds. If anything, I suppose letter-of-the-law adherence is something to be proud of. I’m a work in progress – cut me some slack on this.

Still, in my fallen, temporal mind, there are tiers to foot faults. For the sake of the card’s “good vibes” and given the sorry quality of the amateurs against whom I rightfully compete, I tend to shy away from sounding the alarm on most of them. My gut says they do the same for me.

This would include stepping slightly past a mini on a mid-fairway approach that requires some sort of run-up. I’ve looked the other way on a guy blatantly stepping off the front of the teepad when driving. And, on occasion, someone’s toe will graze their mini when throwing a standstill upshot. This isn’t Maple Hill. There are no measurable advantages. These are honest mistakes.

In the future, should I grow a pair, I might say something. And heck, if someone else on the card does, I’m happy to have their back, should things get heated – I’m committed to the cause.

But for now?

Left to my own devices?

*** Crickets ***

However, there is ONE type of foot fault that simply won’t allow me to keep my big, fat mouth shut. It can occur on the putting green, but more often than not, it takes place in the thick of the woods with a miraculous shot needed to advance the disc either up the fairway or near the pin.

This is scramble territory.

To refresh your memory, behind your mini or previously thrown disc, you’ve got a rectangle that’s 20 cm wide and 30 cm deep in which you can place your plant foot at the time the disc leaves your hand. That’s roughly the size of a standard piece of printer paper, by the way.

Caught in the nasty, what grinds my gears is when a disc golfer gets creative with his plant foot, clearly bringing it outside of the permitted area in order to gain a competitive advantage. And for whatever reason: The line’s clearer, it’s easier to reach the basket or there are less obstacles in the way. In many cases, a tiny shift of the foot can make an already tricky throw more comfortable.

To set the record straight, I’ve only made the call on this three times in my D.G. career, so it’s not like I’m the second coming of Ángel Hernández or anything. In fact, before making one of those calls, I informed the cardmate in question that his stance wasn’t right – that it was illegal.

• He blew me off.
• The call was made.
• And he was shocked.

Shocked!

Here’s my beef in more bullet points:

• This is egregious.
• This is slow motion.
• This is easy to avoid.

Should YOU be the guy with complicated footing, and you’re concerned you might be stretching the limits of what that piece of “printer paper” offers, ask your cardmates if you’re good to go. 

Acting as designated officials, more often than not, they’ll point you in the right direction. Disregard the rules entirely, though, and you’re likely to get pinged by someone for it …

At least if I’m on the card.

Sorry.

Not sorry.

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