Emerging Sports as Social Movements: Disc Golf and the Rise of an Unknown Sport 3030764567, 9783030764562

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Emerging Sports as Social Movements Disc Golf and the Rise of an Unknown Sport Joshua Woods

Emerging Sports as Social Movements

Joshua Woods

Emerging Sports as Social Movements Disc Golf and the Rise of an Unknown Sport

Joshua Woods Department of Sociology and Anthropology, 307 Knapp Hall West Virginia University Morgantown, WV, USA

ISBN 978-3-030-76456-2    ISBN 978-3-030-76457-9 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-76457-9 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Cover illustration: Leena Robinson / Alamy Stock Photo This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG. The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

For the volunteers.

Acknowledgments

Writing is hard. Writing a whole book is really hard. Finishing this one would not have happened without a lot of help. Big thanks go to my friend and sounding board Kevin Kunz. He and I discovered disc golf together and played at least once a week since 2013. I want to thank my wife, Jill, and daughter, Jordan. They supported me, even when I droned on about disc golf, sociology, and sometimes both at the same time. My deep gratitude goes to Matthew Hartwell, who helped with data collection and analysis for the book and co-authored one of its chapters. Elizabeth Boycan and Josh Sweeney also deserve thanks for providing research support. I was also fortunate to work with Jeralynn Cossman and Julia Wolf on a research project related to disc golf course locations. My recent career transition from studying terrorism to studying emerging sports would not have been possible without encouraging colleagues, such as Adam Dasari, Daniel Renfrew, Jesse Wokniak, Jim Nolan, Karen Weiss, Rachel Stein, Tyler Dupont, and Christopher Oliver. I wish to convey appreciation to West Virginia University and the Department of Sociology and Anthropology for giving me the opportunity to work on this book. My gratitude also goes to the readers of my disc golf blog Parked. What began as a hobby in late 2016 gradually found a readership, landed an Innovation Grant from the Professional Disc Golf Association (PDGA), and put out 110 articles over a five-year period. I am most grateful to the writers, photographers, and artists who contributed their work to Parked. They include Vic Allen, Valarie Jenkins, Robert Hooker, Rebecca Burton, Lauren E. Lakeberg, Kristian Vernegaard, Kingsley Flett, Kaycee Glattke, Kari Toivonen, Jill Woods, Jim Palmeri, Jesse Wright, James McDonald, vii

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Dillan Carr, Dee Leekha, John Mola, Coltin Calloway, Chris McDowell, Chris Bawden, Brian Wells, Boyce McCoy, Bill Newman, Bill Flynn, Ben Owens, Bailey Mareu, Asbjørn B.V.  Hauberg, Alex Colucci, and Adam Snavely. I am indebted to the PDGA for supporting Parked and providing multiple data sets for this book. I learned much of what I know about the disc golf movement by interviewing disc golfers, interacting with them online through Parked and related social media, talking to people face-to-face, working with the PDGA, and collaborating with other disc golf media. It would be impossible to thank everyone who provided helpful information or influenced my thinking about disc golf, but among them are J. Gary Dropcho, Steve Hill, Steve Dodge, Steve Ganz, Shelby Dering, Seth Munsey, Sean Jack, Sascha Vogel, Sarah Hokom, Rick Rothstein, Rebecca Burton, Phil Burton, Pete Crist, Nick Buysse, Mike Plansky, Mahmoud Bahrani, Madison Walker, Justin Menickelli, Leah Tsinajinnie, Jussi Meresmaa, Josh Smith, Philo Brathwaite, Josh Lichti, Johnny Sias, John Houck, Joe Feidt, Jeremy Koling, Jenny San Filippo, Jeff Spring, Jason Lee, Sara Nicholson, Greg Hackett, Dan “Stork” Roddick, Charlie Eisenhood, Brian Hoeniger, Brian Graham, Alex Williamson, Adrian Southern, and Andrew Fish. I also owe a debt of gratitude to my disc golf club, the Morgantown Mountain Goats. Finally, I would like to thank Mary Al-Sayed, Elizabeth Graber, Paul Smith Jesudas, Brian Halm, Madison Allums, and Dhanalakshmi Muralidharan from Palgrave Macmillan. Mary’s initial support of the book and the Palgrave team’s consistent backing thereafter were essential to the completion of this project.

Contents

1 Introduction  1 Why Study Disc Golf?   3 An Insider’s Outside Perspective   6 Rise of an Unknown Sport: A Summary   9 A Social Movement  11 Sport Versus Lifestyle  11 Effects of Social Media  12 Movement Commercialization  13 Disc Golf in the News  13 Disc Golf in Popular Culture  14 The Future May Be a Bumpy Ride  15 Thesis  16 References  16 2 A Social Movement 21 Alternative Culture  22 Identity Rooted in Practical Concerns  23 Weak Central Authority  25 Conclusion  28 References  29 3 A Modern Achievement Sport 33 The PDGA’s Modern Achievement Sport  34 Secularism  34 ix

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Contents

Equality  35 Specialization, Rationalization, and Bureaucratic Organization  35 Quantification and the Quest for Records  36 Conclusion  38 References  39 4 A Lifestyle 41 A Short History  42 Innovation and Change  43 The Age of Aggression  45 Fixing the Unfixed  45 Playing, Not Watching  47 Demographic Similarity  48 Non-competitive Motivations  49 Me, Myself, and I  51 Local Organizing and Disorganizing of the Lifestyle Domain  53 Conclusion  56 References  57 5 Group Integration and Disruption in Disc Golf Social Media 61 Social Media: Integrator or Disruptor of Emerging Sports?  63 Integrator  63 Disruptor  64 Research Objectives  65 Method  66 General Patterns  67 Integration  68 Information Seeking and Sharing  68 Giving and Taking Status  70 Affirming and Protecting Identity  71 Having Fun  73 The Language of Stoke  75 Disruption  76 Complaints  76 Intragroup Conflict  77 Intergroup Conflict  80

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Conclusion  80 References  82 6 Social Media and the Growth of Disc Golf 87 Disc Golf Social Media as Mobilizing Resource  88 Method  90 State-Level Variables  90 Individual-Level Variables  91 Results  91 Social Media Activity and Group Size  91 Social Media Activity and Skill Level  92 Discussion  93 Conclusion  94 References  95 7 Movement Commercialization and Disc Golf’s Closed Economy 97 Key Ingredients of Commercialization  98 Legitimacy  98 Human and Material Resources  99 The Breakthrough Sport of the 2010s 100 Commercialization and Disc Golf 101 Event Management 105 Course Design 108 Disc Manufacturing 109 Insiders Dominate the Disc Golf Industry 110 From One Paraphernalia Firm to Dozens of Movement Companies 110 Conclusion 114 References 115 8 The Framing of Disc Golf in News Media119 Normative Bridges and Barriers 122 Framing Disc Golf 123 Status Threat Frames 123 Commercial Frames 124 Social Cost and Benefit Frames 126 Social Equity Frames 127

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Contents

Methods 128 Results 129 Volume 129 Framing 131 Discussion 132 Conclusion 134 References 135 9 Growth without Commercialization: Regional Patterns in Participation Rates and Media Coverage139 Regional Disparities in Disc Golf Activity and Media Coverage 140 Geographical Differences 140 Media and Geography 142 Method 143 News Media Variables 143 Disc Golf Activity Variables 144 Results 144 Discussion 146 Conclusion 147 References 148 10 Neglect, Trivialization, and Stigmatization: Disc Golf in Popular Movies and Television151 The Cultural Constraints Framework 152 Hegemonic Sports Cultures 153 Neglect, Trivialization, and Stigmatization 154 Idealization 156 The Exclusiveness of High-Status Media Organizations 156 Hypotheses 157 Methods 158 From Conceptualization to Operationalization 158 Sampling 158 Coding 159 Reliability 161 Qualitative Analysis 161 Quantitative Results 162 Descriptive Statistics 162 Hypothesis Tests 164

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Discussion 166 Limitations 168 Conclusion 168 References 169 11 The Future of Disc Golf173 Has Disc Golf Reached a Tipping Point? 174 Rise of the Modern Achievement Domain 175 COVID-19, Lingering Fears and the Commercial Boom of 2020 177 Financial and Organizational Uncertainty 180 The Great Indoors 180 Hope Is a Dangerous Thing 181 Feudal Relations 182 The Need for Social Fitness 183 Safety in Multiuse Parks 183 Environmental Impact 185 Inclusion and Diversity 186 Racism and Sexism 189 Two Paths Forward 192 Conclusion 196 References 196 References203 Index227

List of Tables

Table 4.1 Table 6.1 Table 7.1 Table 8.1 Table 8.2 Table 8.3 Table 8.4 Table 9.1 Table 9.2 Table 10.1 Table 10.2 Table 10.3

Motivations for playing disc golf by domain and ideological orientation52 Correlations between Facebook members and disc golf activity by state 92 Percentage of PDGA-sanctioned A, B, and C tier tournaments (1990–2016) 107 Abbreviated codebook with examples of disc golf frames in newspaper articles 125 Number of news articles mentioning “Disc/Frisbee Golf” (1997 to 2017) 130 Ten sports with highest percentage increases in US press coverage (1997–2017) 130 The framing of disc golf in US press coverage (1997–2017) 131 Top ten US states based on per capita measures of courses, PDGA members, and PDGA events 141 Correlations between regional disc golf activity and local news coverage 145 Examples of idealization, trivialization, and stigmatization in disc golf references in movies and television programs 160 The frequency of idealization, trivialization, and stigmatization frames 163 Duration and framing of disc golf references by status of program 165

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CHAPTER 1

Introduction

Paul McBeth, one of the greatest disc golfers of all time, was feeling small. On September 16, 2017, only days after dropping out of the Green Mountain Championship due to injury, McBeth posted a message on Facebook and Twitter: “Being 5′8'' 160 lbs., you’ll never be the favorite in sports. That’s why I like my story.” McBeth’s friends and fans responded. A flood of well-wishes spread across disc golf land: “Heal up Champ!!!” “Hope you feel 100% at USDGC.” “You’re always my favorite!” And yet, no one really embraced his point. No one acknowledged the simple truth that McBeth is an underdog. Of course, to many observers, this simple truth was neither simple nor true. At the time, McBeth was a four-time Professional Disc Golf Association (PDGA) World Champion who held the highest PDGA rating in the world. His long-distance drive was, and still is, mindboggling. His putt, fine art. He is an alchemist from one hundred feet, proving, time and again, that lay-ups can be converted into gold. Watching McBeth play disc golf is like watching a jungle panther leaping, nimble-footed, through tree limbs to catch its prey. In the years following his self-deprecating tweet in 2017, McBeth would retain his dominant, near god-like status in the disc golf world. In July 2018, having played one of the sport’s greatest rounds in history with a score of negative 18, ESPN’s SportsCenter featured McBeth in a one-­ minute, forty-four-second feature that would become disc golf’s most © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Woods, Emerging Sports as Social Movements, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-76457-9_1

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memorable highlight on an elite sports television network. Later that year, McBeth would sign a lucrative four-year, one-million-dollar contract to be a spokesperson of Discraft, a major disc manufacturer. By the end of summer 2019, McBeth would take home his fifth PDGA World Championship title. In 2020, despite the cancellation of several major tournaments due to the COVID-19 pandemic, he would continue his winning ways and end the season tied with Ricky Wysocki as the highest-rated player in the world. Then, in early 2021, McBeth would extend his relationship with Discraft with a ten-year, ten-million-dollar contract through 2031. To anyone who has played disc golf for even one week, McBeth is many things, but an underdog he is not. McBeth is talented, no doubt, but to reject his status as an underdog is to ignore the broader context in which he and many others play. To overlook the economic uncertainty, the opportunity costs of playing disc golf as a career, the puzzled looks from outsiders, the often-sarcastic commentary pouring from mainstream sports media, and the sheer courage it takes to go on tour is to miss the sport’s most glaring characteristic. Disc golf is small. Disc golf, like Paul McBeth, is an underdog in the world of sports. And it may “never be the favorite.” But then, disc golf is not alone in this respect. Several sports, such as flat track roller derby, Pickleball, parkour, cornhole, drone racing, roundnet, and ax throwing have attracted large followings, but have not broken through to the mainstream. All emerging sports have at least one Paul McBeth, a symbol not only of greatness, but of the high hopes of players, fans, and business owners who wish to see their sport grow in popularity, gain legitimacy, become commercially viable, and reach new players across the globe. Like McBeth’s self-proclaimed stature, all sports were, at one point in their histories, small. And like his explosive talent on the disc golf course, they were perceived by many observers as infused with undeniable potential. Over the last three decades, many sports grew quickly for a time, solidified a participant base, but lost momentum before reaching a mass audience. Other sports experienced slow, consistent growth, but still never emerged from the margins. In recent years, only a few sports, such as skateboarding, snowboarding, mixed martial arts, and esports, have captured the public’s imagination, inspired legions of players, produced celebrities, filled stadiums with thousands of fans, shaped popular culture, propelled new industries, and influenced public policy.

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The question is, what explains the variance in these outcomes? How do small sports become big ones? And, more pertinently, will disc golf become a big one? To answer these questions, Emerging Sports as Social Movements examines the psychological, socio-cultural, economic, and institutional forces that shape the development of small, non-normative sports movements. In this introduction, I will briefly summarize my answer to the why-growth question. Before moving forward, however, I feel obliged to make two requisite pit stops—first, to explain why disc golf merits attention from scholars, parks departments, entrepreneurs, and policymakers, and second, to disclose and defend my role as both a sociologist and an insider with deep personal ties to the sport.

Why Study Disc Golf? For the uninitiated, disc golf is an outdoor sport and recreational activity that is typically played by throwing streamlined plastic discs into metal baskets from varying distances. It shares some of traditional golf’s rules. Players throw their first shots from a designated teeing area, often referred to as the pad, and attempt to complete the hole in the fewest number of throws. Averaging roughly 200 to 400 feet per hole, disc golf courses are shorter in length than traditional golf courses. Like traditional golf clubs, discs have special characteristics that allow for long-range drives, mid-­ range throws, and short-range putts. Disc golf merits academic attention for at least four reasons. First, it represents a curious case of a broader sociological phenomenon. Lacking institutional support and facing scorn from sports traditionalists, how did disc golf survive for more than fifty years, let alone thrive? Meaningful answers to this question require a careful investigation into key sociological topics, including social movements, culture, group dynamics, norms, cognition, gender, race, social class, technology, and media. Second, disc golf may be reaching a tipping point (Woods 2016b). Born during the countercultural movements of the 1960s and 1970s, it developed slowly over decades in small regional pockets scattered throughout the United States (Palmeri and Kennedy 2015). Then, in the early 2000s, things began to change. The sport’s governing body, the PDGA, publishes the most reliable indicators of disc golf activity, which include the number of current PDGA members, PDGA-sanctioned events, and disc golf courses. Between 1999 and 2019, PDGA memberships in the US grew from 5403 to 42,006, while PDGA events jumped from 329 to

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3464. The number of US courses increased from 851 to 6643 over the same period (PDGA 2019). Disc golf has thrived in other countries as well. PDGA Europe was established as a committee in 2006, but quickly evolved into a self-­ governing entity. An official PDGA office was opened in the Netherlands in 2016. Throughout the 2010s, the number of PDGA events, members, and courses grew faster in some European countries such as Finland and Estonia than in the US (Nagtegaal 2017). The sport also gained prominence in media. As discussed in Chap. 8, over a twenty-year period, local newspaper coverage of disc golf increased faster than the coverage of ninety-two other sports. Like many emerging sports communities, disc golf benefited from the rise of social media in the early twenty-first century. Social media facilitated new forms of disc golf organization and allowed a range of upstart media, such as YouTube channels, online magazines, podcasts, and blogs, to cover all aspects of the sport. Since the earliest disc golf groups emerged on Facebook in 2007, the number of active groups increased uniformly between 2008 and 2015 and stabilized in 2016 with a total of 3471 groups. Given that the sport has grown substantially over the last two decades, it represents an ideal case for studying the roles of media and other institutions in the development of non-normative sports movements. The third reason to study disc golf involves the social consequences of its growth. If optimistic predictions hold, the 2020s could mark a notable shift in recreation (Woods 2019a). The emergence of disc golf as a mainstream sport would lead to new manufacturing and tourism industries in the US and northern Europe. The utilization of public land, where roughly 90 percent of disc golf courses are located, would surely increase (Oldakowski and Mcewen 2013). At the same time, more research is needed to understand how a rapid increase in the number of players could produce safety concerns and conflicts between disc golfers and other participants of multiuse public parks (Woods 2018b). A rise in the disc golfer population would likely have positive effects on community health and well-being (Maller et al. 2008; Maroko et al. 2009; Center for Disease Control 2001; Kahn et  al. 2002; Crompton 2000). During a typical eighteen-hole round, disc golfers walk an average of 5613 steps or about three miles (Menickelli et  al. 2016). The sport may also attract participants who are less interested in traditional sports like football, basketball, and baseball (Vernegaard et al. 2017). Disc golf, in other words, may remedy inactive lifestyles. However, questions remain about

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who benefits from the sport. The underrepresentation of women and racial minorities suggest that the physical and psychological benefits of disc golf are not distributed equally across US society (Woods 2019a). Compared to ball golf courses, which utilize hazardous fertilizers and require six to seven times more land area, disc golf courses are environmentally friendly (Woods 2018a). Some research has also shown that disc golfers would be willing to play at courses built in underutilized urban spaces, such utility corridors, urban washes, and abandoned factories, which would help alleviate the problems associated with deindustrialization, while making disc golf available to the diverse communities of large urban centers (Plansky 2013). Nevertheless, the environmental impacts of disc golf are understudied and the problems that do exist have not received much consideration from parks departments or the disc golf community itself (Woods 2020). A proliferation of disc golf clubs may also strengthen community ties, promote social capital and encourage volunteerism (Perks 2007; Putnam et al. 1994). Most disc golf facilities and clubs have been created by volunteers and funded through local donations (Palmeri and Kennedy 2015). Based on a survey of 158 experienced disc golf course designers, 65 percent of them had never been paid for their design work, and 74 percent had never been paid for their installation and construction jobs (Leekha and Woods 2018). Although some efforts have been made to get disc golf into schools, it generally receives little support from established sports institutions. Disc golf in the US has been built on a do-it-yourself, not-for-­ profit model. The sport’s physical and social infrastructure represents an ongoing community development project that has been paid for and developed in large part by grassroots clubs and other groups. At the same time, the more recent trends of privatization and commercialization may be destabilizing the grassroots, volunteer-based foundation of public disc golf. Considering developments on the business side of the sport, several questions involving the social consequences of disc golf’s growth demand more attention from scholars. The fourth justification for pursuing a sociology of disc golf is straightforward: Despite its potential benefits and costs, it has received little attention from social scientists. There are several important books on the topic, but most of them are self-published or trade publications and focus on either disc golf history or on how to play disc golf (Menickelli and Pickens 2016; Palmeri and Kennedy 2015). While the PDGA collects some demographic information on its members, the sport has never appeared in a

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nationally representative participation survey. No one knows how many disc golfers exist. Available guesswork on the population size in the US has produced widely varying estimates, from 90,000 to two million (Woods 2016a). There is little information about the demographics of disc golfers or what motivates participation. The socio-economic disparities in disc golf course distribution in the US are unknown. No study has examined how new communication technologies and social media have affected the disc golf movement. Little is known about the community’s social, cultural, and economic evolution over the last decades. The aim of this book is to provide theoretical and empirical research on this potentially transformative sport movement.

An Insider’s Outside Perspective Scholars have long understood that the outcomes of empirical research are influenced by the backgrounds of those who carry it out. Simply put, researchers who belong to the group they are studying are considered “insiders” and researchers who are not members are “outsiders.” Insiders benefit from their special understanding of the group, while suffering from a potential bias that can harm the reliability of the study and distort its conclusions. Outsiders are less emotionally invested in the subject matter and therefore more reliable, but they lack a well-informed, nuanced perspective, which can degrade the validity of results. If understood as a continuum, rather than black-and-white categories, the distinction between insiders and outsiders can help audiences evaluate how a researcher’s background may influence a study. At the risk of sidetracking the main goal of this chapter, I offer the following personal narrative to further acquaint the reader with my perspective as both a disc golfer and a social scientist. Growing up white, male, and straight in a middleclass neighborhood in the Midwest, I found plenty of opportunity to play and worship traditional sports like basketball, football, soccer, and traditional golf. Frisbees were toys. Soccer cleats were athletic equipment. It wasn’t until my college years that I even heard of disc golf. In the late 1990s, a friend and I visited a disc golf course at Grand Woods Park in Lansing, Michigan. Disc golf, it seemed to me, was an excellent excuse for drinking beer in the woods, but a serious sport it was not. After my first official round, I remember seeing a large group of men milling around the first hole. It must have been their league night. These were not children, but men,

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middle-aged men, older guys, all carrying specialized bags filled with discs and other accessories the likes of which I could not fathom. Given the vagaries of memory, I won’t speculate about my first impression of competitive disc golfers, but I do know this: I was not inspired. Having given in to personal conceit and stereotypical thinking, my disc golf life would not begin in the 1990s. Twenty years would pass before I realized what I had missed. When I finally did fall in love with the sport in the summer of 2013 and quietly began conducting research on it in 2016, my own willingness to exclude disc golf from the real world of sports became a subject of increasing interest. My doctoral training in sociology had illuminated the causes and consequences of status hierarchies related to race, class, and gender, but now I was noticing similar status rankings of all aspects of life, from vacation destinations and television shows to sports and sociological topics. I learned, for instance, that some sociologists placed the topic of sports below the threshold of meaningful academic work (Frey and Eitzen 1991; Eckstein et  al. 2010; Malcolm 2014), and that the perceived value of sports sociology among athletes and fans was even lower. As Bourdieu (1988) wrote, “One of the obstacles to a scientific sociology of sport is due to the fact that sociologists of sport are in a way doubly dominated, both in the world of sociologists and in the world of sport” (153). If the sociology of sport was “scorned by sociologists” and “despised by sportspersons” (Bourdieu 1988, 153), where might a sociology of emerging sports like disc golf fall in the pecking order of academic topics and sports commentary? In the minds of most people, disc golf was a child’s game, like red rover or monkey in the middle. Playing it infrequently, accompanied by children, was acceptable enough, but devoting vast portions of one’s time to both playing and studying it was immature, and a little weird. For this reason, in the early 2010s, I had zero interest in writing a sociological book about disc golf. But that was then. And now … well, now is different. Now I am living through what some might call a midlife crisis, but what I have termed my “sports renaissance period.” Following my sports-obsessed youth and then a gradual, numbing, long-term divorce from sports during the early years of an academic career and fatherhood, I am back. Miraculous athletic endeavors are suddenly, stupendously awesome again. My sports renaissance period officially began when I started playing disc golf, but I did not really appreciate the experience until three years later. The awakening was delivered by a disc golfer named Philo Brathwaite, who carded an

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albatross on an 850-foot hole at the Beaver State Fling held in Milo McIver State Park on June 11, 2016. The video crew from Central Coast Disc Golf captured the stunning shot in all its mystifying, glorious detail. Like watching Michael Jordan’s free-throw line dunk, it was, at least for disc golfers, the kind of iconic, televised athletic feat that you can watch again and again and still feel a slight electrical charge as the shot goes in. A Google search for “Brathwaite albatross” will return a video that is sure to astound anyone who views it. Much has been written about the attractive flight of a Frisbee. But Brathwaite’s second shot for albatross was remarkable for its un-Frisbee-­ like qualities: the raw, kinetic power and distance of the throw; the disc’s magical, gyroscopic turn and graceful fade; its arresting proximity to the trees below; its ruthless, knifelike descent and the resounding slash of chains. A Frisbee has never accomplished these tasks and never will. This was a disc golf moment. David Foster Wallace (2006) wrote a piece for the New York Times about tennis called “Roger Federer as Religious Experience.” In it, he describes the experience of watching truly great shots as transformative: “These are times when the jaw drops and eyes protrude and sounds are made that bring spouses in from other rooms to see if you’re O.K.” That sums up my initial reaction to the albatross. But this throw was more than exhilarating entertainment to me. It seemed to mark the moment when my commitment to and enthusiasm for playing, organizing, and researching disc golf intensified. At the time, I was playing in PDGA-sanctioned league events, often twice a week, competing in tournaments, advising a college disc golf club, serving as a board member of two other disc golf organizations, writing and editing a disc golf blog called Parked, guiding research projects for a PDGA committee and other groups, and contributing occasionally to disc golf media outlets, such as Ultiworld Disc Golf and Release Point. I would later become a member of the PDGA’s Diversity and Outreach Taskforce. Shortly after watching the albatross, I began ­toying with the idea of writing this book. If an idealistic love of the game inspired my interest in playing disc golf, I had an equal enthusiasm for using the tools of sociology to make sense of it. In other words, I consider myself an insider to the sport with an outsider’s perspective. Some sociologists have argued that taking such a position is the best way to notice patterns in a group that insiders cannot see and outsiders cannot imagine (Mesny 2009; Mills 1974; Simmel 1950; Becker 1973). In the course of writing this book, rather than regard my insider status as a potential source of bias, I leaned into it for inspiration

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and insight. This is not to say I was always happy with what I found. In these pages, I will cover the sport’s socially redeeming qualities, but also reveal its endemic problems, such as sexism, racism, commercialism, safety issues, and harms to the natural environment. I should also admit that five years of sociological research on disc golf chipped away at my idealistic view of the movement. The extent of my bias in favor or against the sport will ultimately be determined by the reader. But one thing seems clear to me: Developing the thesis of this book would not have been possible without my lived experiences as both a disc golfer and a sociologist.

Rise of an Unknown Sport: A Summary How do small sports become big ones? When answering this question, scholars and sports fans alike often point to the economics of sports and media. These industries work well together, as sports provide valuable content and audiences for media organizations, and media coverage offers needed exposure and revenue to sports organizations (Bolotny and Bourg 2006; Grant and Graeme 2008; Rowe 2003, 2011). It seems simple: A sport grows when mainstream media pay attention it. Increased media coverage attracts more participants and consumers, which accelerate the growth of related businesses and product development. In some cases, the number of participants keeps rising, a non-participant fan base emerges, bigger private firms and outside sponsors enter the space, the sport reaches into the public consciousness and “goes mainstream.” A sport that enters this stage is nearly impossible to miss, as its star athletes endorse products that are unrelated to the sport itself and large-scale media organizations package the sport for a mass audience of non-players. For this reason, in the year 2021, most forty-five-­ year-old Americans, even those who had never set foot on a basketball court, could probably still remember the “Be Like Mike” jingle in Michael Jordan’s famous Gatorade commercial of 1992. In the first two decades of the twenty-first century, several sports were reaching their fast-growth stages. Skateboarding was headed to the Olympics and regularly appeared on television and in fashion magazines. Energy-drink-powered teens were pulling down big paychecks from esports megaevents. The Ultimate Fighting Championship was filling large arenas with fans and pouring mass-mediated adrenaline into mixed martial arts. Even a few lesser-known sports were on the rise. Spikeball, the main promoter of roundnet, landed deals with Shark Tank and

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ESPN. Cornhole was appearing on ESPN and courting moneyed sponsors like Johnsonville Sausage. Ax throwing and wood chopping were being nationally televised. Most of the available scholarship on sport development focuses on traditional athletics such as football and basketball in the United States, major sporting events like the Olympics, or general categories of physical activity such as outdoor recreation (Beamon 2010; Boyle and Haynes 2009; Kidd 2013; Maguire 2011; McGillivray 2017; Rober 2013; Sanderson et al. 2016; Bernstein and Blain 2012). These studies provide important insight on commercialization processes and the cultural politics that arise as emerging sports transform into profit engines (Wheaton 2013). But the economic lens has its limits when it comes to small, non-­ normative sports. Participation in disc golf has grown consistently for more than fifty years, but much of this growth cannot be explained by the strategies of private business. Disc golf is a uniquely public endeavor (Woods 2019b). Most of the world’s tournament directors, league managers, and disc golf clubs are not motivated by profit, nor do they use profit as a key measure of success. Put simply, some things that are profitable have little social value (reality TV anyone?), just as some things of high social value are not profitable (disc golf anyone?). If alternative motivations, such as friendship, community, identity, camaraderie, self-actualization, the great outdoors, and the love of the game, suddenly vanished, so too would disc golf. The disc golf community consists of a growing, global network of individuals, groups, and organizations. Most of the groups are local disc golf clubs of various sizes, which function as voluntary associations and produce little or no profit. Two of them, the PDGA and the World Flying Disc Federation (WFDF), are large non-profit organizations that depend on talent donations from community insiders. There are also several national organizations aboard and regional bodies in the US that rely on volunteers. For-profit firms manufacture equipment and provide services, but, as discussed in Chap. 7, most of these businesses were founded by player entrepreneurs whose influence on the sport should be characterized as “movement commercialization” rather than “mass-market commercialization” (Edwards and Corte 2010, 1144). As argued throughout this book, these groups and organizations represent the building blocks of a social movement, and for this reason, theories of social movements should be used to explain disc golf’s development in addition to the business-­ oriented models of commercialization.

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A Social Movement Establishing the groundwork for this argument, Chap. 2 conceptualizes the disc golf community as a social movement, locating it historically and theoretically among the “new movements” of the late-twentieth century (Johnston et  al. 1994; Woods 2019b; Cohen 1985). Though no less focused on social change, new social movements are brought together less so by social class, political ideology, or contested politics and more so by an alternative set of values, group identity, and pragmatic objectives than other movements. The organizational structure of new social movements also tends to be less centralized than some movements of the past. The development of such a movement depends in part on whether its leaders can inspire a common outlook and a sense of we-ness among members. Although adherence to a standard set of rules and competitive formats is growing, disc golf remains culturally fragmented. The community is made up of multiple groups and social identities, and people are motivated to participate for different reasons. This kind of cultural divergence presents a special problem to small emerging sports—ones that lack institutional support from mainstream media, popular culture, large corporations, and school systems. Disc golf, like all things residing in the normative margins, is a still-developing thing, a DIY thing, a culture in beta mode. The guidelines for interpreting it are unsettled. And so, its definition is equally unresolved. Still, these various understandings are not randomly assigned, nor are they too numerous to list. While the following categories are not mutually exclusive or exhaustive, many self-identified players experience disc golf in one of two ways: as a modern achievement sport, or as a lifestyle. I refer to these categories as “domains.” Each domain represents a distinct set of assumptions about why people play disc golf, what they think of it and how they practice it. Sport Versus Lifestyle As discussed in Chap. 3, disc golfers of the modern achievement domain usually play competitively. They follow the PDGA’s official rules, keep score, and often play for tags, equipment, or money. To improve performance, they practice specialized skills, research new throwing techniques, watch professional events on YouTube, and invest in high-quality equipment. Supporting key aspects of modernity—specialization,

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rationalization, bureaucratic organization, quantification—the PDGA is a driving force behind the modern achievement domain (Guttman 1978; Suits 2007). Yet, only about 14 percent of disc golfers are members of the PDGA, and many devoted players have little interest in this version of the game (Woods 2019a). As argued in Chap. 4, a greater portion of disc golfers gravitate toward the lifestyle domain, where commitment to the sport is high, but players tend to be less focused on winning or even keeping score. Among other reasons, they participate because they enjoy the outdoors, the health benefits of playing or the social aspects of the game. Their participation is guided more by local customs than official rules. Like rock climbers, mountain bikers, hikers, and skateboarders, they experience disc golf primarily as a lifestyle rather than a strictly competitive endeavor. Per Wheaton (2004, 2013), lifestyle sports are characterized by their newness, non-­ aggressiveness, alternative views on competition, and a high level of commitment. This chapter explains how organizational and technological changes have influenced the lifestyle domain over time. It also identifies the conflicting values among people who play disc golf as a modern achievement sport and those who experience it as a lifestyle. The way people participate in disc golf and the meanings they attach to it depend on the immediate situation, as well as broader social forces. Even the most competitive pro disc golfer plays purely for fun at times, or participates for the sake of health benefits, camaraderie, and other non-­ competitive motives. Likewise, many disc golfers who lean toward the lifestyle domain play competitively, delight in victory, and mourn defeat. The differing meanings and practices of the two domains should not be understood as totalizing categories, but rather as cultural equipment or tools that can be used by the diverse members of the disc golf community (Swidler 1986). Disc golf culture is an assorted repertoire of symbols, habits, skills, styles, values, and attitudes that can unite or divide groups depending on how they manifest in behavior (Johnston and Klandermans 1995). Effects of Social Media The evolution of disc golf culture depends greatly on what happens inside local clubs. With the rise of social media in the 2010s, much of this life world was uploaded to groups on Facebook. Chapters 5 and 6 examine the relationship between social media and the rise of disc golf and other

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emerging sports. Based on an analysis of 123 disc golf Facebook groups, the chapters show how social media have both integrative and disruptive influences on the disc golf movement. After defining these influences with a qualitative study in Chap. 5, I use a quantitative analysis in Chap. 6 to show that social media use is positively correlated with regional participation rates as well as the skill levels of individual players. In short, social media, despite their reputation for sowing conflict, appear to be a growth engine for disc golf. Movement Commercialization A sport movement with strong leadership and a unified culture is more likely to take root and grow than a movement that lacks these properties. Alone, however, these resources are not likely to transform a non-­ normative sport into a mainstream one. Building on resource mobilization theory (RMT), Chap. 7 introduces additional resources, including legitimacy, human resources, and material resources, that are required for transformative growth (Jenkins 1983; McCarthy and Zald 1977; Edwards and McCarthy 2004). The chapter defines these resources and illustrates their importance by analyzing other fast-growing sports, including mixed martial arts, esports, and BMX. Drawing on interviews with key disc golf stakeholders and a comprehensive data collection on disc manufacturers, I argue that, unlike the development of other fast-growing sports, disc golf’s commercialization has been driven primarily by talent donations and a relatively small pool of player entrepreneurs and movement enterprises (Edwards and Corte 2010). Lacking large outside investments, disc golf’s brand of movement commercialization has not achieved the explosive growth seen in mixed martial arts and esports, but it has sustained the sport with consistent growth for more than four decades. Disc Golf in the News Ultimately, the future of a sport depends on people’s perceptions of it. Even a sport movement with promising internal characteristics—a cohesive culture, a pronounced identity, strong leadership, long-term investors—depends on outside organizations and institutional players to convert these resources into increased legitimacy and new participants. Non-normative movements like disc golf face the added challenge of breaking through the public’s indifference, negative perceptions and

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stereotypes. People are unfamiliar or vaguely familiar with these sports and so their perceptions hinge on a relatively small set of real and mediated experiences. Each year, hundreds of thousands of people play disc golf for the first time or take in a few rounds recreationally but never join a club, identify as disc golfers, or develop a desire to improve their skills. The same is true of people who occasionally hike a beautiful mountain trail but do not identify as hikers or join a hiking club. Beyond the fringes of all non-normative sports are millions of people whose understanding of the given sport is shaped mostly or completely by news media and popular culture. Building on the inward-looking perspective of resource mobilization theory, Chaps. 8 and 9 utilize a cultural approach to social movements and examine the role of news media in the development of non-normative sports. Drawing on a large sample of articles published in local and major metro newspapers, elite national newspapers, television news transcripts and Sports Illustrated, Chap. 8 shows how both the volume of coverage and the framing of disc golf in news media are positively correlated with reliable measures of the sport’s growth over a twenty-year period. The sport received more news coverage and more favorable portrayals as the number of disc golf courses, PDGA members, and events increased over two decades. Chapter 9 examines the relationship between the framing of disc golf in the news media and its popularity across the fifty United States. News organizations in states with higher levels of disc golf participation produce higher volumes of disc golf coverage and more favorable framing of the sport than news organizations in states with lower levels of participation. However, measures of the sport’s commercialization, such as stories about past tournaments and references to private companies like Innova and Discraft, did not change over time and were not correlated with regional participation patterns. This chapter suggests that non-normative sports may develop through two processes: One driven primarily by large investments and mass-market commercialization, and one that relies more on public resources and grassroots efforts to grow the sport. Disc Golf in Popular Culture Although the disc golf movement has generally benefited from coverage in traditional news media, as well as insider media, prosumers, and social media, references to the sport in popular television shows and movies are

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often critical. In Chap. 10, I argue that as non-normative sports gain popularity, they meet resistance from the dominant sports culture and media. Drawing on Todd Gitlin’s work (1979) on ideological hegemony and Erving Goffman’s Stigma (1963), this chapter shows that disc golf has been neglected, trivialized, and stigmatized by high-status media organizations. To build this argument, I analyzed seventy-seven references to disc golf in television shows and movies using quantitative and qualitative measures. The findings showed that disc golf references are shorter in high-status programs than in low-status programs. Disc golf is also more likely to be trivialized and stigmatized in high-status programs than in low-status programs. The chapter reveals how the evolution of non-­ normative sports movements may be constrained by hegemonic sports culture. The Future May Be a Bumpy Ride In Chap. 11, I review the book’s key ideas and use them to theorize the future of the sport. In the next two decades, disc golf will likely experience consistent growth driven partly by grassroots efforts and the availability of public resources. Barring the arrival of large-scale human and material resources, the movement will rely on its volunteer leadership, generous talent donation from insiders, partnerships with public parks, the development and cultural convergence of local disc golf groups, the mobilizing forces of identity, and its legitimacy as a socially redeeming sport and recreational activity. If disc golf continues to develop as a grassroots sports movement, the key to its growth will rest more so on its social fitness than its economic fitness. At the same time, this chapter also considers the possibility of an alternative path forward that involves privatization and mass-market commercialization. While this future is less likely, there have been recent signs of change. In late August 2020, the sport was featured on the CBS Sports Network. A few months later, in November, a second tournament aired on ESPN2. In 2020, viewership of disc golf tournament coverage on YouTube was also growing fast and social media personalities were attracting new players to the sport. Meanwhile, much of the world at this time was grappling with the COVID-19 pandemic and many people were looking for a sport like disc golf that could be played while social distancing. Reports from all corners of the industry indicated that both participation and equipment sales were on the rise. While the business of disc golf may

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have been on the precipice of a new era of development, the most likely future involved elements of both grassroots and commercial growth. Chapter 11 concludes with a discussion of how these contrasting elements may create tension and conflict within the disc golf movement in the years to come. Thesis The chapters of this book can be summarized with the following thesis: To overcome their marginalized social standings and grow in popularity, emerging sport movements require resources. Drawing on the social movement literature, I identify five key resources. First, a sports movement needs an organizing body with enough central authority to establish and enforce a common set of rules and standards, schedule events, and distribute information. Second, a unified culture is required for aligning the values and goals of the movement’s disparate individuals and groups. For any movement that lacks material resources and depends on volunteers, it also must develop a social identity—that is, a sense of belonging or we-ness that can mobilize collective action. Material and human resources are required for constructing a sport’s infrastructure, creating and improving equipment, and providing a material foundation for growth. The success of a sport movement also rests on its social legitimacy and how it is perceived by potential recruits and people who know little about it. I treat these resources not as predictive variables, but rather as building blocks that have been used by sport movements, in various configurations, to grow. The goal of this book is to demonstrate this framework’s usefulness by applying it to the case of disc golf.

References Beamon, Krystal K. 2010. “Are Sports Overemphasized in the Socialization Process of African American Males? A Qualitative Analysis of Former Collegiate Athletes’ Perception of Sport Socialization.” Journal of Black Studies 41(2): 281–300. Becker, Howard. 1973. Outsiders: Studies in the Sociology of Deviance. New York: The Free Press. Bernstein, A., and N. Blain. 2012. Sport Media Culture (Sport in the global society). Hoboken, NJ: Taylor and Francis.

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Bolotny, Frederic, and Jean-Francois Bourg. 2006. “11 The Demand for Media Coverage.” P. 112 in Handbook on the Economics of Sport, edited by W. Andreff and S. Szymanski. Edward Elgar Publishing. Bourdieu, P. 1988. “Program for a Sociology of Sport.” Sociology of Sport Journal 5(2): 153–161. Boyle, R., and R. Haynes. 2009. Power Play: Sport, the Media and Popular Culture. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Center for Disease Control. 2001. Increasing Physical Activity: A Report on Recommendations of the Task Force on Community Preventive Services. Atlanta: Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Cohen, Jean L. 1985. “Strategy or Identity: New Theoretical Paradigms and Contemporary Social Movements.” Social Research 54, 663–716. Crompton, John L. 2000. The Impact of Parks and Open Space on Property Values and the Property Tax Base. Ashburn, VA.: National Recreation and Park Association. Eckstein, Rick, Dana M. Moss, and Kevin J. Delaney. 2010. “Sports Sociology’s Still Untapped Potential.” Sociological Forum 25(3): 500–518. Edwards, B., and U.  Corte. 2010. “Commercialization and Lifestyle Sport: Lessons from 20 Years of Freestyle BMX in ‘Pro-Town, USA.’” Sport in Society 13(7–8): 1135–1151. Edwards B, McCarthy JD. 2004. “Resources and social movement mobilization.” In The Blackwell Companion to Social Movements. Edited by Snow D.A., Soule S.A., Kriesi H. London: Blackwell. Frey, James H. and D. Stanley Eitzen. 1991. “Sport and Society.” Annual Review of Sociology 17: 503–22. Gitlin, Todd. 1979. “Prime Time Ideology: The Hegemonic Process in Television Entertainment.” Social Problems 26:251. Goffman, Erving. 1963. Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identity. Prentice-Hall. Grant, Allan, and Roy Graeme. 2008. “Does Television Crowd Out Spectators?: New Evidence From the Scottish Premier League.” Journal of Sports Economics, 9(6): 592–605. Guttman, Allen. 1978. From Ritual to Record: The Nature of Modern Sports. New York: Columbia University Press. Jenkins, J. Craig. 1983. “Resource Mobilization Theory and the Study of Social Movements.” Annual Review of Sociology 9:527–53. Johnston, Hank, Enrique Laraña, and Joseph R.  Gusfield. 1994. “Identities, Grievances, and New Social Movements.” Pp. 3–35 in New Social Movements: From Ideology to Identity, edited by Enrique Larana, Hank Johnston, and Joseph R. Gusfield. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.

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Johnston, Hank and Bert Klandermans. 1995. “The Cultural Analysis of Social Movements.” In Social Movements and Culture, edited by Johnston Hank and Klandermans Bert, 3–24. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Kahn, E.B., L.T. Ramsey, R.C. Brownson, G.W. Heath, E.H. Howze, K.E. Powell, E.J.  Stone, M.W.  Rajab, P.  Corso, and Task Force on Community Services. 2002. “The effectiveness of interventions to increase physical activity.” American Journal of Preventive Medicine, 22(4S): 73–107. Kidd, B. 2013. “The Olympic Movement and the Sports–Media Complex.” Sport in Society 16(4): 439–448. Leekha, D., and J. Woods. 2018. “Two keys to growing the sport: Money and safer courses.” Parked, January 29. https://parkeddiscgolf.org/2018/01/29/ two-­keys-­to-­growing-­the-­sport-­money-­and-­safer-­courses Maguire, J.  A. 2011. “The Global Media Sports Complex: Key Issues and Concerns.” Sport in Society 14(7–8): 965–977. Malcolm, Dominic. 2014. “The social construction of the sociology of sport: A professional project.” International Review of the Sociology of Sport 49(1):3–21. Maller, C., M.  Townsend, L.  St. Leger, C.  Henderson-Wilson, A.  Pryor, and L. Prosser. 2008. Healthy parks, healthy people: The health benefits of contact with nature in a park context, a review of relevant literature. Burwood, Melbourne: Deakin University and Parks Victoria. Maroko, A., J. Maantay, N. Sohler, K. Grady, and P. Arno. 2009. “The complexities of measuring access to parks and physical activity sites in New York City: A quantitative and qualitative approach.” International Journal of Health Geographics 8(1):34. McCarthy, John D. and Mayer N. Zald. 1977. “Resource Mobilization and Social Movements: A Partial Theory.” American Journal of Sociology 82(6):1212–41. McGillivray, D. 2017. “Platform Politics: Sport Events and the Affordances of Digital and Social Media.” Sport in Society 20(12): 1888–1901. Menickelli, J., D. Barney, D. Grube, and C. Cooper. 2016. “Disc golf and walking benefits: A pedometer-based physical activity assessment.” International Journal of Physical Education, Fitness and Sports 5:1–5. Menickelli, Justin and Ryan Pickens. 2016. The Definitive Guide to Disc Golf. Chicago, Illinois: Triumph Books. Mesny, Anne. 2009. “What Do ‘We’ Know that ‘They’ Don’t? Sociologists’ versus Nonsociologists’ Knowledge.” Canadian Journal of Sociology 34(3):671–95. Mills, C.  Wright. 1974. “The Social Role of the Intellectual.” Pp. 292–304  in Power, Politics, and People: The Collected Essays of C.  Wright Mills, edited by Irving Horowitz. New York: Oxford University Press. Nagtegaal, L. 2017. “PDGA Europe 2016 in Numbers.” PDGA Europe, January 18. https://pdga-­europe.com/2017/01/pdga-­europe-­2016-­in-­numbers/ Oldakowski, R., and J. W. Mcewen. 2013. “Diffusion of disc golf courses in the United States.” Geographical Review 103(3): 355–371.

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Palmeri, Jim, and Phil Kennedy. 2015. A Chain of Events: The Origin and Evolution of Disc Golf. Wethersfield, Connecticut: Wormhole. PDGA. 2019. 2018 PDGA Year End Demographics. PDGA, Accessed January 9, 2021. Retrieved from http://www.pdga.com/documents/demographics. Perks, T. 2007. “Does sport foster social capital? The contribution of sport to a lifestyle of community participation.” Sociology of Sport Journal 24(4):378–401. Plansky, M.G. 2013. Disc Golf Course Design: Inscribing Lifestyle into Underutilized Landscapes. Quality Landscape Architectural Press. Putnam, R.D., R. Leonardi, and R. Nanetti. 1994. Making democracy work: Civic traditions in modern Italy. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Rober, E. 2013. Gender Relations in Sport. Rotterdam: Sense. Rowe, David. 2003. Sport, Culture & Media: The Unruly Trinity. UK: McGraw-­ Hill Education. Rowe, David. 2011. “Sport and Its Audiences.” Pp. 509–26 in The Handbook of Media Audiences. Edited by Virginia Nightingale. Hoboken, NJ: Blackwell Publishing Ltd. Sanderson, J., E. Frederick, and M. Stocz. 2016. “When Athlete Activism Clashes with Group Values: Social Identity Threat Management Via Social Media.” Mass Communication and Society 19(3): 301–22. Simmel, Georg. 1950. “The Stranger.” Pp. 402–408  in The Sociology of Georg Simmel, trans. Kurt Wolff. New York: Free Press. Suits, Bernard. 2007. “The Elements of Sport.” Pp. 9–19 in Ethics in Sport, edited by W. J. Morgan. Champaign, Illinois: Human Kinetics. Swidler, Ann. 1986. “Culture in Action: Symbols and Strategies.” American Sociological Review 51:273–86. Vernegaard, K., B.T. Johansen, and T. Haugen. 2017. “Students’ motivation in a disc golf-lesson and a soccer-lesson: An experimental study in the physical education setting.” Journal for Research in Arts and Sports Education 1(3):32–46. Wallace, David Foster. 2006. “Roger Federer as Religious Experience.” New York Times, August 20. https://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/20/sports/ playmagazine/20federer.html Wheaton, Belinda, ed. 2004. Understanding Lifestyle Sports: Consumption, Identity, and Difference. New York: Routledge. Wheaton, Belinda. 2013. The Cultural Politics of Lifestyle Sports. New York, NY: Routledge. Woods, Joshua. 2016a. “Three Million People Play Disc Golf in the U.S., or it Might be Ninety Thousand.” Parked, September 8. https://parkeddiscgolf. o r g / 2 0 1 6 / 0 9 / 0 8 / t h r e e -­m i l l i o n -­p e o p l e -­p l a y -­d i s c -­g o l f -­i n -­t h e -­ u-­s-­or-­it-­might-­be-­ninety-­thousand Woods, Joshua. 2016b. “Has Disc Golf Reached a Tipping Point?” Parked, October 15. https://parkeddiscgolfblog.wordpress.com/2016/10/15/ has-­disc-­golf-­reached-­a-­tipping-­point/

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Woods, Joshua. 2018a. “The Future of ‘Golf’ May Not Be on the Links.” The Conversation, September 21. https://theconversation.com/the-­future-­of-­ golf-­may-­not-­be-­on-­the-­links-­102386 Woods, Joshua. 2018b. “Six Ways to Kill a Disc Golf Course and One Way to Stop It.” Parked, February 22. https://parkeddiscgolf.org/2018/02/22/ six-­ways-­to-­kill-­a-­disc-­golf-­course-­and-­one-­way-­to-­stop-­it/ Woods, Joshua. 2019a. “Using Social Media to Estimate the Size and Demographic Characteristics of Hard-to-Reach Sport Communities: The Case of Disc Golf.” International Journal of Sport Communication 12(1):36–54. Woods, Joshua. 2019b. “Normative Bridges and Barriers in the Framing of Emerging Sports Movements.” Sociological Spectrum, 39(4): 234–249. Woods, Joshua. 2020. “Good Dirt: How Soil Compaction Could Affect the Future of Disc Golf.” Parked, January 6. https://parkeddiscgolf. org/2020/01/06/good-­d ir t-­h ow-­s oil-­c ompaction-­c ould-­a f fect-­ the-­future-­of-­disc-­golf/

CHAPTER 2

A Social Movement

Research on emerging sports tends to focus on participants’ lifestyles, motives, modes of expression, and consumption (Wheaton 2004, 2013). Few scholars have examined sports as social movements. Given their mix of individualistic and collectivistic motives, emerging sports communities occupy a “blind spot” in social movements scholarship (Haenfler et  al. 2012). The following treatment of disc golf as a social movement attempts to fill this gap. Although the specific aims of the community range widely, from the fight against hunger to educational campaigns to reduce heroin addiction, the movement’s primary collective activities cluster around constructing the sport’s physical and organizational infrastructure, welcoming new players, and promoting the legitimacy of disc golf. In short, to use Benford and Snow’s term (2000), the movement’s “master frame” is to grow the sport. In the late twentieth century, new types of collective action emerged, such as anti-nuclear energy protests, gay rights, alternative medicine, New Age, and ecology movements, which attracted the attention of several scholars and led some to reconceptualize social movements. Johnston, Laraña, and Gusfield (1994) identified three defining characteristics of new social movements. Disc golf’s grow the sport movement (GSM) shares these attributes, which include (1) an alternative culture, (2) a social identity rooted in pragmatic objectives, and (3) a lack of central authority.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Woods, Emerging Sports as Social Movements, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-76457-9_2

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Alternative Culture The participants of new social movements tend to embrace alternative cultural and organizational values (Johnston et al. 1994). The culture of a sports movement is composed of cognitions about what the sport is and how it should be played, as well as emotions concerning these beliefs and norms (Jasper 2007, 60). In many respects, disc golf is an alternative sport that differs from or challenges the culture of traditional, performance sports. As discussed in Chaps. 3 and 4, while modern achievement sports developed in the nineteenth century, disc golf emerged during the countercultural movements of the 1960s and 1970s (Guttman 1978). Like other lifestyle sports, disc golf is an inclusive, communal, non-­aggressive activity that is often played in free-form public spaces, as opposed to the square or rectangular boundaries of traditional sports (Curry et al. 2002; Shields 1992; Wheaton 2004). In contrast to well-­organized, competitive sports, spectatorship is limited, and the level of mass-market commercialization is low. The organized, competitive side of disc golf is growing, but many people experience disc golf as a participation or pleasure sport that emphasizes enjoyment, friendships, and connections to the natural environment (Coakley 2001). To use Wheaton’s characterization of lifestyle athletes, disc golfers are guided in part by a “participatory ideology that promotes fun, hedonism, involvement, self-­actualization, ‘flow,’ living for the moment, ‘adrenalin rushes’ and other intrinsic rewards” (Wheaton 2004, 10). Vestiges of disc golf’s countercultural past are still alive in the community. In contrast to the largely privatized arenas of traditional sports, disc golf communities promote collectivistic forms of social interaction that benefit the common good. As noted above, roughly 90 percent of disc golf courses in the US have been built on public land, and many of these courses were funded and constructed by volunteer groups (Oldakowski and Mcewen 2013; Palmeri and Kennedy 2015; Leekha and Woods 2018). Given the public’s extensive access to free courses, the low cost of equipment, and the proliferation of grassroots groups, the culture of disc golf is more inclusive and less oriented by class distinction than traditional golf culture (Ceron-Anaya 2010). Many players exhibit an extraordinarily high level of commitment to participating in the sport and its lifestyle, as seen in their frequency of play and donation of time, energy, and money. A complete emersion in or obsession with any sport, hobby, or leisure activity requires an alternative

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set of beliefs, values, and emotions. Dedicating a large portion of one’s life to an unnecessary venture like disc golf cuts across the grain of the dominant norms prescribing hard work and material achievement (Weber 1930). This break from traditional values is all the more decisive for those who pursue low-status sports that lack reputations as serious, athletic endeavors. Finally, the sport’s cultural distinctiveness is also seen in the “spirit of the game,” an ethos that prioritizes fairness, friendship, self-governance, and participant officiating. While the role of Spirit may have declined in recent years, it was still being promoted by some disc golf organizations and top organizers in the 2010s (Dodge 2016; WFDF 2016).

Identity Rooted in Practical Concerns Second, while social movements of the past typically involved class-based struggles or contested politics, the GSM is rarely united by class consciousness or political strife. Disc golfers appear to be diverse in terms of socio-­ economic status (Woods 2019a). Rather than by class location, the individual and collective actors of the GSM are brought together by a shared identity and practical concerns like running tournaments, building disc golf courses, and growing clubs. Disc golf communities must seek legitimacy in order to gain access to public park lands, but they do not seek political concessions from institutional actors in the conventional sense. Pragmatic orientations and the mobilizing forces of identity are crucial components of new social movements (Haenfler et al. 2012; Hunt et al. 1994; Johnston et al. 1994). The GSM may be emblematic of a broader shift in late modernity away from social class as an organizing structure and toward new types of group identification, such as alternative lifestyles, subcultures, and neo-tribes (Bauman 1992; Maffesoli 1996). Like many lifestyle sport communities, the sense of group identity among disc golfers cuts across boundaries of traditional social distinctions (Woods 2019b). The disc golfer identity exists as a system of overlapping and interdependent affiliations, which produce a common understanding of human experience across a gamut of social units, from small groups to global networks. A disc golfer might, for instance, identify with a dyad (two friends who play together on an ad hoc basis), an informal group (multiple friends who play together on an ad hoc basis), a formal group (an established club or league), a geographical region (disc golf communities focused on place), a sponsored team (a

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private firm that pays players in return for advertising), an association (organizations that govern competitive play and promote the sport at the city, state, regional, national, and international levels), or general category of activity (people who disc golf). These linkages between people are important because they influence how individuals think about, perceive, and evaluate themselves. The development of identities can create tension at times. The different ways in which disc golfers create and perform their identities have thwarted efforts to create a unified culture or singular understanding of the sport. Yet, most of the meanings and affiliations of disc golfers are rooted in a commitment to and common experience of playing disc golf, as well as in the practical matters that make it possible. The typical disc golf course costs $20,000 and requires ample outdoor space and permissions from public officials to use it. In the US, the course infrastructure has relied heavily on charitable giving and volunteer labor for design, construction, and maintenance of courses. All these resources are contingent on the formation of local collectivities, which are, in turn, mobilized in part by group identity. Unlike most sports, identifying with a local disc golf club not only involves playing, but also constructing the field of play. The baseball diamonds, soccer fields, and tennis courts in public parks are rarely funded and constructed by local baseball, soccer, and tennis clubs. Disc golf’s do-it-yourself (DIY) identity is shared by some non-normative sports, such as flat-track roller derby, but clearly differentiates the GSM from most traditional sports. To better understand the GSM’s DIY identity, consider the case of Tulsa, Oklahoma, which has one of the largest disc golf communities in the US.  The “Tulsa Disc Golf” Facebook group had more than 4000 members in 2020. According to the 2017 City Park Facts Report, Tulsa was first in the country in public disc golf courses per capita (Trust for Public Land 2017). Part of this growth in participation and course infrastructure should be attributed to the availability of public park land. Among the 100 largest US cities, Tulsa ranks twenty-fourth based on the total number of parks and tenth in park acres per 1000 residents. But equally worthy of consideration is the unique willingness of members of the Tulsa Disc Sports Association (TDSA) to donate their time, money, and talent toward the cause. During a phone interview, Devan Owens, a touring professional disc golfer and organizational leader in Tulsa, said:

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This is going to blow your mind. Almost all the disc golf courses in Tulsa were paid for and installed by the TDSA. The association has a long history. Since the 1980s, the generations have come through, running leagues, collecting small fees, organizing fundraisers, setting up workdays and trash pickups. The courses are in the ground today because disc golfers of the past gave their time, money and sweat.

When further pressed to identify the secret of Tulsa’s success, Owens talked about the strong sense of group identity within the TDSA and how it mobilized efforts to grow the sport. He said, “You know, the only thing I can think of is the people. When they get involved with the TDSA, they realize they’re part of it. They help put in a disc golf course. They help move a basket, or install a new tee pad, or show up for a long workday, and when they do, they become attached to the course forever … that’s the secret sauce.” Most sports groups in the US have been commercialized to the point where the construction and maintenance of facilities are paid for by individuals, not through a collective willingness to donate and collaborate. The “secret sauce” (or DIY identity) may be unique to small, emerging sports movements, given the scarcity of their material resources.

Weak Central Authority A third defining characteristic of new social movements, per Johnston, Laraña, and Gusfield (1994, 8), is that they are “segmented, diffuse, and decentralized.” Aside from a few cases where the PDGA has asserted its power (Hill 2016a), the exercise of strong central authority is virtually non-existent in the realm of American disc golf. The sport lacks a powerful governing body or economic conglomerate that dictates course development standards or determines how disc golf events should be organized, where and when they should be played, and how the sport should be grown. Consider, for instance, the case of scheduling events. Who oversees this essential task? In the US, only about half of disc golf tournaments are sanctioned by the PDGA, and a wide majority of weekly league events are unsanctioned (Woods 2017). In other words, much of the territory of competitive disc golf is ruled by small independent clubs or regional groups. In fact, even the organization of most PDGA events lacks central authority. While the scheduling of upper-tier PDGA tournaments is

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controlled from above, fifty different state coordinators—all unpaid volunteers elected by popular vote—have the responsibility and authority to schedule lower-tier events in the US. On the one hand, advocates of democratic governance might applaud the PDGA for the way it has divided power between the national association and state representatives. Placing scheduling power, along with other responsibilities, in the hands of state coordinators encourages participation in disc golf organization at all levels and reinforces the principle that local issues should be resolved by local people. On the other hand, as the number of people involved in any endeavor grows, so too does the chance for miscommunication, coordination problems, and conflict. In 2018 PDGA State Coordinator for West Virginia James McDonald put it this way: “With more personalities, entities and clubs come more ideas, wishes and points of emphasis. State or national disc golf organizations are not impossible, but they are no doubt difficult to run. Getting everyone on the same page in large groups can be tough” (Woods 2018). Disc golf organization in the US may have more in common with French feudalism in the Middle Ages than the top-down corporate governance of most major professional sports leagues (Shlapentokh and Woods 2011). With so many different individuals and groups calling the shots, including the PDGA, the Disc Golf Pro Tour (DGPT), an array of state and regional associations, public park officials and local governments, private companies and numerous local clubs, conflicts over territory, resources, leadership, rules, and scheduling are inevitable. A notable example of a feudal clash emerged in 2016 when the DGPT jettisoned the PDGA sanctioning of its tour finale over a scheduling dispute with the PDGA. Launched in 2015, the DGPT is a private business that promotes a series of professional disc golf tournaments.  From the beginning, the task of planning the dates of these events and reducing logistical problems involving travel proved to be difficult, and the DPGT accused the PDGA of deliberately hampering its efforts. Although national-level disputes rarely emerge in public view, both sides in this case revealed their agitation in a series of press conferences and web-based articles (Hill 2016b). Per the DGPT, its move to unsanction its major tournament was “mostly meant as a shot across the bow of the PDGA” (DGPT 2016). Although the rift between the PDGA and DGPT in 2016 was an illustrative case, it represents only one of many conflicts that arise continuously at all levels of the sport. From slight disagreements between local clubs,

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tournament directors, and small businesses to major conflicts between disc golf communities and the municipalities that control their courses, feudal conflicts are a constant threat to the stability of disc golf as a recreational community and a sport (Woods 2018). The challenges of growing the sport with a decentralized social movement become more obvious when examining disc golf in smaller countries. For instance, in Finland, the world leader in disc golf growth, there is more centralized funding for disc golf, more standardization in disc golf course development, and more centralization of key decision-making than in the US (Woods 2018). Brian Hoeniger, PDGA International Director, attributes much of the Finnish success to the country’s highly professional disc golf leadership. In our email conversation in November 2017, he wrote: “In terms of disc golf, this is exemplified not only in the personage of Jussi Meresmaa, the world’s most skilled and entrepreneurial disc golf promoter, but also in terms of the national disc golf association, which is led by a volunteer group of consummate professionals and businesspeople, together with a small number of paid, mostly administrative staff.” Hoeniger also credited the “top-down” organizational model in Finland. Finnish disc golfers join clubs at a higher rate than Americans and the clubs are members of the Finnish Disc Golf Association (FDGA). This kind of centralization may ease some of the sticking points that plague administrative efforts in the US. “The FDGA alone chooses which events are to be PDGA sanctioned,” Hoeniger wrote. “PDGA member fees are collected together with national player fees by the FDGA and submitted in bulk to PDGA, and a current PDGA membership is required to play in all PDGA sanctioned events in Finland.” PDGA membership is required at only A-tier events and above in the US. The FDGA is focused, in turn, on aiding the clubs. It has developed a ten-year plan based on data from a membership survey, and the first action item is to provide greater support to the clubs. As one example, the FDGA created a disc golf instructor training program, which has the goal of “giving back to the sport and spreading expertise to the national FDGA member clubs.” Hoeniger said that most Finnish disc golfers support the top-down model. “Because the example of leadership/organization set by the Finnish DGA is so good, and because it mirrors the local club-based model of other sports, culturally the players in turn buy into the system whole heartedly.” When asked about the level of conflict between Finnish disc golf clubs, Kari Toivonen, a noted disc golf blogger in Finland, said, “I have no

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knowledge of any conflicts between disc golf clubs. There is still plenty of room for clubs and there is not too much competition over members.” It may be too early to dub the FDGA the friendly Leviathan of organized disc golf, but its ability to include many clubs under the same umbrella seems remarkable when compared to the US case. Efforts to unite the many stakeholders of the disc golf kingdom and work toward consensus on important issues may be a key to disc golf’s growth.

Conclusion Few scholars have examined sports communities as social movements. Responding to Snow’s (2004, 19) call to “broaden our conceptualization of social movements beyond contentious politics,” one goal of this chapter was simply to expand the literature by conceptualizing disc golf as a “new social movement” (Johnston et al. 1994). Using this lens revealed three insights about the sport and its evolution. First, disc golf emerged during the countercultural 1960s partly as an alternative to traditional sports. Today, its culture still diverges, to some extent, from that of the typical modern achievement sport. For many disc golfers, their experiences are informed by progressive values, volunteerism, a proclivity for self-governance, hedonistic tendencies, the spirit of the game, an extraordinary level of commitment, and a willingness to participate in the sport for the sake of pleasure, personal expression and comradery as opposed to competition and an appetite for victory. But, as discussed in the next chapter, the culture of disc golf has changed over the decades, and the values of traditional sport appear to be supplanting disc golf’s countercultural traditions. Second, the disc golf identity is rooted not only in consumption and participating in the sport but also in pragmatic objectives associated with the sport’s creation and growth, including building courses, organizing competitions, fundraising, offering clinics to new players, and hosting social gatherings. For the heavily committed disc golfer, the GSM is both a goal and an identity, a source of meaning that at once directs group action and reflects a collective sense of self. While many disc golfers have rightly complained about the lack of funding for disc golf course development, tournament organizing, and other key functions of the GSM, it may be this need for unpaid work that unites disc golfers around a common sense of self and mobilizes efforts to propel the sport forward. Future efforts to conceptualize sports as social movements should consider the

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extent to which participants embrace a DIY identity and grow the sport themselves. Finally, a lack of central authority is the third characteristic of new social movements, per Johnston, Laraña, and Gusfield (1994). Strong, top-­ down governance is rarely found in any social movement, and the GSM is no exception. In the early years, the PDGA took steps to limit the power of a single group or individual over the organization’s key functions, such as event sanctioning and product approvals. As Alexis de Tocqueville famously argued in Democracy in America, there is often a delicate balance that must be found between the impulse of governors to centralize power, and the desire of individuals and local groups to pursue their unique interests. The latter appetite has prevailed in the US. In contrast with the top-­ down model of Finnish disc golf, numerous individuals and groups are pushing the sport forward, but not always in the same direction. Disc golf governance in the US may have more in common with French feudalism in the Middle Ages than with Tocqueville’s optimistic vision of Western democracy. Introducing disc golf as a social movement, this chapter highlighted three conceptual tools for understanding emerging sports communities (culture, identity, and central authority). Taking this approach one step further and drawing on theories of social movements, these and other concepts will be used throughout the remainder of the book to explain why sports movements emerge, persist, and grow. In the next two chapters, I take a movement-centered approach and focus on culture. Essential to the rise of any group is a common understanding of what it means to be a member (Williams 1995). The question, moving forward, is this: Will disc golf’s individuals, groups, and organizations gain traction in the world of sports by uniting around shared goals, values, and norms, or will a growing culture clash within the movement, hamper mobilization efforts, and constrain growth?

References Bauman, Z. 1992. Intimations of Postmodernity. London: Routledge. Benford, R. D., and D. A. Snow. 2000. “Framing Processes and Social Movements: An Overview and Assessment.” Annual Review of Sociology 26(1): 611–639. Ceron-Anaya, H. 2010. “An Approach to the History of Golf: Business, Symbolic Capital, and Technologies of the Self.” Journal of Sport & Social Issues 34(3): 339–358.

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Coakley, Jay. 2001. Sport in Society: Issues and Controversies. 7th ed. New York: McGraw-Hill. Curry, T. J., P. A. Arriagada, and B. Cornwell. 2002. “Images of Sport in Popular Nonsport Magazines: Power and Performance Versus Pleasure and Participation.” Sociological Perspectives 45(4): 397–413. DGPT. 2016. “Tour Championship: Unsanctioned.” DGPT Blog, September 13. https://www.dgpt.com/news/tour-­championship-­unsanctioned/ Dodge, Steve. 2016. “A Vision for Disc Golf: Part Two, Disc Culture.” Disc Golf Pro Tour, October 12. https://www.dgpt.com/ news/a-­vision-­for-­disc-­golf-­part-­two-­disc-­culture/ Guttman, Allen. 1978. From Ritual to Record: The Nature of Modern Sports. New York: Columbia University Press. Haenfler, R., B. Johnson, and E. Jones. 2012. “Lifestyle Movements: Exploring the Intersection of Lifestyle and Social Movements.” Social Movement Studies 11(1): 1–20. Hill, Steve. 2016a. “Williams On Suspension: ‘A Misunderstanding That Got Out Of Proportion.’” Ultiworld Disc Golf, September 10. https://discgolf. ultiworld.com/2016/09/10/williams-­s uspension-­m isunderstanding-­ got-­proportion/ Hill, Steve. 2016b. “PDGA Executive Director Responds To DGPT Statement, Calling It ‘Full Of Inaccuracies.’” Ultiworld Disc Golf, September 15. https:// discgolf.ultiworld.com/2016/09/15/pdga-­executive-­director-­responds-­dgpt-­ statement-­calling-­full-­inaccuracies/ Hunt, Scott A., Robert D. Benford, and David A. Snow. 1994. “Identity Fields: Framing Processes and the Social Construction of Movement Identities.” Pp. 185–208 in New Social Movements: From Ideology to Identity, edited by Enrique Larana, Hank Johnston, and Joseph R.  Gusfield. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Jasper, James M. 2007. “Cultural Approaches in the Sociology of Social Movements.” Handbook of Social Movements Across Disciplines. (59–110). Eds. Bert Klandermans and Conny Roggeband. New York: Springer. Johnston, Hank, Enrique Laraña, and Joseph R.  Gusfield. 1994. “Identities, Grievances, and New Social Movements.” Pp. 3–35 in New Social Movements: From Ideology to Identity, edited by Enrique Larana, Hank Johnston, and Joseph R. Gusfield. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Leekha, D., and J. Woods. 2018. “Two keys to growing the sport: Money and safer courses.” Parked, January 29. https://parkeddiscgolf.org/2018/01/29/ two-­keys-­to-­growing-­the-­sport-­money-­and-­safer-­courses Maffesoli, M. 1996. The Time of the Tribes: The Decline of Individualism in Mass Society. London: Sage. Oldakowski, R., and J. W. Mcewen. 2013. “Diffusion of disc golf courses in the United States.” Geographical Review 103(3): 355–371.

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Palmeri, Jim, and Phil Kennedy. 2015. A Chain of Events: The Origin and Evolution of Disc Golf. Wethersfield, Connecticut: Wormhole. Shields, R. 1992. Lifestyle Shopping. London: Routledge. Shlapentokh, Vladimir, and Joshua Woods. 2011. Feudal America: Elements of the Middle Ages in Contemporary Society. University Park, PA: Penn State University Press. Snow, David A. 2004. “Social Movements as Challenges to Authority: Resistance to an Emerging Conceptual Hegemony.” Pp. 3–25 Authority in Contention, edited by Daniel J.  Myers and Daniel M.  Cress. Emerald Group Publishing Limited. Trust for Public Land. 2017. “2017 City Park Facts Report.” Accessed January 9, 2021. https://www.tpl.org/2017-­city-­park-­facts#sm.0001m2bqnaccwf1ctgm 10omtg0f3y Weber, M. 1930. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. New  York: Routledge. (Original work published 1887). WFDF. 2016. “The Spirit of the Game.” WFDF. Accessed January 9, 2021. http://www.wfdf.org/sotg/about-­sotg Wheaton, Belinda, ed. 2004. Understanding Lifestyle Sports: Consumption, Identity, and Difference. New York: Routledge. Wheaton, Belinda. 2013. The Cultural Politics of Lifestyle Sports. New York, NY: Routledge. Williams, Rhys H. 1995. “Constructing the Public Good: Social Movements and Cultural Resources.” Social Problems 42, 124–44. Woods, Joshua. 2017. “Disc Golf’s Under the Radar Population.” Ultiworld Disc Golf, June 16. https://discgolf.ultiworld.com/2017/06/16/disc-­golfs-­ radar-­population/ Woods, Joshua. 2018. “Does Disc Golf Need a Leviathan?” Parked, January 2. https://parkeddiscgolf.org/2018/01/02/does-­disc-­golf-­need-­a-­leviathan/ Woods, Joshua. 2019a. “Using Social Media to Estimate the Size and Demographic Characteristics of Hard-to-Reach Sport Communities: The Case of Disc Golf.” International Journal of Sport Communication 12(1):36–54. Woods, Joshua. 2019b. “Normative Bridges and Barriers in the Framing of Emerging Sports Movements.” Sociological Spectrum, 39(4): 234–249.

CHAPTER 3

A Modern Achievement Sport

Defining disc golf is like describing the taste of water. The task seems easy at first, but becomes less so as one thinks about it. Starting with the easy part, many people consider disc golf a sport. Scholars generally agree that sports have three defining characteristics: organization, competition, and physical exertion (Guttman 1978; Suits 2007). Although quarrels among academics on this topic are as common as par-3s on a disc golf course, most activities that involve coordination and planning, that result in winners and losers, and that require physical effort can carry the mantle of sport, per sports sociologists. In his book From Ritual to Record, Allen Guttman (1978) argues that sports, as we know them today, are a relatively new phenomenon. It was not until the nineteenth century that sports appeared in their modern form. In the US, the professionalization of sports occurred even later. Exploring the transformation of sports in the twentieth century, Guttman describes seven aspects of modernity, including secularism, equality, specialization, rationalization, bureaucratic organization, quantification, and the quest for records. As argued in this chapter, the PDGA, one of disc golf’s most influential social movement organizations, has been organizing and promoting the sport around the principles of modern achievement. In the next chapter, I examine disc golf’s lifestyle domain and show how the sport’s countercultural history and alternative values conflict with the PDGA’s vision for the sport and may be slowing its growth. © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Woods, Emerging Sports as Social Movements, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-76457-9_3

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The PDGA’s Modern Achievement Sport Secularism Sports were once a religious affair. The ancient Greeks, Mayans, and Aztecs arranged athletic events partly as sacred festivals or religious observances (Guttman 1978). The Olympic Games, for instance, were initially held in honor of Zeus. The games began with religious processions, rituals, and ceremonies; a sacrifice of 100 oxen was made to Zeus (Perrottet 2004). Sacred officials known as hellanodikai judged the moral fortitude of athletes and determined whether they were worthy to compete. The players consulted oracles to learn their fates. Although the festivities surrounding the games included earthly attractions—lavish drinking parties, soap-box orators, fire-eaters—religion pervaded the ancient Olympics. As Perrottet (2004) put it, “Each Olympiad was an expression of Hellenic unity, an all-consuming pageant, the meeting place of heaven and earth, as spiritually profound for pagans as a pilgrimage to Varanasi for Hindus or the Muslim hajj” (11). Displays of religion can still be found in modern sports. Today’s athletes often thank God after victories, wear gold crosses around their necks and openly proclaim their otherworldly devotion. But modern sports organizations, per Guttman (1978), do not fulfill religious functions as they did in the past. The type of disc golf culture promoted by the PDGA, for instance, is indeed modern in this respect. The PDGA is a large, not-­ for-­profit corporation that creates and enforces standards for its sanctioned tournaments and leagues. It has no formal affiliation with a religious organization. Religious groups have built dozens of disc golf courses across the US, and some of them utilize disc golf as a vehicle for spreading their philosophies. But the PDGA does not encourage spiritual rituals or religious affiliations at events. In its sponsorship policy, the organization lists “religious interests” as a service that “does not support the mission of PDGA and the health and well-being of its members” (PDGA 2015, 3). If the organizers of a PDGA tournament want to accept a sponsorship from a religious group, they must receive special approval from the PDGA Board of Directors. Judging from my personal experiences as a player and avid fan of professional disc golf, proselytism and overt religious displays by individual players seem to be rare at PDGA events. As Guttman (1978, 26) might put it, most modern disc golfers play to win, or compete for “other ends that are equally secular.”

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Equality Whereas ascription often governed athletic competitions in ancient societies, everyone has an opportunity to compete in a PDGA event. Individual achievement governs a player’s status in the community, and past performances dictate a player’s access to prestigious events. A player does not need to be born into a privileged family to receive an invitation to the PDGA World Championships; she only needs to score lower than her opponents. The PDGA has also developed a dizzying array of divisions and a ratings system (discussed below) that are intended to match athletes of equal ability in competitive events. Specialization, Rationalization, and Bureaucratic Organization Guttman’s third characteristic of modern achievement sports is specialization. In a way, the history of disc golf is the story of specialization. In the flying disc tournaments of the 1960s and 1970s, players often competed in multiple Frisbee disciplines, such as freestyle, double disc court, guts, ultimate, and disc golf, as well as several individual events like accuracy, distance, MTA, TRC, and discathon. Possessing a specialized talent in any one event would only take a competitor so far. To be a great champion, a player needed a general ability that could be applied in several different competitions (Palmeri and Kennedy 2015). Over time, however, players began to specialize in one discipline and compete in stand-alone events. Disc golf equipment also became more specialized. Whereas a single Frisbee might suffice in the past, the modern disc golfer carries a backpack full of discs, each with a specialized purpose. The PDGA, along with major manufactures of disc golf equipment and the organizations representing other Frisbee disciplines, played leading roles in dividing the competitive flying disc community into multiple specialized units. The specialization of sports, per Guttman, is usually coupled with a fourth aspect of modern sports: rationalization. Guttman argues that sports have become increasingly regulated and standardized. In the case of disc golf, the PGDA has pushed this process forward more so than any other group or individual. While disc golf can be played with various rules and with any type of discs and targets, all PDGA-sanctioned events are governed by specific standards. In addition to maintaining the official rules of disc golf, the PDGA decides on the discs and baskets that can be used in sanctioned events, provides rules for organizing tournaments,

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upholds a code of conduct, and enforces courtesy standards. For example, players must wear shirts and cannot use tobacco products at National Tour events. Drawing on Weber, Guttman contends that bureaucratic organization is required to rationalize sports (Guttman 1978; Waters and Waters 2015). Although this topic will reemerge in a later chapter, it suffices to say that the PDGA, as it existed in the late 2010s, satisfied Guttman’s definition of modern bureaucracy. It is led by a board of directors; most of whom are elected by the membership. The rights and responsibilities of the board are formalized in written bylaws. The PDGA hosts monthly teleconferences and two annual PDGA Board of Directors Summits. Hierarchically structured with centralized authority, the paid staff consists of an executive director and various officers who carry out specialized tasks, such as coordinating media, technology, and marketing. Their work is generally guided by rules, procedures, and standard processes, as opposed to the values, emotions, and sympathies that motivated traditional social forms. Quantification and the Quest for Records Finally, modern sports involve a preoccupation with quantification. Prior to the nineteenth century, people were less immersed in the measurable features of sports. Today, all aspects of major-league sports are recorded and discussed. Even obscure feats of athleticism, such as the largest game of dodgeball, the longest surf by a dog, and the fastest four-legged 100-­ meter run by a human, make it into the modern record book (Pumerantz 2012). In the case of disc golf, quantification is something new. In the early 1990s, disc golf statistics were scarce. Event coverage was hard to find. Keeping track of who’s who in disc golf land required considerable effort. The Disc Golf Hall of Fame was not established until 1993, two decades after organized disc golf began. There were a few disc golf magazines and small-scale media reporting on events, but all of them struggled with low circulation and none of them exist today. Random news items appeared in  local newspapers and television broadcasts, but there was no regular coverage of disc golf in mainstream news. A collective understanding of disc golf’s winners, losers, and record-breaking feats hardly existed until the rise of the internet.

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For all sports, large and small, the internet and other advances in technology have ushered in a new era of quantification, record keeping, and event coverage. But these changes have been especially important to small emerging sports like disc golf. Innovations in mobile technologies, improvements in cell phone cameras, the availability of digital video and editing software, clever apps, and countless websites, podcasts, blogs, and social networking sites are giving disc golf more visibility and allowing players and fans to engage in the culture and access statistical information about the sport like never before. The analytical side of the sport developed significantly when the PDGA developed its player rating system. Created in the early 2000s, the system rates the average performance of PDGA members in sanctioned league events and tournaments. The PDGA uses player ratings to establish the upper and lower bounds of its divisions. As players improve, they are required to move up and compete in higher divisions. Although the PDGA’s rating formula is unknown and proprietary, most members regard their rating as a valuable performance measure (Hegemann 2016). Regularly updated and easy to access online, PDGA ratings are an indicator of social status within the disc golf community and an interesting statistic for fans. Like a batting average in baseball, players, fans, and sponsors use ratings to draw comparisons between players and keep track of changes in performance over time. The PDGA also compiles lifetime statistics on its members, including round scores, points, and career wins. Both professional and amateur PDGA members are never more than a few clicks away from a remarkably detailed personal database on their past achievements. Many players have joined the PDGA for these benefits alone. According to a large-scale survey (Hegemann 2016), PDGA members identified “lifetime stats” and “PDGA rating” as the two most important benefits of being a member. The advent of new technology and the PDGA’s proven ability to utilize it may explain why the number of PDGA members began to grow faster in the early 2000s. The PDGA’s player rating system is only one of several innovations that are encouraging the quantification of disc golf. While the sport still does not appear on national television broadcasts, almost all the major tournaments are now being filmed and made available on YouTube and other social media platforms thanks to videographers like Jomez Productions, Central Coast Disc Golf, and SmashboxxTV. Online scoring platforms,

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such as UDisc Live, allow fans to track real-time, throw-by-throw statistics on players competing in professional tour events. Online news media like Ultiworld Disc Golf are generating hype with disc golf statistics and pushing the sport forward with sophisticated analytics. By all accounts, the number of spectators and the consumption of disc golf media are on the rise, even if the fan base has remained, as some suggest, frustratingly small (Kennedy 2015).

Conclusion In the modern achievement domain, disc golf is about playing to win, not pleasing the Gods. It is about achievement, not privilege. It is about one set of rules, not many. It is about disc golf, not Frisbee. And it is all about the stats. If the PDGA’s past success portends the future, disc golfers will increasingly experience the game as a competitive endeavor. Like traditional golf, it will become a sport characterized by instrumental rationality, privatization, commercialization, entertainment, consumption, fandom, and a preoccupation with winning. It should be further noted that the PDGA is only one of several organizations and businesses that promote disc golf as a modern achievement sport. The Disc Golf Pro Tour, for instance, coordinates a series of major events and covers them with live filming and statistics. PDGA Europe and private tour management companies are building up the competitive side of disc golf abroad. Other US organizations such as Southern Nationals and the New England Flying Disc Association play important roles in organizing competitive disc golf at the regional level, while countless local clubs work with the PDGA to sanction their tournaments and leagues. Before finalizing this conclusion about the rise of competitive disc golf, an important caveat should be brought to bear. The modern achievement domain reflects the culture of only a small portion of the world’s disc golfers. In the US, roughly 15 percent of group-affiliated disc golfers are members of the PDGA, and only about half of disc golf tournaments are sanctioned by the PDGA (Woods 2019). One of the most compelling reasons to study disc golf from a sociological perspective is that Guttman’s definition of modern sports fails to fully explain what disc golf means to those who play it. Without understanding other cultural domains, much of the disc golf community remains uncharted. These alternative meanings and motivations are the focus of the next chapter.

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References Guttman, Allen. 1978. From Ritual to Record: The Nature of Modern Sports. New York: Columbia University Press. Hegemann, Ted. 2016. “More State of Disc Golf Survey Results – PDGA: Thumbs up or thumbs down?” Infinite Discs Blog, September 19. Kennedy, Chuck. 2015. “Let’s Get More Spectators Part 1  – The Challenge.” PDGA, September 7. Palmeri, Jim, and Phil Kennedy. 2015. A Chain of Events: The Origin and Evolution of Disc Golf. Wethersfield, Connecticut: Wormhole. PDGA. 2015. Sponsorship and Advertising Policy. PDGA, Accessed January 9, 2021. https://www.pdga.com/files/pdgasponsorshipadvertisingpolicy2016.pdf Perrottet, T. 2004. The Naked Olympics: The True Story of the Ancient Games. New York: Random House. Pumerantz, Zack. 2012. “The Strangest World Records in Sports.” Bleacher Report, October 16. Suits, Bernard. 2007. “The Elements of Sport.” Pp. 9–19 in Ethics in Sport, edited by W. J. Morgan. Champaign, Illinois: Human Kinetics. Waters, Tony, and Dagmar Waters, eds. 2015. Weber’s Rationalism and Modern Society: New Translations on Politics, Bureaucracy, and Social Stratification. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Woods, Joshua. 2019. “Using Social Media to Estimate the Size and Demographic Characteristics of Hard-to-Reach Sport Communities: The Case of Disc Golf.” International Journal of Sport Communication 12(1):36–54.

CHAPTER 4

A Lifestyle

Competitive disc golf is a thing, no doubt. To many people it is the only thing. As discussed in the previous chapter, the movers and shakers of disc golf are pushing the sport in this direction. But competitive players account for a small percentage of the total population. Beyond the modern achievement domain, there is less consensus on the meaning of the game. Disc golf is a competitive sport to some, and a form of meditation to others. It is a social club and a solitary act, a weekend adventure and a mundane habit, an escape from family life and a family, a retreat from workplace pressures and a job, a momentary lapse in an otherwise sedentary lifestyle and a hiatus from more rigorous exercise, an excuse to use drugs and alcohol, and the only thing stopping an addict from relapse. Although reliable PDGA statistics suggest that something called “disc golf” is growing quickly, its participants may be experiencing the game in different ways. Disc golf is not the only sport culture that is hard to pack neatly in a box. Although few scholars have given disc golf its due, it belongs to a family of lifestyle sports that have received ample attention from academics. Belinda Wheaton (2004) identifies nine characteristics of lifestyle sports. If reduced to single words, they include new, innovative, non-­ aggressive, boundaryless, homogeneous, non-competitive, participatory, individualistic, and committed. These concepts are often used by scholars to differentiate lifestyle sports like skateboarding and parkour from © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Woods, Emerging Sports as Social Movements, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-76457-9_4

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traditional sports like baseball and basketball (Booth and Thorpe 2007; Rinehart and Sydor 2003; Wheaton 2004). This chapter draws on these aspects in a similar way to expand the definition of disc golf beyond the modern achievement domain and emphasize the unique qualities of the lifestyle domain. People who identify as disc golfers embrace a range of symbols, values, ideas, beliefs, norms, practices, and equipment. Players use these cultural tools to make sense of their individual decisions and actions (Swidler 1986; Alexander 2003; Hays 2000); these aspects of movement culture also produce solidarity among members and motivate collective action (Williams 2004). The culture of the disc golf movement is like a smorgasbord of meanings from which players choose. Most dedicated disc golfers can and do use tools from both domains depending on the situation—that is, they can negotiate the cultural landscapes of disc golf as modern achievement sport and as a lifestyle. At the same time, no culture is equivalent to the sum of individual decisions. Disc golf groups and organizations give the culture structure. They systematically strengthen some aspects of the game, while attenuating others (Swidler 1995). As argued in the previous chapter, the PDGA promotes the modern achievement domain, particularly cultural elements like secularism, equality, specialization, bureaucratic organization, competition, and quantification. But other groups and organizations encourage alternative meanings of disc golf. By reflecting on Wheaton’s understanding of lifestyle sports, the goals of this chapter are to identify the diverse elements of disc golf and show how organizational and technological changes have transformed the culture over time. Although the lifestyle domain is still alive in disc golf land, the modern achievement domain has become more dominant in the last two decades. This cultural shift may help the disc golf movement obtain essential resources for growth, including legitimacy, human resources, and financial investment.

A Short History First, lifestyle sports are a recent phenomenon, according to Wheaton (2004). While modern sports developed in the nineteenth century (Guttman 1978), many lifestyle sports developed in the 1960s and 1970s. Whether disc golf meets this historical threshold is ultimately a mystery. As Palmeri and Kennedy (2015) argue, no one knows who first threw a disc-­ shaped object at an intended target for fun. Conjecture about ancient

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peoples hurling strips of wood or stone in a disc-golf-like fashion is unsubstantiated but possible. Given its name and basic objectives, disc golf might also be regarded as an adaptation of traditional golf (Palmeri 2017), a cultural form that can be traced back through the centuries (Moss 2001). Still, there is little doubt about the contemporary origin of organized disc golf. Flying discs made of plastic were not available until the 1950s. The Frisbee, favored projectile of early players, was patented by Ed Headrick in 1967. The preferred target, known as the pole hole, did not emerge until 1975, the same year that the first disc golf course was installed in Oak Grove Park, Pasadena, California. For years, the sport was inaccessible to most Americans. Fifteen years after the first course went into the ground, there were only 250 courses scattered throughout the US (Oldakowski and Mcewen 2013). Roughly 550 courses were added by 2000. Ten years later, in 2010, there were a total of 2700  US courses. Then, between 2010 and 2018, the number of courses increased to more than 6000 (PDGA 2019). Survey data suggest that disc golf is still a new experience for many players. In 2014, according to the State of Disc Golf survey, approximately 50 percent of disc golfers had been playing for three years or less (Infinite Discs 2014). A second survey estimated that half of disc golfers had only two years of experience (Oldakowski and Mcewen 2013). Regardless of the player’s domain, throwing plastic discs at metal chains is, unquestionably, a recent phenomenon.

Innovation and Change Lifestyle sports are not only younger but also less institutionalized than traditional sports. For this reason, moving to Wheaton’s (2004) second characteristic, the groups and individuals associated with lifestyle sports seem to be more willing to embrace technological innovation and change than traditional sports communities. Although all sports evolve over time, establish new rules and gradually introduce technological improvements, Wheaton (2004) argues that these changes are often dramatic in the case of lifestyle sports, and sometimes lead to entirely new forms of activity. Booth (2004), for instance, describes how the invention of tow-in-­ surfing transformed the sport and created fissures in surf culture. New technology has also led to significant changes in rock climbing, skateboarding, and snowboarding. The “indoorisation” of outdoor sports offers additional examples (Van Bottenburg and Salome 2010). Enormous

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sports centers now exist that allow people to participate in risky outdoor activities like skiing and skydiving in safer, more predictable indoor settings. These new forms test the cultural boundaries of the given sport and can create conflicts within the community. If characterized by the pace of innovation, disc golf’s early years clearly differ from the contemporary context. As mentioned, transformative technological change occurred in the 1960s and 1970s with the development of the Frisbee and pole hole. Several later inventions continued to push the sport forward, especially in disc technology. Like the relationship between skaters and their boards, or climbers and their gear, the connection between disc golfers and their discs is an essential part of the culture. In the 1980s, this culture evolved rapidly. As Roddick (2016) explains, discs became smaller and increased in weight, which allowed for longer throws. The biggest step forward, Roddick says, was the development of the beveled-edge rim. Invented and patented by David Dunipace in 1983, the beveled-edge golf disc provided greater distance and flight control than previous models. A sign of the rapid evolution of disc technology can be seen in the history of world distance records. In 1970, Victor Malafronte threw a Wham-O Professional Model Frisbee 276  feet. In 2016, David Wiggins Jr., using a modern disc (the Innova Boss), quadrupled Malafronte’s effort with a wind-aided throw of 1109 feet. That is more than three football fields in length. Although new inventions clearly played a role in the sport’s evolution, the rate of change slowed as the institutions of disc golf strengthened. According to Roddick (2016), by the early 1990s, safety concerns about the increased rigidity and speed of new discs led to a “comprehensive set of standards for discs.” The PDGA created standards for weight, size, rigidity, rim depth, rim configuration, and edge sharpness. The new standards sparked debate and controversy, but almost all the disc manufacturers complied. As the driving force behind the modern achievement domain, the PDGA slowed changes in disc technology and pushed for standardization. In other words, using the acceptance of change as a yardstick, the sport has moved away for the progressive orientation of the lifestyle domain and toward the doctrinal achievement domain.

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The Age of Aggression Wheaton’s third point is that lifestyle sports are usually non-aggressive activities. They rarely involve bodies colliding or intentional efforts to physically harm others. While disc golf is certainly a lifestyle sport in this respect, its historical trajectory involves a noticeable movement toward more aggressive play. Much of this evolution can be traced to the technological changes discussed above. The Frisbee of old was leaf-like in comparison to the modern disc. It floated in the breeze, hovered in midair, and faded gracefully to the ground. People “flipped” Frisbees to one another. A child could catch one. “Unless it landed in the potato salad,” Roddick (2016) quipped, “it probably wasn’t a big deal if it floated into a picnic.” By the 2000s, disc speeds reached 80 miles per hour. In 2013, Simon Lizotte captured the speed record with a throw of 89.5 mph. Today disc golfers “crush” drives, and catching one presents a significant health risk. The raw, kinetic power of the modern drive looks like a herculean act of belligerence compared to the Frisbee throws of the past. The increasing speed of discs, the more aggressive throwing styles, the tradeoff between throwing accurately and throwing far, and the emphasis placed on breaking distance records have signaled the sport’s historical shift toward the modern achievement domain.

Fixing the Unfixed Prior to the 1960s, the history of disc golf is a bit foggy, but there’s sound evidence that people played a game akin to disc golf by throwing various flat, round objects at existing or homespun targets, such as garbage cans, stop signs, lamp posts and chicken wire baskets (Palmeri and Kennedy 2015). Emulating Wheaton’s fourth characteristic of lifestyle sports, disc golf, in its early forms, was usually played in free-form public spaces. In contrast to the square or rectangular boundaries of traditional sports, disc golf courses were established in “appropriated outdoor liminal zones” (Wheaton 2004, 12; Shields 1992). In some cases, the rules, boundaries, and holes were invented, impromptu, by the players as the game progressed. Often referred to as “object golf,” players trekked through fields, forests, and suburban landscapes, dreaming up fairways, landing zones, greens, and pin placements. Compared to a PDGA-sanctioned disc golf tournament, early players were guided less by rules, boundaries, and

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positions, and more by an appreciation for nature, adventure, friendship, creativity, hedonism, and the pleasure of redefining urban and rural landscapes as disc golf courses. As it relates to boundaries, contemporary disc golf is still more lifestyle-­ like than most traditional sports, but disc golf has become, literally and figuratively, more rectangular, fixed, and artificial. Most natural tee pads have been replaced by rectangular pads made of cement, artificial turf, or other synthetic materials. Modern targets, now made of fabricated metal, are standard in shape and fixed in permanent positions. Thousands of disc golf courses have firmly established geographical locations. Boundaries are more vivid and abundant, especially on championship-level courses during major tournaments. Marked with spray paint, ropes, or signs, boundaries indicate whether a player’s throw is out-of-bounds or in a hazard, where drop spots are located, whether a lie is inside or outside the putting area (“the circle”), and whether a player has successfully negotiated a required flight path (“mando”). Perhaps the most obvious example of this trend occurs when a professional disc golf tournament is held on a traditional golf course. In many cases, the typical length of holes is greater, and the number of obstacles is reduced, which pushes players to throw longer, less creative shots. In an interview with Ultiworld Disc Golf, professional disc golfer Eagle McMahon lamented this trend: “It’s crush after crush after crush, and honestly I’d much rather have a course where there’s a lot of variety” (Hill 2016). McMahon suggested that playing disc golf on a ball golf course requires less creativity, versatility, and skill than playing the typical wooded course. “Everything is just overstable shot after overstable shot. I hope disc golf doesn’t go in that direction, because it’s not fun. I want to maneuver my discs.” In an interview with Parked, disc golf enthusiast and landscape architect Mike Plansky offered a similar view: “It’s hard to say what an authentic disc golf experience is, but the spirit of adventure and discovery, which runs through many lifestyle sports, may be hard to find on some ball golf courses” (Parked 2017a). As it pertains to the culture of space and place, the movement of disc golf onto ball golf courses represents a shift away from the lifestyle domain and toward the modern achievement domain. Like rock climbing in a gym or surfing an artificial wave, the experience of disc golf on a ball golf course is different. The lifestyle player’s emotional connection to disorderly woodlands, bushy fields and brambles, teakettle ponds and streams,

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suburban roadways-turned-fairways, the reinvented cityscape, and the unwise if invigorating flight line through an angry neighbor’s backyard is replaced by the financial and institutional efficiency of running large-scale events on carefully crafted imitations of nature. As Plansky put it: “The challenge of building a great course is like the difficulty of writing a great story. The audience shouldn’t be confused about where it’s headed, but they should still be curious about what will happen next. I’m not sure a pop-up disc golf course on a ball golf course can do that …” (Parked 2017a).

Playing, Not Watching One of the most important, if obvious, aspects of lifestyle sports is in the name. Skateboarding, windsurfing, and rock climbing all involve a style of life—an often-intense, immersive experience in the given activity. The fact that disc golf fits the bill of a lifestyle sport in this respect—Wheaton’s fifth, if you are still counting—may seem self-evident to most disc golfers. Disc golf, to put it plainly, is about doing it. From local clubs to major manufactures to top course designers to the PDGA, the sport is composed almost entirely of players. Some people make a living at selling discs, organizing events, and designing courses, but participation is the geodetic north of disc golf land. For all but a few, the only way to become deeply involved in the sport is to play it. This is what distinguishes disc golf from many other sports. Thousands of owners, managers, coaches, advertisers, journalists, and administrators of major league sports dedicate their lives to their jobs. Millions of NFL fans devote large, emphatic portions of their lives to spectating their favorite sport. Billions of passionate fans follow soccer. But to live the disc golf life, one needs a willingness to play, a readiness to participate, an inclination to spend hours and hours throwing a plastic toy through a public park. Like other lifestyle sports, disc golf involves a series of often exhilarating performances that are ultimately futile and carried out in the absence of utilitarian purpose. To many disc golfers, this is not a shortcoming. For some, it is the material uselessness of disc golf and the fact that people play it anyway that makes it so appealing, so intoxicatingly fun to play. As Lasch (1977) put it, “the ‘futility’ of play, and nothing else, explains its appeal.” Although disc golf, by the end of the 2010s, was primarily a participation sport, it began showing signs of commercialization, an uptick in fandom and a slow move toward the modern achievement domain. Media

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coverage of major tournaments was improving and increasing quickly. The number of spectacular moments caught on high-quality video— Braithwaite’s albatross, McBeth’s two rounds at eighteen under par, and countless aces—was rising. Better coverage brought an increase in clips shown on ESPN, the crown jewel of Western commercialized sports media. Regular television coverage of disc golf was nonexistent, but viewership of prestigious tournaments on YouTube and other social media was growing fast. The employees of video production companies like JomezPro and Central Coast Disc Golf increasingly put down their discs and picked up high-tech cameras to film major events. While media attention was growing, and spectating disc golf was becoming more popular, the absolute size of the audience was small compared to that of traditional sports and many lifestyle sports as well. In terms of commercialization, disc golf was still closer to the lifestyle domain in the early twenty-first century.

Demographic Similarity Wheaton argues that most lifestyle sports have relatively homogenous participant pools. In the worlds of skateboarding, surfing, and parkour, for instance, white, middle-class men from Western countries dominate the scenes. Diversity in age is more common, despite the youthful image of lifestyle sports (Wheaton 2004). Almost all of Wheaton’s observations on demographics fit the case of disc golf. Women, people of color, and urban residents are underrepresented among disc golfers (PDGA 2019; Nelson et al. 2015; Rahbek and Nielson 2016; Hegemann 2016; Oldakowski and Mcewen 2013; Mohoney 2014; Siniscalchi 2004; Woods 2016, 2019a). With its origin in North America, the population largely comprises players from the United States and other Western countries, particularly in Northern Europe. Disc golfers vary more by age than by gender, race, or nationality. Almost one third of disc golfers are over the age of forty-one, according to some studies (Durrant 2017). As one example, legendary pro Barry Shultz started playing disc golf in the early 1980s. In 2018, still playing professionally at age forty-eight, he was the fourteenth highest rated player in the PDGA.  Based on statistical analysis of PDGA Year-End World Rankings between 2005 and 2016, David Feldberg, forty-one years young in 2018, had the highest average ranking in the world (Kennedy 2016).

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One of Wheaton’s generalizations about the demographics of lifestyle sports may not fit disc golf. Disc golfers have relatively diverse socio-­ economic backgrounds. Given the low cost of discs and the availability of courses in public parks, the sport has a lower economic barrier to entry than other sports. In addition to the varied ages of disc golfers, the community may be more diverse in terms of class than most lifestyle sports (Woods 2019a). Although disc golf generally lacks racial, gender, and geographical diversity, several organizations have attempted to make the sport more accessible to underserved groups. As one example, the PDGA established the Women’s Committee to increase the number of female players. Among other things, the committee started organizing the Women’s Global Event in 2012. By 2014, this biennial event became the largest PDGA event for a single demographic group within the sport. In 2016, 61 registered tournaments, spanning 28 states and 6 countries resulted in a turnout of 1060 women competing in 17 different PDGA divisions. In 2018, there were 2125 participants at 80 events in 39 states and 14 countries.

Non-competitive Motivations Wheaton’s seventh characteristic speaks to the importance of winning. People often get involved in lifestyle sports for purposes other than competition. For many rock climbers, surfers, and snowboarders, the notions of winning and losing are irrelevant to the experience (Wheaton 2004). Instead, participation is inspired by a host of alternative motives, logics, and ideologies. Many participants are more interested in “chasing moments” than chasing the competition (Robinson 2004, 121). For some lifestyle enthusiasts, competition is not merely irrelevant, but antithetical to the spirit or ethos of the given activity. For instance, some parkour athletes are deeply committed to the activity, yet hold disdain for competition and the appetite for outdoing or beating other participants. The community gives equal value to an amazing feat by an experienced traceur as it does to a beginner’s effort to clear a small barrier (Gilchrist and Wheaton 2011). A similar anti-competitive mentality can be found in the skateboarding community (Beal and Wilson 2004; Dupont 2014). Although competitiveness is a key characteristic that separates the modern achievement and lifestyle domains of disc golf, it should not be regarded as a black and white distinction. Each disc golfer has a repertoire of motivations for playing. These reasons may include conventional

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notions of competition, but also a host of others, such as the transcendent experience of being outdoors, health benefits, the hedonistic joys of drugs and alcohol, the chance of meeting new people, and having fun with old friends. Competitiveness also exists in at least two forms. Players’ may be extrinsically or intrinsically motivated to win. In other words, winning at disc golf may produce feelings of personal growth and mastery (beating oneself), as well as feelings of social accomplishment and pride (beating others). As it pertains to competitiveness, the domains are more analytically useful for locating people’s attitudes toward winning along a continuum than for categorizing individuals or groups. With that said, some research has shown that the lifestyle domain attracts people who tend to disfavor competitive sports. Vernegaard, Johansen, and Haugen (2017) surveyed the attitudes of 637 schoolkids toward their compulsory gym class. They also measured their levels of intrinsic motivation to participate in gym-class activities. The researchers then exposed the kids to a disc golf lesson and a soccer lesson. After each activity, they measured the students’ attitudes and intrinsic motivations again. The students who reported negative attitudes toward gym were more intrinsically motivated to participate in disc golf than soccer or gym. Meanwhile, students with positive attitudes toward gym experienced reduced intrinsic motivation in the disc golf condition compared to soccer or gym. Referring to these findings as the “Robin Hood effect,” the authors concluded that, in the context of physical education, learning about and playing disc golf boosts the reluctant athlete’s motivation to exercise, while robbing motivation from the typical gym-class enthusiast who favors traditional, competitive sports. Vernegaard, Johansen, and Haugen (2017) did not identify the causal mechanism behind the Robin Hood effect. The study could not determine what the non-competitive-sports kids liked about disc golf. However, the lesson was taught in the lifestyle tradition. In addition to learning correct throwing technique and playing a six-basket short course, “the lesson focused on aspects central in ‘the spirit of the game’” (Vernegaard et al. 2017). Although it does not represent the beliefs of all disc golfers, spirit is an ethos that prioritizes the simple joy of throwing discs, the importance of fairness on the course, mutual respect, friendship between players, calm interaction, and self-officiating (WFDF 2016). It also discourages the win-­ at-­all-cost attitude that pervades competitive events. In his study of disc sports, Thornton (2004) also associates the spirit of the game with the lifestyle domain of disc golf.

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All sports communities attract participants with varying levels of competitiveness. The emphasis athletes put on winning often depends more on the given situation than on the nature of the given sport. Still, disc golf, particularly as it is played in the lifestyle tradition, may have a special draw on people with alternative orientations toward sports, people for whom the urge to win is a lesser ambition than the desire for group involvement, camaraderie, living in the moment, self-actualization, outdoor adventure, hedonistic consumption, or simply the fun of a watching a disc in flight.

Me, Myself, and I Finally, Wheaton (2004, 12) argues that lifestyle sports are “predominantly, but not exclusively, individualistic in form and/or attitude.” Applied to disc golf, individualism has at least two meanings. First, competitive disc golf is individualistic in the sense that it is usually played by individuals as opposed to teams. Like traditional golf and tennis, there are team versions, but the most popular form is singles play. Evidence for this claim can be found in the PDGA’s large dataset of past events. Between May 1980 and August 2016, there were 22,656 PDGA-sanctioned events. Only 807, or 3.5 percent, were designated as X-Tier events, most of which were doubles or team events. In short, outcomes of competitive play are more often determined by individual performance than group effort. Individualism also refers to a set of values, beliefs, and attitudes. People with individualistic orientations are more likely to see themselves as independent and separate from others, more likely to celebrate personal victories, and more likely to mention individual traits when asked to define themselves than are people with collectivistic outlooks on life (DeLamater and Ward 2013). In contrast, collectivists tend to define themselves by their social relationships and see themselves and their prospects for the future as tied to other people and groups. There is a long tradition in sociology of contrasting whole societies based on people’s individual versus collective understandings (Weber 1930; Tönnies 1957). Cross-cultural research has demonstrated that Western societies tend to be more individualistic and Eastern societies more collectivistic (Hofstede 1980, 1991). Given that competitive disc golf was developed in North America and is played predominantly by Westerners, it seems reasonable to assume that individualism better describes the culture than collectivism.

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Still, this assumption has a few holes. While several studies have revealed nation-level differences between East and West, less is known about the mechanism that creates these differences at the individual level. Most studies also fail to demonstrate that people’s orientations, whether individualistic or collectivistic, are consistent from one situation to the next. In fact, some research has shown the opposite—that the values of athletes conform, rather quickly, to the context in which they play. Studies have revealed how sports communities influence the values of players and how players influence their communities, regardless of national identity (Kernan and Greenfield 2005). Depending on how they are organized, some disc golf groups may encourage collectivist orientations. Uniting people in common pursuits, such as building disc golf courses and organizing major events, can reinforce collectivistic sentiments and social identity, encourage feelings of we-­ ness, and inspire group members to perform for the common good, as opposed to individual gain (DeLamater and Ward 2013; Brewer and Schneider 1990; Gaertner et  al. 1999; Jackson et  al. 2002). Given the sport’s grassroots origin and its continued dependence on volunteer labor, disc golfers may be more willing to give the group priority over the self than athletes from other sports. Rather than a tool for differentiating the two domains, the concepts of individualism and collectivism may help distinguish four different motivations for playing. As shown in Table 4.1, players may pursue personal victories (individualism) or team triumphs (collectivism) in the modern achievement domain and seek various forms of self-actualization (individualism) or social life (collectivism) in the lifestyle domain. These categories are not mutually exclusive. Players may be motivated by all four reasons, though the strength of these motivations likely changes depending on the social setting. Few players are motivated by all four reasons all the time. By Table 4.1  Motivations for playing disc golf by domain and ideological orientation Modern achievement domain Individualism Personal victory, individual status, material gain Collectivism Shared victory, group status, material gain

Lifestyle domain Self-actualization, personal experience, individual benefits Group life, social experience, group identity

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accounting for the distinct characteristics of the two domains, as well as different value orientations (individualism/collectivism), a more nuanced understanding of what disc golf means to people emerges.

Local Organizing and Disorganizing of the Lifestyle Domain Some local leagues and clubs are organized in ways that promote disc golf as a modern achievement sport, while others encourage lifestyle orientations. Three of the clearest differences between clubs involve bag tags, score cards, and online stats. A typical competitive club sells bag tags to its members as a fundraiser. Usually rectangular and made of plastic, wood, or metal, bag tags are numbered and can be displayed on a disc golfer’s bag. A player’s current tag number signifies his or her position in the hierarchy of the club. Although the rules governing bag tag challenges differ across clubs, “the #1 tag” is typically the most desirable, and club guidelines ensure that all members have some opportunity to win it through competition. Many clubs also group their members by skill level during league rounds. This can be done by developing hierarchical divisions, or simply by assigning members to score cards based on their tag numbers. The most talented players usually make the “top card.” For some clubs, the results of league rounds and the individual rankings of players are published on public websites, which makes the status of players more visible and likely reinforces the competitiveness of the club. The formal hierarchies of competitive clubs differ from the informal hierarchies of some lifestyle sports such as skateboarding where status is claimed through displays of authenticity or closeness to the core of the skateboard subculture (Dupont 2014). Other clubs and informal groups promote alternative ideologies. Organized with the purpose of having fun, making friends, reducing stress, getting exercise, enjoying nature, smoking pot, or drinking alcohol, the members of some clubs have “an ambiguous relationship with forms of traditional competition” (Wheaton 2004, 12). One example of this ambiguity can be found in the Disc On! Ladies League (the DOLLs). With active leagues in four states of the upper Midwest and a strong social media presence, the DOLLs network is one of the largest women’s disc golf organizations in the United States.

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In an interview with Parked, President of the DOLLs Jenny San Filippo described the group’s organizational structure (Parked 2017b). The leagues are free to play. None of them have bag tags or opportunities to place bets. Scores are kept, and cards are collected at the end of league rounds, but, as San Filippo said, “we don’t make a big deal of it.” Many players head home without checking their scores, or the scores of others. The DOLLs support competitive women’s tournaments, but even these contexts are imbued with meanings that contrast with those of the typical, male-dominated event. San Filippo said that participants of women’s events experience a sense of excitement, social cohesion, friendship, and solidarity that goes beyond the enjoyment of competition. Organizing women’s tournaments not only gives women the opportunity to compete and demonstrate their skills, but also establishes a social context where alternative ideologies flourish (Parked 2017b). DOLLs leagues are only one of many examples of alternative disc golf experiences being constructed at the group level. Although an entire book could be devoted to alternative forms of group-oriented disc golf, here are a few examples. First, there is a well-developed tradition of charity events in disc golf land. One of the most notable tournaments, the “Ice Bowl,” runs through the frigid months of January and February to raise funds for combating hunger at disc golf courses throughout the United States, Canada, and some European countries. Per Ice Bowl’s website, “Since 1996, Ice Bowl has raised over $3,500,000.” Although Ice Bowls are usually centered around competitive play, for many participants, the season’s severe weather and the spirit of giving shifts the experience away from traditional competition. At some charitable events, to promote giving, players are also allowed to buy mulligans (extra throws), which further transforms what it means to win the event. Standard group play at night, while intoxicated, or during unusual weather can sometimes alter the competitive context and allow for alternative disc golf experiences. Temporary courses located in unusual locales may produce similar effects. Downtown urban areas, beaches, churches, schools, vacant prisons, abandoned factories, baseball parks, and automobile raceways have all been used as locations for major events on pop-up disc golf courses. For instance, one club in West Virginia puts on an annual event played at night, in the middle of winter, through an elaborate holiday lights display. Disc golfers trek through the snow among pink neon trees and green blinking elves and whiz glow discs around and between more than 330

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light displays (Parked 2016). As another example, the non-profit, charitable organization known as Disc Downtown has organized several events in the downtown areas of large cities. By establishing different divisions, the events attract players of various skill levels and motivations. Competition is only one part of the experience. As the founders of Disc Downtown put it, “if you were to divvy up a Disc Downtown event, it would be 50 percent fun, 40 percent introducing new players, and 10 percent competition” (Feidt 2017). Some disc golf groups show a kind of anarchistic disdain for the rules, standards, and culture of competitive events. Large crowds of players stream through disc golf courses, heedless of safety concerns, proper throwing order, and other forms of etiquette. Referred to by some as “mob golf,” these groups follow various rules and rituals, but the experience almost always diverges from the typical competitive PDGA tournament. Other casual disc golf groups, friendship circles, dyads, and lone wolves play regularly and according to conventional rules, but rarely, if ever, keep score or acknowledge the winners and losers at the end of a round. Although little is known about this type of disc golfer, it is moderately clear that a considerable number of people regularly play alone, or with a few partners on an ad hoc basis. In this way, alternative ideological constructions are not only shaped by formal clubs, but also by individual players and small friendship circles. Like surfing or skateboarding, disc golf can be enjoyed in a variety of ways that do not require the presence of others. For instance, in Zen and the Art of Disc Golf, Patrick McCormick (2014) outlines an alternative, non-competitive, inward-looking, meditative approach to the game. McCormick is an active player, but rarely competes in PDGA-sanctioned events. He claims to be motivated by internal rewards alone and argues that a fixation on beating the competition is a recipe for unhappiness. “My standard for fun on the course,” he writes, “is being outside playing a game I love, possibly with the company of people I enjoy. And because this happens every round … I have a much higher chance of finding enjoyment” (McCormick 2016, 52). For McCormick, partners are optional: “Not many sports can be played alone, in the woods or the fields, where a man (or woman) can be alone with his or her thoughts” (2014, 27). The disc golf course is McCormick’s solitary oasis, a place to relax, decompress, and escape the distractions of “jobs, bills, families and money” (2014, 22). Zen and the Art of Disc Golf

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is not simply a treatise on the spiritual path of disc golf, but also represents a quiet, if insistent, call for paradigm shift, for a way of seeing sports and leisure that contrasts with the ideological frameworks of most popular sports. Like the DOLLs, McCormick’s Buddhist-inspired approach is closer to the lifestyle domain than the modern achievement domain. But unlike the DOLLs, his reasons for playing do not require a sense of we-­ ness that characterizes group life.

Conclusion Wheaton has identified nine characteristics of lifestyle sports. Almost all of them— new, innovative, non-aggressive, boundaryless, homogeneous, non-competitive, participatory, and committed—are suitable for defining the lifestyle domain of disc golf. While many groups and individuals engage in disc golf as a lifestyle, the dominant institutional actors are focused on growing the modern achievement domain. As a result, the innovations that characterized early periods have slowed, and standardization is on the rise. Through technical and organizational development, the nature of the game has become more aggressive, competitive, and rule oriented. Recent efforts to commercialize disc golf have ushered in a new trend: many disc golfers are now spending more time watching the sport than playing it. While the players of both domains share a high level of commitment to the sport, their cultural repertoires and motives for playing differ. On the one hand, this cultural heterogeneity has fostered a large, diverse participant pool. On the other hand, the lack of cultural cohesiveness has hindered the sport’s ability to unite large numbers of players under a common flag. Conflicting interests among committed players create coordination problems, especially when the primary organizational goals are in question and members of the community pursue different visions of the sport. In the context of league and tournament organizing, there are countless decisions that favor the values of one domain over the other. Adding to the difficulty of developing a culturally cohesive disc golf community is the vast number of people who are new to the sport and have little knowledge of the insider’s perspective. Disc golf clubs are in a constant state of player turnover. Veterans of the sport sometimes suffer injuries or move on to other responsibilities. Intermediate and advanced players often lose interest after two or three years (Woods 2019a). Each year, thousands of novice players experiment with disc golf; many become

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new members of a disc golf group, while many others simply move on. Changes in the leadership and composition of a movement can lead to divergent expectations and goals and thereby jeopardize the consensus needed for a movement to persist and grow. Yet, the disc golf movement has persevered, expanded, and formalized. Participation in some local clubs has ebbed and flowed, but many of them have thrived. While most people who try the sport never commit to the lifestyle, a surprising number of them become deeply enmeshed in both playing and growing the sport by building and maintaining courses, organizing tournaments, starting businesses, and engaging with other disc golfers via social media. The questions to be answered in the chapters ahead are: What holds the community together, and what social and psychological factors promote growth, despite disc golf’s cultural divide?

References Alexander, Jeffrey C. 2003. The Meanings of Social Life: A Cultural Sociology. New York: Oxford University Press. Beal, Becky, and Charlene Wilson. 2004. “‘Chicks Dig Scars’: Commercialization and the Transformations of Skateboarders’ Identities.” Pp. 31–54 in Belinda Wheaton, ed. Understanding Lifestyle Sports: Consumption, Identity, and Difference. New York, NY: Routledge. Booth, D., and H.  Thorpe. 2007. The Meaning of Extreme. In D.  Booth and H.  Thorpe, eds. Berkshire Encyclopedia of Extreme Sports. Great Barrington: Berkshire Reference Works. Booth, Douglas. 2004. “Surfing: From One (Cultural) Extreme to Another.” Pp. 94–110 in Belinda Wheaton, ed. Understanding Lifestyle Sports: Consumption, Identity, and Difference. New York, NY: Routledge. Brewer, Marilyna B., and S. Schneider. 1990. “Social Identity and Social Dilemmas: A Double-Edged Sword.” In Social Identity Theory: Constructive and Critical Advances. D.  Abrams and M.  Hogg, eds. Pp. 169–184. London: Harvester Wheatsheaf. DeLamater, John D., and Amanda Ward, eds. 2013. Handbook of Social Psychology. Second edition. Handbooks of Sociology and Social Research. New York: Springer. Dupont, Tyler. 2014. “From Core to Consumer: The Informal Hierarchy of the Skateboard Scene.” Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 43(5):556–81. Durrant, Todd. 2017. “State of Disc Golf 2017 Results – Who Took the Survey?” Infinite Discs Blog, February 17. https://infinitediscs.com/blog/ state-­of-­disc-­golf-­2017-­results-­who-­took-­the-­survey/ Feidt, Joe. 2017. “Disc Golf Reimagined.” DiscGolfer Magazine, Winter edition.

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Gaertner, Samuel L., John F. Dovidio, J. A. Nier, C. M. Ward, and B. S. Banker. 1999. “Across Cultural Divides: The Value of a Superordinate Identity.” In Cultural Divides: Understanding and Overcoming Group Conflict. D. A. Prentice and D. T. Miller, eds. Pp. 173–212. New York: Russell Sage. Gilchrist, Paul, and Belinda Wheaton. 2011. “Lifestyle sport, public policy and youth engagement: examining the emergence of parkour.” International Journal of Sport Policy and Politics (3)1:109–131. Guttman, Allen. 1978. From Ritual to Record: The Nature of Modern Sports. New York: Columbia University Press. Hays, Sharon. 2000. “Constructing the Centrality of Culture and Deconstructing Sociology.” Contemporary Sociology 29:594–602. Hegemann, Ted. 2016. “Disc Golfer Demographics: Location, Age, Gender and Brand Preference.” Infinite Discs Blog, March 4. Hill, Steve. 2016. “McMahon On Disc Golf’s Move To Ball Golf Courses: ‘It’s Not Fun.’” Ultiworld Disc Golf, June 3. Hofstede, G. 1980. Culture’s consequences. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Hofstede, G. 1991. Cultures and organizations: Software of the mind. London, England: McGraw-Hill. Infinite Discs. 2014. “The state of disc golf 2014—Who are you?” Infinite Discs, January 28. https://infinitediscs.com/blog/the-­state-­of-­disc-­golf-­growth Jackson, James S., Shelley Keiper Keioper, Kendrick T. Brown, Tony N. Brown, and Warde Manuel. 2002. “Athletic Identity, Racial Attitudes, and Aggression in First-Year Black and White Intercollegiate Athletes.” In Paradoxes of Youth and Sport. Margaret Gatz, Michael A. Messner, and Sandera J. Ball-Rokeach, eds. Pp. 159–172. Albany: SUNY Press. Kennedy, Chuck. 2016. “Most Dominant Disc Golfers of the Past 10 Years.” PDGA, October 24. Kernan, Claudia L., and Patricia M.  Greenfield. 2005. “Becoming a Team: Individualism, Collectivism, Ethnicity, and Group Socialization in Los Angeles Girls’ Basketball.” Ethos 33(4):542–66. Lasch, Christopher. 1977. “The Corruption of Sports.” New York Review of Books, April 28. McCormick, Patrick D. 2014. Zen and the Art of Disc Golf. ZDG Press. McCormick, Patrick D. 2016. Discs and Zen: More writings on disc golf and life. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform. Mohoney, H.K. 2014. “An economic study of the Richmond Hill Disc Golf Course.” Proceedings of the National Conference On Undergraduate Research, April 3–5:84–94. Moss, R. 2001. Golf and the American Country Club. Urbana: University of Illinois Press.

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Nelson, J.T., R.E. Jones, M. Runstrom, and J. Hardy. 2015. “Disc Golf, a Growing Sport: Description and Epidemiology of Injuries.” Orthopaedic Journal of Sports Medicine 3(6): 1–5. Oldakowski, R., and J. W. Mcewen. 2013. “Diffusion of disc golf courses in the United States.” Geographical Review 103(3): 355–371. Palmeri, Jim, and Phil Kennedy. 2015. A Chain of Events: The Origin and Evolution of Disc Golf. Wethersfield, Connecticut: Wormhole. Palmeri, Jim. 2017. “Two perspectives on disc golf and why we need them both.” Parked, September 11. https://parkeddiscgolf.org/2017/09/11/ two-­perspectives-­on-­disc-­golf-­and-­why-­we-­need-­them-­both/ Parked. 2016. “Disc golfers take over holiday lights display area for charity event.” Parked, December 7. https://parkeddiscgolf.org/2016/12/07/ disc-­golfers-­take-­over-­holiday-­lights-­display-­at-­charity-­event/ Parked. 2017a. “Disc golf and the construction of happiness.” Parked, April 10. h t t p s : / / p a r k e d d i s c g o l f . o r g / 2 0 1 7 / 0 4 / 1 0 / d i s c -­g o l f -­a n d -­t h e -­ construction-­of-­happiness/ Parked. 2017b. “Women’s disc golf network takes root in Wisconsin: An interview with Jenny San Filippo.” Parked, February 7. https://parkeddiscgolf. org/2017/02/07/womens-­disc-­golf-­network/ PDGA. 2019. 2018 PDGA Year End Demographics. PDGA, Accessed January 9, 2021. Retrieved from http://www.pdga.com/documents/demographics. Rahbek, M.A., and R.O. Nielson. 2016. “Injuries in disc golf – A descriptive cross-­ sectional study.” International Journal of Sports Physical Therapy 11(1):132–40. Rinehart, R., and S. Sydor, eds. 2003. To the Extreme: Alternative Sports, Inside and Out. Albany: State University of New York Press. Robinson, Victoria. 2004. “Taking Risks: Identity, Masculinities and Rock Climbing.” Pp. 113–130  in Belinda Wheaton, ed. Understanding lifestyle sports: Consumption, identity, and difference. New York, NY: Routledge. Roddick, Dan. 2016. “The Evolution of Flying Disc Technical Standards and the Sustainability Initiative.” PDGA, November 6. https://www.pdga.com/ evolution-­flying-­disc-­technical-­standards-­and-­sustainability-­initiative Shields, R. 1992. Lifestyle Shopping. London: Routledge. Siniscalchi, Jason M. 2004. “The Personal and Community Benefits of Disc Golf to Rural America (and Beyond).” PDGA, Accessed January 9, 2021. http:// www.pdga.com/files/BenefitsOfDiscGolf-­Siniscalchi_1.pdf Swidler, Ann. 1986. “Culture in Action: Symbols and Strategies.” American Sociological Review 51:273–86. Swidler, Ann. 1995. “Cultural Power and Social Movements.” Pp. 25–40 in Social Movements and Culture. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Thornton, A. 2004. “Anyone can play this game: Ultimate Frisbee, identity and difference.” In: B.  Wheaton, ed. Understanding lifestyle sports: Consumption, identity and difference, pp. 175–196. New York: Routledge.

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Tönnies, F. 1957. Community and Association (C. P. Loomis, Trans.). New York: Harper Torchbooks. (Original work published 1887). Van Bottenburg, Maarten, and Lotte Salome. 2010. “The indoorisation of outdoor sports: an exploration of the rise of lifestyle sports in artificial settings.” Leisure Studies 29(2):143–160. Vernegaard, K., B.T. Johansen, and T. Haugen. 2017. “Students’ motivation in a disc golf-lesson and a soccer-lesson: An experimental study in the physical education setting.” Journal for Research in Arts and Sports Education 1(3):32–46. Weber, M. 1930. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. New  York: Routledge. (Original work published 1887). WFDF. 2016. “The Spirit of the Game.” WFDF. Accessed January 9, 2021. http://www.wfdf.org/sotg/about-­sotg Wheaton, Belinda, ed. 2004. Understanding Lifestyle Sports: Consumption, Identity, and Difference. New York: Routledge. Williams, Rhys H. 2004. “The Cultural Contexts of Collective Action: Constraints, Opportunities, and the Symbolic Life of Social Movements” (91–115). In Snow, David A., Sarah Anne Soule, and Hanspeter Kriesi (eds.). The Blackwell Companion to Social Movements. Malden, MA: Blackwell Pub. Woods, Joshua. 2016. “A Guide to YouTube Putting Instruction.” Ultiworld Disc Golf, December 20. https://discgolf.ultiworld.com/2016/12/20/guideyoutube-putting-­instruction-­part-­1 Woods, Joshua. 2019a. “Using Social Media to Estimate the Size and Demographic Characteristics of Hard-to-Reach Sport Communities: The Case of Disc Golf.” International Journal of Sport Communication 12(1):36–54.

CHAPTER 5

Group Integration and Disruption in Disc Golf Social Media

To the millennial disc golfer, today’s communication technology may seem unremarkable. The ability to create messages, photos, and videos and spread them instantly through a global network has always been around. But, in the early 1990s, things were different on the disc golf course. Media coverage of major events was scarce. Fans had to wait for months as film crews produced and edited their footage, recorded it onto VHS tapes, and distributed it through the postal system. There were a few disc golf magazines and newsletters, but they struggled with high production costs and low circulations. None of them still exist today. Random news items appeared in  local newspapers and television broadcasts, but there was no regular coverage of disc golf tournaments in mainstream news. Organizing events often involved creating and disseminating physical fliers and calling people on the telephone. In the 2000s, with the rise of social networking sites, new mobile technologies, improvements in cell phone cameras, the availability of digital video and editing software and countless clever apps, it became cheaper and easier to produce and distribute media content. A greater number and variety of disc golf media gave the sport more visibility, connected the community, and allowed players and fans to become personally engaged in the culture, learn new skills, and access more information about the sport. Several video crews and photographers began capturing tournament coverage at a rate unheard of in the past. By 2020, there were thousands of events available to watch free on YouTube. Some of these © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Woods, Emerging Sports as Social Movements, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-76457-9_5

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videographers, such as Jomez Productions and SmashBoxxTV, formed sustainable media companies that followed the professional tour and supplied footage of premier tournaments, while many others produced video content and photographs of local events as a hobby. Top professionals like Simon Lizotte and influencers like Brodie Smith were building their brands on Instagram and generating YouTube ad revenue by creating videos on a wide array of topics, from disc golf instruction to amazing trick shots. Amateur disc golfers across the globe gathered in Facebook groups, Reddit, Twitter, and Discord; posted photos, memes, and videos; celebrated their triumphs and failures; and discussed every topic and expressed every opinion imaginable in their digital communities. With immediate access to videos, streaming services, online scoring platforms, news media, blogs, and podcasts, the options for content consumption and creation seemed limitless. Accelerated partly by the COVID-19 pandemic in early 2020, many tournaments were organized through online registration platforms like Disc Golf Scene and promoted through digital communities on Facebook and other social media. Even local leagues could be run through the internet on the UDisc scoring platform. For emerging sports movements that receive little support from traditional institutions, social media provide an efficient, cost-effective means of communication that has likely bolstered the development of countless recreational and sports clubs across the world. Yet, social media also have a well-known dark side. Facebook groups can serve as vehicles for grievances and intragroup conflicts, which may reduce social cohesion and lead to the splintering of groups. The goal of this chapter is to evaluate these potential integrative and disruptive aspects of disc golf social media. Although several sports scholars have studied how social media are affecting major sports organizations, less is known about the influence of user-generated content and social media on the development of small, emerging sports communities, and no study has examined the case of disc golf. To fill this gap, this chapter dives into the world of disc golf Facebook. Based on a qualitative analysis of 123 randomly selected disc golf Facebook groups, I argue that, even though social media can intensify conflicts, the disc golf movement has managed to utilize it in ways that benefit the sport’s organization, group cohesion, and identity, while mostly avoiding interpersonal tensions and conflict.

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Social Media: Integrator or Disruptor of Emerging Sports? Integrator It is hard to overestimate the usefulness of social networking sites to emerging sports movements. These groups are small. They lack popularity, institutional support, and elite media coverage. Their members are spread across vast geographical regions. Social media like Facebook can help connect and integrate the members of these movements and provide essential features of group life, including information about activities, status, entertainment, fun, group identity, and a sense of belonging (Park et al. 2009). Sports communities can also use Facebook to encourage a sense of excitement—or “stoke” (Smith 2020, 1)—surrounding participation. The feeling of being stoked can, in turn, motivate people to play the sport and support the movement. In other words, social media, as an extension of face-to-face settings, can help establish the “collective consciousness” of a sports movement (Durkheim 2013). Several scholars have shown how web-based technologies and social media have fostered the growth of other lifestyle sports (Evers 2015; Kidder 2012; Thorpe 2014, 2017; Smith 2020; Dupont 2020). A study of parkour, aka free running, offers a useful framework for studying disc golf (Gilchrist and Wheaton 2013). When the researchers were working on this project in the early 2010s, parkour, like disc golf, had not yet experienced high levels of commercialization. For both sports, social media proliferated and participation rates increased in the absence of traditional media coverage. Disc golfers and practitioners of parkour, known as traceurs, utilize social media in similar ways. Both use Facebook and other platforms to organize meet-ups, commonly referred to as jams in parkour (Atkinson 2009) and rounds in disc golf. Coordinated via social media, meet-ups can sometimes involve distant travel where participants join in face-to-face encounters with complete strangers from different states or even countries. Crowd-sourced websites and directories are used by disc golfers and traceurs to help fellow participants find choice locations (courses or routes). YouTube and other social media house seemingly endless supplies of disc golf and parkour instruction, recommendations, advertisements, and reviews of equipment, shoes and clothing, and health and fitness tips.

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The practitioner, in either case, takes an active role in consuming as well as producing media. Perhaps more so than any other device, the mobile phone camera has ruptured the territorial control of professional photographers, videographers, and journalists, and allowed prosumers at all levels to express and promote themselves and construct the images and cultures of the respective scenes. Many disc golfers and traceurs assume the role of amateur sports promoters who attempt to educate outsiders, while encouraging and protecting insider cultures and identities. While the technical quality of the output may be lacking in many cases, a wide range of mediated displays provide entertainment, inspiration, and identity to the respective communities. At the same time, social media should not be conceptualized as a closed system of prosumers and specialized content creators. Outside links and references to mainstream news items and other forms of popular culture on the web are intermixed with original insider content on the platforms commonly used by emerging sports groups. In sum, the members of sports movements use social media to seek and share information, status, identity, fun, and stoke (Park et  al. 2009; Gilchrist and Wheaton 2013; Smith 2020; Dupont 2020). Together these behaviors may help coordinate activities, encourage a sense of belonging, provide a unified understanding of what it means to be a traceur, disc golfer, or other lifestyle sport enthusiast, and thereby foster group cohesion and participation growth. Disruptor Social media have the potential to create or intensify three types of disruption in disc golf groups. First, disc golfers may use social media to amplify their complaints and spread negative publicity about a fellow member, leader, group, private firm, or organization. These complaints are typically not addressed to the offending party for the sake of remediation, but rather projected to an online community, where a single member’s frustration can snowball into a homogeneous chorus of critical voices (Yany et al. 2015, 2019). Though well-recognized for its social significance by scholars, complaining is difficult to define, as it does not always have an obvious meaning or function (Kowalewski 2019). For the purpose of studying Facebook groups, I differentiate complaining from other forms of conflict by defining it as a one-sided articulation of grievance. When a complaint merely reverberates within the echo chamber of an ideologically unified Facebook group and does not reach the offending party, nor face a

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rejoinder, it is less likely to harm relationships between members than other forms of conflict. Second, social media can also provide a platform for intragroup debates, controversies, and conflicts. Disagreements about the rules, procedures, and inner workings of disc golf clubs and organizations are sometimes displayed and amplified through posts, comments, emojis, and memes in Facebook groups. A unique type of intragroup conflict involves quarrels of a personal nature, usually between two individuals. Marwick and Boyd (2014) refer to these conflicts as “drama” and define it as “performative, interpersonal conflict that takes place in front of an active, engaged audience, often on social media” (1191). Given the properties of drama online, including its high visibility and the ease of bystander participation, some cases of drama may alter group dynamics and foster larger scale intragroup conflicts (Marwick and Boyd 2014). For instance, during a debate, two members may exchange personal insults that have little to do with the argument on either side and only intensify the debate emotionally. Caution should be used when identifying drama and distinguishing it from benign forms of conflictual interpersonal interaction, such as playful teasing or “trash talk.” Finally, interactions on social media may also intensify intergroup conflicts within the disc golf community (between two rival clubs, for instance), and between disc golf groups and non-disc golf groups, such as parks departments, other recreational groups, real-estate developers, and law enforcement agencies (Tajfel and Turner 1986). Disc golf lacks a powerful central authority that can discourage and manage such disputes. While complaining, intragroup conflicts and intergroup conflicts can harm and disrupt sports movements; conflicts can also help groups establish a sense of identity and mobilize members in collective action against rivals (Coser 1956). Given the double-edged nature of social conflict, it is important to examine the processes of conflict as they emerge in social media groups to better understand their consequences.

Research Objectives This chapter has two aims. First, I identify and describe the themes of interaction in disc golf groups on Facebook. A theme is a category that represents an underlying subjective meaning that is used in multiple posts. Researchers use thematic analysis to reveal patterns in the manifest and latent content of communication (Braun and Clarke 2006). My thematic

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analysis is guided by the following questions: What kinds of information, entertainment, and fun do group members seek and share? In what ways do people give and take social status? What is stoke and how is it expressed? How is group identity promoted and protected? What do members complain about? Upon what are intragroup and intergroup conflicts based? Can drama be detected and what does it look like? As discussed, I expect answers to these questions to fall along five integrative themes (information, status, identity, fun, and stoke) and three disruptive themes (complaints, intragroup conflict, and intergroup conflict). My second goal is to explore the processes of integration and disruption in disc golf social media. By processes, I mean the ways in which group members interact online and establish relationships with each other through cooperation, camaraderie, and conflict. An initial post in Facebook can prompt a chain of processes, including likes, emoji reactions, shares, comments, and replies. These behaviors are signs of audience engagement that hold clues about the effects of virtual interactions on group life in the physical world (Cvijikj and Michahelles 2013). Working through an inductive-deductive research cycle, I observe and reflect upon the themes and processes, and then, drawing primarily on social psychological research, consider how these interactions may affect groups. This aim is directed by the following questions: What kinds of information, entertainment, stoke, and status seeking are liked by others, and what kinds are rejected or shunned? How do social media interactions affect group cohesion? How do identities form through interactions? What does the escalation of conflict look like on social media?

Method To construct a sampling frame for this study, I searched Facebook for disc golf groups in 2017. Given that the sport has multiple monikers, I tested three different search terms. The dominant label “disc golf” returned 2612 US-based groups. The term “Frisbee golf” returned a similar set of Facebook groups as the disc golf search. However, the term “frolf” (an alternative name that combines the words Frisbee and golf) returned fewer groups. Among the 601 frolf groups, only twelve of them contained the term “disc golf” in the title. For this reason, a random numbers generator was used to select an equivalent proportion of groups (3.8 percent) from the two populations (100 of the 2612 disc golf groups, and 23 of the 601 frolf groups). This resulted in a total sample of 123 groups. There was

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not a single case of overlap between the two samples. Groups based outside the US were excluded from the sample. Groups intended for the sale or exchange of disc golf equipment were also excluded. Two researchers conducted a qualitative content analysis of all initial posts and interactions in 66 of the 123 groups in the sample. Thirty-one groups were classified as “closed group” and therefore excluded for ethical reasons. Given that a comprehensive analysis of all posts was not feasible for the largest and most active groups, we analyzed posts to the point of data saturation in the remaining twenty-six units. The coding procedure took place in June and July 2020. The earliest posts were made in early 2007 and the latest posts were made on July 31, 2020. All relevant posts and interactions were copied and pasted into an electronic archive; all names and identifying information were deleted. Each group’s “About” section, number of members and administrative rules were also archived. Pseudonyms for individuals, groups, and organizations were used in the description of results; geographical identifiers were deleted from quotes.

General Patterns Without relying on enumerative evidence, a few general patterns in the qualitative data were self-evident. Most of the groups were created for the expressed purpose of organizing play or disc golf course development. Meet-up posts and notifications about competitive events and workdays could be found in nearly all the groups in the sample. Larger groups were more likely to post information about organized competitions such as leagues and tournaments, while smaller groups were more focused on setting up casual play with friends. The analysis revealed how group structure and behavior, both online and offline, changed over time. For instance, scrolling through one group’s posts over a five-year period, I saw how three or four friends transitioned from playing “object golf” in a public park to establishing a mid-sized club and constructing an eighteen-hole course with permanent baskets and tee pads. Some of the oldest and biggest Facebook groups were organizing multiple events each year and developing and maintaining several courses over a relatively large geographical area. At first glance, the abundance of meet-up posts, workday notices, tips, advice, and other types of practical information suggested that social media functioned as little more than a communication tool. Not unlike email or a bulletin board, Facebook posts were routinely used for

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one-to-many transmissions of information to coordinate specific plans. Yet, our analysis also uncovered a more complex set of social interactions and communal experiences. Many Facebook posts provided a sense of belonging, identity, social status, and stoke to their members, as well as a source of entertainment. The sheer volume of interactions in many groups showed that participant-based social media represented a major source of media consumption. While interactions appeared to have several integrative effects, some signs of tension and conflict were also evident. Complaints were sometimes loud and intragroup conflicts boiled over at times, though high-stakes conflicts and ideological divides were rarely observed. With these broad strokes in place, my aim now is to categorize the main themes of interaction and explain how they may have affected group life in the virtual and physical worlds.

Integration Information Seeking and Sharing In line with previous research on Facebook groups, disc golfers used social media to satisfy specific information needs (Kordzadeh and Young 2018; Valerio et  al. 2015; Cvijikj and Michahelles 2013; Moore-Russo et  al. 2017). Users sought and shared five types of information: events, courses, lost and found, instruction, and advertising. Event posts typically included the date/time/location and registration cost of face-to-face play or competition. Information about other events, such as workdays, board meetings, and social gatherings, was also sought and shared by users. Processes of inclusivity and friendliness were evident in the framing of and reactions to event posts, especially ones intended for spur-of-the-moment meet ups at the course. The countless meet-up posts were typically brief, informational, approachable, and addressed to everyone in the group. Judging from an analysis of likes and RSVP comments, these posts appeared to facilitate a variety of groupings in face-to-face gatherings. Helpful information about courses was another staple in most Facebook groups. Members posted or asked for information about course locations, driving directions, parking tips, hours of operations, the best courses in an area or along a travel itinerary, top scores on courses, crowdedness, weather, and an array of course conditions (general maintenance level, baskets and pads, wetness, snow, ice, garbage, poison ivy). A group’s page sometimes functioned as an early warning system, alerting members about

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new hazards on the course, such as flooding, downed trees, hornet nests, poisonous plants, dangerous wildlife, and punitive policing in an area. Facebook groups also served as digital reservoirs for lost-and-found items on courses. Posts about discs were most common, but I discovered a surprisingly wide variety of lost-item reports (car keys, cell phones, sunglasses, a shoe, gloves, landscaping tools, a vape pen, a small wooden box likely containing cannabis for which a large reward was offered). Various forms of instruction and advice, both unsolicited and sought, were widely available. The phrase “form-check please” was often used by players who posted videos of their throws and asked others to evaluate their throwing techniques. Some members posted links to instructional videos featuring professional players on YouTube. Others asked for advice about the performance of discs and the cost of discs and other equipment. I was not surprised to find several posts containing personal reports of injury, questions about injury recovery and prevention and health-related tips and advice, especially in groups with high proportions of tournament players. According to two studies, roughly 80 percent of disc golfers sustain at least one physical injury while playing (Nelson et al. 2015; Rahbek and Nielson 2016). Among the posts about events, courses, lost-and-found items, and instruction, seeking information tended to generate more interactions (likes and comments) than sharing information. Specific questions were answered almost immediately and often contained detailed information from the vantage of multiple members. These processes point to the efficiency of social media as an information source and suggest that helping is a common behavior in disc golf groups. Per previous studies, helping behavior has many potential benefits for groups, as it increases group cohesion and performance, promotes cooperative group norms, and reduces conflict (Anderson and Williams 1996; Organ 1988; Ng and Van Dyne 2005; Kidwell et al. 1997). Posts containing information, images, and links that promoted or advertised products and service were rare but could be detected in most groups. I discovered ads for discs, bags, carts, shirts, shoes, socks, hats, towels, health products, disc golf lessons, private courses, disc golf vacations, equipment for playing night golf, disc-golf-styled granola bars, beef jerky, beer, ringtones, blogs, media websites, Facebook pages, YouTube channels, photographs, paintings, crowd-funding links, raffles, and fundraising events, as well as the products and services of non-disc-golf-related businesses that were owned and operated by members of the disc golf

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community. Posting overt ads seemed to deviate from group norms and was often shunned by members (no likes, comments, or shares). Some groups listed prohibitions on ads in their “about” sections or limited the number of ads that members could post per month. Giving and Taking Status Weber (1978) defined status as an “effective claim to social esteem” (305). The esteem of individuals depends on the positions they occupy in a specific setting. Within disc golf groups on Facebook, claims of esteem were usually directed at individuals based on their performance of three roles, including player, course worker, and event organizer. Status claims were made by the people who carried out the role (self-promotion), as well as by others who evaluated their performance (other promotion). The most obvious status hierarchy in disc golf involves competitive play. Many disc golf clubs purchase small, rectangular “tags” and distribute one to each member based on their scores during a league round or competitive event. Given that tags are numbered, each member’s position in the hierarchy is made explicit. In fact, tags are designed to be attached to a player’s disc golf bag. Winning “the #1 tag” conveys the highest level of prestige to a player. Tags also come in different color groupings, which further reveals a player’s status. Social media posts that identified the current #1 tag holder with a photo or description occasionally emerged in competitive disc golf groups on Facebook. Yet, tag display was less common than routine forms of status conveyance. For instance, some clubs used their Facebook pages for reporting weekly league scores. Posts about tournament wins and losses, record-­ breaking rounds, incredible throws, hard-fought birdies, and especially “aces” (the completion of a hole in one throw) were part of the ongoing discussion in most groups. An iconic image involved a smiling player waving a number one finger sign and proudly standing next to the basket into which he or she just threw an ace. Some players posted information about their own successes, but blatant self-promotion was less common than status claims via other promotion. Self- and other promotion posts involved at least two processes. First, self-promotion posts tended to receive fewer likes and comments than other promotion posts. Second, self-promotion often engaged members in competitive banter. For instance, when one member posted about their current possession of the #1 tag, other members expressed their intentions

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to regain or take the tag soon. These reactions were typically delivered in a lighthearted tone or were hyperbolic to the point of suggesting a humorous intent. Although trash talk can produce adversarial relationships and diminish group cohesion (Duncan 2019), the cases revealed by this study were predominantly prosocial, judging from the nature of the comments and mutual likes between would-be adversaries. Most disc golf courses are in public parks, but the amount of municipal support available to each course varies. Some clubs notified their members about several “work weekends” in a row, while others rarely used Facebook to organize volunteer labor. Still, aside from a few groups with low post volumes, nearly all the units in the sample included at least a few examples of course stewardship, such as posts about members removing a downed tree, edging a tee pad, or cleaning up garbage on the course. The workers themselves often documented their efforts with photos and descriptions and posted them on Facebook. These posts tended to generate a higher-­ than-­average number of positive reactions in the form of likes, comments, and memes. Like other lifestyle sports movements, such as BMX dirt jumping (Smith 2020), the persistent challenges of constructing or maintaining the sport’s infrastructure on public land brought disc golfers together through supportive communicative actions. Status claims regarding the organizers of tournaments and leagues were less consistent across groups than worker acknowledgments. Small, loosely organized groups did not appear to have official organizers, making praise of this kind unnecessary. Some groups appeared to rely on volunteers or a single director but rarely commented on this role. Still, occasional notes of gratitude and friendly endorsements of organizers were found in several groups. Posts of this kind focused on the quality of an event—for instance, the way “everything ran smoothly”—or the large amount of time, energy, and money donated by organizers. Praise of organizers almost always materialized as other promotion rather than self-promotion. These posts typically generated an above-average number of positive interactions. In general, the larger the event, the more likely were organizational status claims and related interactions. Affirming and Protecting Identity Per social identity theory, part of a person’s sense of self comes from identifying with groups (Tajfel and Turner 1986). As the social standing of a group rises or falls, so too does the self-esteem of its members. The link

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between group- and self-identity presents a problem for non-normative sports movements, which, by definition, tend to have lower levels of social status than mainstream sports. The status of these groups amounts to nothing in the minds of those who have never heard of them and sometimes rests on negative attitudes among those who have. When the identity of a group is discredited or demeaned by negative stereotypes, critical commentary in media, and popular culture, or mockery in interpersonal settings, the self-concepts of group members are threatened. In response, members may take measures to protect their self-esteem. One possibility is to deemphasize or hide their affiliations with threatened groups. For example, in Ultimate Glory, Gessner (2017) described how he and other players sometimes concealed their passion for ultimate Frisbee. In the minds of most people, he wrote, ultimate was like “tiddlywinks,” “hopscotch,” or “a thing you do with dogs,” “a sport for long-hairs and druggies,” a shameful preoccupation that players hid from their parents and coworkers. While an analysis of Facebook posts cannot detect such behavior, I have learned through personal interviews that some disc golfers have been reluctant to post and comment about disc golf through their personal or professional social media accounts. A second response is to affirm and protect the threatened group’s identity. This occurred in several ways in disc golf Facebook groups. Many posts highlighted the group’s positive achievements, elevated disc golf’s image, and defended it from perceived threats. Seeking and sharing these posts may have allowed members to “bask in the reflected glory” of their groups and boost their self-esteem (Cialdini et al. 1976, 366). Posts that affirm the values of the group may also reduce members’ physiological stress, increase their ability to complete complex tasks and make them feel less vulnerable to identity threats (Derks et  al. 2006, 2007; Spencer-­ Rodgers et  al. 2016; Rydell et  al. 2009). Referred to here as “identity maintenance,” posts that affirmed group values emerged in two forms: favoritism and boosting. I define favoritism as a preferential comparison between at least two social entities (Tajfel 1981). Favoritism occurred on Facebook when group members ranked or evaluated two or more courses, clubs, leagues, tournaments, regions, or sports. Some debates about the quality of courses included favoritism. Disc golfers generally avoided preferential comparisons between specific clubs, tournaments, or regions, but several posts expressed favoritism in intergroup contexts where disc golf was compared to another sport. For instance, disc golf was described as more

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“affordable,” “easier to learn,” “less time consuming” and more “laid back” than traditional golf. Some posts were emotionally expressive and suggested the existence of a rivalry or cultural rift between the two sports. One post read, “Real friends don’t let friends play BALL GOLF!!!!!!” Another stated, “Golf is dead. Long live Disc Golf!” Members of Facebook groups regularly serviced the mood and morale of the community by posting favorable descriptions or images of specific groups, the superordinate representation of disc golf, or the experience of playing it. I call these posts boosting. Boosting is like other promotion and favoritism, but it is directed at collectivities and shared experiences, rather than individuals, and does not involve a preferential comparison. Common to the point of mundane, boosting took several forms: the glowing first impressions of a new player, someone’s recounting of a memorable round with friends, group photos featuring dozens of tournament goers, a photo of a club mascot, a meme promoting the sport with a riff on Star Wars (“MAY THE COURSE BE WITH YOU”), an attractive photo of a basket with a sunset in the background. Through photography and storytelling, some groups shared a nearly constant stream of optimistic photos, videos, and anecdotes about friendships, group affiliations, or the sport itself. Like a family photo album, boosting may help construct and maintain a group’s cohesion and identity in part by glorifying the past (Georgakopoulou et al. 2009). Boosting emerged as a standalone theme, as when someone shared a favorable disc golf meme, but often leaked into posts intended for other purposes. For instance, a post offering routine event information might also contain open praise for a disc golf club. In addition to offering rudimentary details about a league round, one post read, “So many wonderful things tonight!” and included multiple group photos of smiling people. Having Fun What does it mean to have fun on social media? From a uses and justifications perspective, the production and consumption of entertainment occur through deliberate, individual endeavors (Park et al. 2009). Fun on Facebook is the product of a conscious exchange between producers and consumers of enjoyable posts and interactions. Yet, this definition does not fully capture the often impulsive, communal aspects of fun in the virtual and physical worlds of disc golf. Alternatively, Gary Allen Fine and Ugo Corte (2017) define fun as “a collaborative and unscripted sequence

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of action that produces—and is perceived as producing—joint hedonic satisfaction” (65). At home in this definition are two key ideas. First, fun is a collective experience. People may find pleasure in throwing putts alone in the backyard, but Fine and Corte’s concept of fun requires at least two people. Fun is greater than the sum of its parts. When people come together and have it, each of them receives something greater than what could be achieved alone. Second, fun can be intended or hoped for, but can never be fully scripted. Fun marks the moment when planned behavior ruptures and spontaneity takes hold. I observed the social, spontaneous version of fun in several posts. For instance, players sometimes posted photos of the unique places where their discs ended up by mistake—sticking straight out of the ground (“tombstoned”), lodged in a tree, between the cage bars of a basket, in the hood of a car, or stuck in a pumpkin. A few groups were laden with inside jokes and comical banter between members. I found photos of one league round where players were dressed in elaborate Halloween costumes. There was a video of a top-professional athlete throwing eighteen holes in an inflatable T-Rex costume. Jokes were more likely to be directed at the self than others. Self-­ deprecation, a master frame in disc golfers’ self-presentation, was a consistent theme across multiple groups. We collected roughly a dozen self-deprecating memes alone. As an example, one post included a photo of “the most interesting man” from the Dos Equis beer commercials with the caption: “I don’t always make birdies, but when I do, I double bogey the very next hole.” The number of likes and other interactions on this post was greater than usual. The use of humorous self-deprecation, as shown in previous research, is known to encourage social cohesion, commiseration, and rapport among group members (Speer 2019; Matwick and Matwick 2017). The self-deprecating comments that I observed seemed to signal a willingness to coopt skill-based hierarchies, normalize the challenges of mastering the sport, or at least avoid directing jokes at others. In general, the silliness of so many disc golfers, and their readiness to project it in public Facebook groups, for seemingly no reason aside from sharing a laugh, suggested that fun on social media was partly a spillover from the fun disc golfers had in face-to-face encounters, but also a structural affordance itself that helped groups flourish amid rivalries, conflicts, and other obstacles to solidarity.

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The Language of Stoke Athletes and fans experience moments of intense excitement in all sports. Strong feelings of joy, sadness, anger, and fear are central features of athletic performance. But some scholars suggest that lifestyle sport enthusiasts experience a unique form of emotional intensity, often in the absence of a competitive context. Surfers, skateboarders, and rock climbers have reported feeling a “buzz,” “adrenaline rush,” or “stoke” during moments of peak performance (Wheaton 2013). Though scholars have not arrived at a common definition, some describe stoke as a powerful awareness of being in the moment during a transcendent performance (Wheaton 2019), “a fully embodied feeling of satisfaction, joy, and pride” (Evers 2006, 230), and “a tingly feeling throughout the body” (Smith 2020). To follow the common string in these definitions, stoke is an extraordinary sensory experience that occurs during play. In this analysis, I pursued the idea that disc golfers talk about stoke in ways that foster group cohesion and positive emotion and motivate participation. For this reason, I define stoke as words, phrases, and images that portray an athletic experience as transcendent or greater than the ordinary experience of playing. Rather than a standalone category, stoke, understood as a language of enthusiasm and positive affect, permeated interactions of all types in Facebook groups. Stoke often appeared in posts containing descriptions, photos, and video clips of an individual throwing an extraordinary shot or entire round. Much of it consisted of common terms or slang derived primarily from traditional golf: for example, “awesome,” “great shot,” “nice drive,” “on the dance floor.” While disc golfers did occasionally use the term “stoked” to describe a concurrent experience, it was more often used in reference to an anticipated one. For instance, a meet-up post contained the RSVP comment: “See ya there. I’m stoked.” Another post read “[name of tournament] this weekend! #stoked.” Words and phrases that were unique to disc golfers (or at least popular) described the power and accuracy of single throws or a prolonged streak of excellent play. Group members occasionally shared video clips of professionals throwing exceedingly long, high, or powerful drives. Such posts included words like “crush,” “rip,” “smash,” “mash,” and “bomb.” Accurate throws that traveled through a narrow gap between trees or other obstacles were “pure,” “skinny,” “butter,” and “tasty.” Upshots and drives that came to rest near a basket were “parked.” Comments were often directed at “the line” or flight path of a throw (drives, upshots, and

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putts), suggesting that stoke is commonly experienced while the disc flies. One member referred to a local player’s streak of incredible shots as “Beast Mode” (a phrase that comes from the nickname of top pro player Paul McBeth, aka “McBeast”). Though popular in other sports, references to being “in the zone,” “dialed,” and “juiced” were detected in some posts about extended peak performances. Stoke also appeared in posts featuring photos of tee pads, fairways, and baskets on disc golf courses, sans players. These images allowed group members to express their positive attitudes toward the quality of a photo, with comments such as “nice pic,” “love this,” “so money,” and “epic photo,” as well as toward a specific course or the experience of playing it, with phrases like “I love that course,” “such a fun course,” “grip it and rip it.” Stoke appeared in people’s comments on posts featuring the accomplishments of workers and organizers. For example, one post included a photo of a newly trimmed fairway with the comment: “Thanks [name]! Looks great! Can’t wait to throw it.” The high volume of photos of home courses, and the enthusiastic interactions surrounding them, suggested that stoke was also infused in people’s sense of place. Echoing Smith’s (2020) research on the social media use of BMX riders, the imagery and language of stoke elevated disc golfers’ interest in playing the sport, but also energized the broader aims of the movement, as it encouraged identity formation and participation in disc golf course development and event organizing.

Disruption Complaints Conflicts involve at least two people who oppose each other in words and deeds in social interaction. While all complaints imply a conflict, the concept of complaint used here differs from other types of conflict in the sense that only one side is present. The typical complaint was filed against an unidentified individual or group that was perceived as a threat or hindrance to a local disc golf community. For example, one group reacted to a new parking fee in a public park where the club’s home course was located. A member complained about the fee, but the city officials who instated the fee were not identified and were likely unaware of the complaint. Several other members voiced supporting views in the comments section or liked the post. No one offered an opposing view. There was

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little investigation into the reasons for the new fee or how it could benefit the park or course. No one suggested a collective effort to protest the fee. Members often complained about course-related matters, such as vandalism, graffiti, littering, and overflowing trash cans on disc golf courses, as well as unauthorized course modifications (for instance, when someone breaks or cuts down a tree, branch, or bush). There were a few unusual complaints, such as a disc golfer being attacked by an unleashed dog, a disc golf bag being stolen from a car and a hit-and-run accident in a parking lot. At times, complaints were aimed at natural forces—inclement weather and difficult conditions on courses due to rain or other environmental conditions—but most cases involved an unknown human perpetrator, perceived to be outside the group, who did something that threatened a collective good. Complaints may strengthen the norms of groups through a process that flags unacceptable behavior and condemns it with multiple affirming interactions (“piling on”). For example, a member posted three images of benches and baskets that had been tagged with graffiti and referred to the unidentified perpetrator as a “punk.” Twenty-one other members reacted to the post and eleven wrote supportive comments. The first comment was moderate in tone and reflective: “Hopefully this guy realizes the negative impact this sort of thing has on our sport.” The tone of the ensuing comments became increasingly heated, with uses of negative labels (“Dbag,” “creampuff”), angry face emojis, and escalated to the phrase, “Stop tearing shit up,” coupled with a gif featuring a man seemingly punching the camera. Although the blame seemed to be aimed at disc golfers outside the group, the emotional interjections seemed to reinforce the norms against graffiti within it. Intragroup Conflict Some posts that began as complaints developed into debates, with a mix of conflicting perspectives, snippy comments, insulting memes, and competing like/emoji counts among opposing group members. Intragroup conflicts were more common in large groups than in small ones. In the largest groups, almost any kind of complaint might receive a contrary response or escalate into a debate involving several members. Even objections to some forms of course vandalism received rejoinders at times. Intragroup conflicts typically involved the norms of play, course problems and preferences, and the organization of competitions. Players

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accompanied by a dog; excessive talking; slow play; lack of etiquette; sandbagging; music played through a speaker; failure to help find a lost disc; consumption of tobacco, alcohol, and cannabis; profanity; and foul mood were all parts of an ongoing discussion of the acceptable norms of participation. Debates about courses included topics such as navigation difficulties, course design problems, course maintenance issues, equipment weaknesses, and safety concerns. Conflictual discussions about organizational matters were also wide-ranging, with debates about entry fees, tournament layouts, scheduling issues, and the payout system used to reward winners. At times, the intensity of these discussions escalated, especially when drama occurred, but the tone usually remained mild and signs of lasting intragroup conflict were rare when these topics emerged. The processes of interaction, especially in small-to-mid-size groups, moved the conversation away from direct confrontation. In some cases, low-level grievances turned into platforms for playfulness, as disagreements transformed into a series of jokes and teasing. It was sometimes difficult to interpret the difference between conflict and camaraderie, given the unknown relationships between members. In other cases, a sharp reply was snubbed or disregarded by all members of the group and the conversation suddenly stopped. The personal, localized nature of conflicts also moderated social relations. Debates rarely hinged on partisan issues or topics that affected the broader community. To use Mills’s (2000) classic distinction between personal troubles and public issues, most discussions emphasized the problems of individuals or local groups, and rarely connected them to social structure or history. Given that tensions were routinely framed as local and personal, the high-stakes questions that might set off more intense conflicts remained unasked. Examining the intragroup conflicts in disc golf from 2007 to July 2020, we found only one topic that clearly connected personal troubles to public issues. In early 2020, as countries around the world reacted to the COVID-19 pandemic, many disc golf tournaments were canceled, and some disc golf courses were shut down. The PDGA suspended several major events and eventually halted the sanctioning of all events. The policies governing closures of disc golf courses varied from region to region, and many disc golfers headed to social media to vent their frustrations. Unlike a pet peeve involving a player’s dislike of a specific course design element, numerous players voiced their grievances about the new

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restrictions or about people who ignored the restrictions, thereby entering 2020’s notable politicized discussion of public health recommendations. As an example, one member posted a local news article that criticized disc golfers for failing to obey the state’s stay-at-home order and practice social distancing. The original post argued that the article was unfair, that it “painted [disc golf] in a bad light,” and that disc golfers were social distancing appropriately. The first comment said, “Should of seen the river course today. There were groups of 5-6s on every other pad.” These contrasting views attracted ten more members who debated how the coronavirus spreads, the efficacy of state policies, individual rights and responsibilities, the death rate from coronavirus versus other health risks, and the level of transmission risk involved with playing disc golf versus other sports and activities. “Its ridiculous people aren’t taking this seriously at all,” one person wrote. “Look up how many people die of Heart Disease every day,” someone retorted. “Where’s the freak out shutdown for that?” Later in the discussion, the person who made the original post wrote, “sorry, I’m a libertarian. I disagree with your opinion. I have the right to go play DG in the woods if I want.” In this way, an individual grievance started a debate that bridged the gap between personal troubles within a local disc golf community and the public issues gripping the nation at that time. While debates like this one were common in 2020, more remarkable was the general avoidance of polarizing political topics. References to political matters were rare. Hotly discussed issues involving racism, sexism, and environmental issues were almost non-existent during the period under study (2007 to July 2020). Some groups openly discouraged the discussion of controversial racial topics and other issues deemed political. It is possible, for this reason, that hot-button issues occasionally emerged in posts but were quickly taken down by moderators and therefore went undetected by our study. However, as I will discuss later in Chap. 11, only two months after the completion of our data collection and analysis, the muted discussion of difficult topics was interrupted when a high-profile disc golfer took a stand in support of the Black Lives Matter movement, and a group of professional women disc golfers launched a campaign to fight sexism, objectification, and sexual harassment in the sport. For much of the summer and fall of 2020, the discussion of controversial topics became more common than ever before.

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Intergroup Conflict Conflicts between disc golf clubs or between a club and another group in a local community were rare. Most groups did not exhibit a single example. When they did arise, they usually involved public land use disputes (Woods 2018). In one group, for instance, there was an ongoing discussion about the development of a championship-level disc golf course on public land. After working to gain permission to use the land and a large grant to build the course, the disc golf community was confronted by a small but vocal group of protesters who convinced local officials that disc golf presents significant risks to human safety, trees, and wildlife. Both sides of the dispute started online petitions. In three additional cases, the disputes involved the closing of a disc golf course to provide space for an alternative public or commercial project, or because of perceived problems on the disc golf course, such as environmental degradation, nuisance behaviors, alcohol consumption, and drug use. Yet, collective political actions in response to these intergroup conflicts tended to be mild and disorganized. In one group, in fact, the closing of a local course generated an intragroup conflict, as some members blamed other members for not working hard enough to protect the course.

Conclusion Prior to the arrival of the internet and the popularization of social media, organizing a disc golf tournament involved time-consuming chores such as making and distributing paper flyers, reaching out to people with telephone calls, arranging for the event to be featured in a newsletter, and spreading the word in person on the disc golf course. In many respects, social media simply made it easier and more affordable for disc golf clubs to communicate with their members. In almost all disc golf Facebook groups in the sample, basic information seeking and sharing were primary functions. Disc golfers scheduled meet-ups, posted tournament registration details, gave driving directions to courses, exchanged tips and instructions for improving performance and carried out commerce. In fact, most groups identified pragmatic aims like these in their About sections. For a grassroots sports movement that receives little support from institutional players, the communication of organizational details via Facebook groups was self-evidently efficient and likely bolstered the movement’s growth and development.

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Facebook groups were also vehicles for a more complex set of social interactions and processes. Coming to understand one’s self in relation to others was established through status claims in the form of self-promotion and other promotion. People affirmed and protected the identity of their local clubs and the sport in general by highlighting positive achievements, boosting the sport’s image, defending it from perceived threats, and showing favoritism when comparing it to other sports. Disc golfers spent a surprising amount of time and energy entertaining each other by telling stories, posting funny or captivating photos and memes, exchanging jokes, and indulging in self-deprecating humor. Their enthusiasm for the sport could be seen in a unique language, akin to stoke, that reflected people’s positive emotions, extraordinary experiences, and common bond. Together, these integrative elements of social media use—information, status, identity, fun, and stoke—expanded to the disc golf movement across space and time, bringing players together year-around, day and night, in virtual communities. In addition to the themes discovered in this analysis, the sheer volume of interactions was also worth noting. For many disc golfers, Facebook was a key source of media consumption. From the perspective of traditional and established online disc golf media, social media was a distraction if not a formidable competitor in the sports media market. Social networking services have upended traditional journalism’s near monopoly on telling the story of several sports and disc golf is no exception (Lowes and Robillard 2018). Each day, in large Facebook groups, several people circulated posts containing hyper-local news, information, and entertainment free of charge. Given the great number of specialized media, talented prosumers and active social media members, it has been difficult for any single media upstart to become financially sustainable. For instance, the disc golf news provider Ultiworld Disc Golf was launched in 2016. Four years later, despite having over one million page views in 2019 and a thriving podcast, this leader in disc golf media was still “losing money,” according to its publisher (Eisenhood and Thomas 2020a). Yet, social media are not only famous for capturing our attention, sparking friendships, and uniting groups, but also for serving as a platform for grievances, intrapersonal tensions, and group conflict. Disc golf groups on Facebook were not immune to these challenges. People vented their complaints to the group on a range of issues pertaining to disc golf courses, tournaments, public parks, local polices, and circumstances of types too numerous to list. In some cases, these grievances received rejoinders from

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other members and occasionally generated intragroup conflicts. But, aside from debates over the dangers of COVID-19, grievances tended to be one-sided, intense in-fighting was rare, and conflicts between disc golf groups (or between disc golf groups and other local groups) were even less common. Thinking back on the thousands of posts I read for this analysis, it was probably the general absence of politics and the shunning of controversial topics that most surprised me. Avoiding tough conversations may have sheltered many groups from conflict, but it probably left them ill-prepared when the discussion of difficult issues was inescapable. Overall, disc golfers’ norms and interactions on social media seemed to promote group cohesion and moderate conflict. However, to further evaluate claims about the effects of social media on the disc golf movement, I will need to establish more reliable measures of social media use and real-­ world indicators of disc golf activity. Here lies the goal of the next chapter.

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CHAPTER 6

Social Media and the Growth of Disc Golf

The modern age of disc golf officially came to life in 1975 when the first course was installed in Pasadena, California by Ed Headrick (Oldakowski and McEwen 2013). For the next three decades, seventy-nine new courses were constructed each year on average. By 2007, there were 2515 entries in the PDGA course directory. This level of growth seemed impressive to many disc golfers. Optimistic articles appeared in an earlier version of PDGA’s magazine, Flying Disc, about the rapid development of courses across the country. Back in 2007, fans were witnessing the greatest player of all time Ken Climo at the top of his game. The PDGA was sanctioning an increasing number of new disc molds for competitive play, and equipment was becoming more available in local stores than ever before. Passion for the sport was also on the rise in other countries such as Finland, Sweden, and Japan. Yet, what transpired over the next twelve years likely exceeded the expectations of even the most hopeful disc golf enthusiasts of 2007. Between 2008 and 2019, the PDGA directory added 5948 courses and now included a total of 8463 courses. On average, the number of new courses per year jumped from 79 between 1975 and 2007 to 496 between 2008 and 2019, a six-fold increase in the rate of growth. Disc golf observers and local journalists writing about this phenomenon in the 2010s often framed the growth as something spontaneous, unexpected, or uncoordinated. Explanations commonly referred to the attractive psychological experiences associated with playing the sport and other individual-level © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Woods, Emerging Sports as Social Movements, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-76457-9_6

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factors, such as affordability, access, and personal health. Conventional wisdom held that disc golf was becoming more popular because it was so much fun to play. The thesis of this book, in contrast, asserts that the success of the disc golf movement depends not on its specific qualities—lots of sports are fun and affordable—but rather on the availability of necessary resources for formal organization and sustained collective action. The moments in history when these resources become available do not happen by accident. One such resource was social media. Coinciding with the rapid rise of the disc golf movement in the 2010s was the equally dramatic increase in the activity of disc golf groups on Facebook. After the earliest groups emerged in 2007, the number of active groups rose uniformly for roughly a decade until groups began to consolidate in 2016 and the total number of groups stood at 3471. As I hope this book has already made clear, there is no single factor that explains the growth of disc golf or any other sport. Yet, the extent of activity and the usefulness of this relatively new communication tool suggest that social media played a prominent role. In this brief chapter, drawing on resource mobilization theory, I argue that disc golf social media not only functioned as an efficient channel of communication, but provided additional social and cultural resources that bolstered participation in face-to-face encounters. While experiences in online communities produced both integrative and disruptive social forces, as shown in the previous chapter and other studies, digital interactions have had a net positive effect on the disc golf movement (Stein 2009). Using the fifty United States as units of analysis, I show that social media use is positively correlated with face-to-face disc golf activity. States with more disc golf courses, PDGA members, and events tend to have more Facebook group members than states with fewer courses, PDGA members, and events. At the individual level, I also found that players’ involvement in social media is positively associated with their skill levels.

Disc Golf Social Media as Mobilizing Resource Several scholars have recognized that social networking sites and other information and communication technologies are important resources to social movements (Carty 2015). For instance, Lotan et al. (2011) described how Twitter was used to spread timely information and amplify unrest during the Arab Spring in 2011. Others have revealed social media’s effect on the protests of the Moldovan parliamentary elections in 2009

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(Mungiu-Pippidi and Munteanu 2009), Iran’s election crisis the same year (Burns and Eltham 2009), and the evolution of the Occupy Wall Street movement (Conover et al. 2013; DeLuca et al. 2012). These and similar studies focused on the power of social media to help people express their ideas and organize social movements through innovative communication technologies (Lynch 2011; Maurushat et al. 2014). Through the lens of resource mobilization theory (RMT), social media may be regarded as a “social-organizational resource” (Edwards and McCarthy 2004, 127)—one of several resources that help social movements achieve their goals (Tilly 1978; McCarthy and Zald 1977). Just as Twitter may help coordinate a movement’s protest actions, Facebook may be used to organize a workday on a disc golf course. As discussed in the previous chapter, basic information seeking and sharing was one of the most common uses of disc golf groups on Facebook. In many cases, it served as a club’s primary formal organizational structure. Facebook groups were especially attractive to disc golf clubs because they connected people who were dispersed throughout a relatively wide geographical region. But Facebook groups represented more than a cost-effective way to communicate. To briefly reiterate the findings from the previous chapter, members of these groups used the platform to establish group identity, seek and share status, express their enthusiasm for the sport, and have fun. In short, Facebook served as a mechanism of group cohesion. Both as an efficient form of communication and as a source of solidarity, social media likely help disc golf groups recruit new members and encourage greater participation in the movement. New players or transplants from other clubs can easily find local clubs on Facebook, receive notifications about league and tournament dates and times, learn about the local courses, as well as ask questions and even get to know club members, all before arriving at a course or meeting a single person face-to-face. If it is true that social media have predominantly integrative effects on disc golf communities, there should be a positive relationship between social media use and real-world indicators of disc golf activity. As discussed below, I will use both state-level and individual-level measures of social media use and disc golf participation to test this assumption.

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Method Facebook may be one of the only feasible tools for collecting a reasonably large, representative sample of disc golfers (Woods 2019). In recent years, its users have become more representative of the population. Roughly 72 percent of adults on the internet have a Facebook account (Duggan 2015). Among Facebook users, three out of four access their accounts daily (Smith and Anderson 2018). Women (83 percent) are only slightly more likely to use Facebook than men (75 percent). While younger Americans are more active than older people, the rate of use is similar among a large age cohort (ages eighteen to forty-nine), and variance across income and education levels is small (Greenwood et  al. 2016). Differences in use across racial-ethnic background and region are also minor (Krogstad 2015). Facebook includes users that are more representative of the US population than any other social media platform (Krogstad 2015). As discussed in the previous chapter, I constructed a sampling frame of disc golf groups by searching Facebook with the terms “disc golf” and “frolf” and randomly selected 123 groups. Next, 30 individual profiles from each of the 123 groups were selected using a random procedure. This kind of multi-stage cluster sampling approach is justified when a complete sampling frame is unavailable (Babbie 1999). If the group comprised fewer than thirty members, all members of the group were selected. This resulted in a total sample of 2551 individual Facebook profiles. Redundant profiles were excluded. The sampling procedure was completed in 2017. State-Level Variables For each Facebook profile, a team of three researchers attempted to determine the state of residence of the profile holder. Based on 2010 Census data, a per capita measure of disc golf Facebook members by state was computed (i.e., Facebook group members per 100,000 state residents). Four measures were computed to examine the variance in real-world disc golf activity across the fifty United States. First, a state-level, per capita measure of PDGA membership was computed based on PDGA statistics from 2016 (PDGA 2017). Second, the PDGA sanctioned 18,899 US tournaments and leagues between 1980 and 2016; these events were also categorized by state and a per capita measure was created. Third, roughly half of all disc golf

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events are not sanctioned by the PDGA (Woods 2017); a measure of nonPDGA events was developed from data provided by two online tournament registration platforms. Over a two-year period (2015–2016), Disc Golf Scene and Disc Golf United registered 3615 non-PDGA tournaments. A state-level, per capita indicator of non-PDGA events was created based on these data. The number of disc golf courses in the US, which stood at 5467 in 2016, was the fourth measure of disc golf activity. Again, a statelevel, per capita indicator was computed based on PDGA data (PDGA 2017). If social media activity is related to real-world behaviors at the state level, there should be correlations between the number of Facebook members and the number of courses, PDGA members, and events. Individual-Level Variables As a preliminary attempt to gauge the individual’s level of online, disc-­ golf-­related activity, we coded seven behavioral markers in each profile: disc-golf-related profile picture (Y/N), disc-golf-related cover picture (Y/N), at least one of the first ten timeline entries is disc-golf related (Y/N), at least one of the first ten page likes is disc-golf related (Y/N), member of two or more disc-golf-related groups (Y/N), and proportion of total groups that are disc-golf related. These indicators were combined in an index. The “Facebook Activity Index” is an exploratory measure. While it may be reasonable to weight some indicators differently in a future study, this preliminary one used an equal-weights approach. To measure the skill level of disc golfers, we looked up each player’s PDGA rating, which is publicly available on the PDGA’s website. PDGA ratings are a reasonably good measure of performance in PDGA-sanctioned leagues and tournaments. If players’ online activities are related to their skill levels, there should be a correlation between scores on the Facebook Activity Index and PDGA ratings.

Results Social Media Activity and Group Size The subjects’ place of residence differed across the four US Census regions: 684 were from the South (0.56 per 100,000 residents), 643 from the Midwest (0.95 per 100,000 residents), 460 from the West (0.60 per 100,000 residents), and 256 from the Northeast (0.46 per 100,000

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Table 6.1  Correlations between Facebook members and disc golf activity by state Disc golf activity

Social media members

PDGA members

PDGA events

Non-PDGA events

Courses

0.404**

0.195

0.244

0.322*

Note: *p≤0.05; **p≤0.01

residents).1 Wisconsin and Oregon had the most disc golfers on Facebook, and Hawaii and Mississippi had the least. Five-hundred and eight subjects did not include their state of residence. As shown in Table 6.1, states with a high number of Facebook members tended to have higher rates of disc golf participation than state with fewer Facebook members. Social Media Activity and Skill Level Twelve percent of the Facebook profiles displayed a disc-golf-related profile picture; 11 percent displayed a disc-golf-related cover picture; 29 percent had at least one disc-golf-related page like among their ten most recent likes; 26 percent had at least one disc-related post among their ten most recent timeline posts; 1357 disc golfers belonged to two or more disc golf groups on Facebook. Mean and median scores on the Facebook index were 1.97 and 1.30, respectively, with a standard deviation of 1.9. The index had good internal consistency, with a Cronbach alpha of 0.81. PDGA player ratings were available for 364 subjects. Based on this subsample, there was a moderate positive correlation between the Facebook index and player ratings (r=0.25, p