OPINION: The Dum Dums Frisbee Shot
I’ll never forget the Dum Dums trash can shot. My law school buddies and I developed a frisbee golf course in Oxford, Mississippi. We set up a bonus hole after hole 18 with a prize of a bag of Dum Dums suckers for the first person to land a Wham-O frisbee in the can. Yours truly won the award along with a smelly garbage-covered flying disc.
When I settled in Hattiesburg, I started throwing a frisbee at trees designated as holes and ran across a fellow named Dale McVeay, who suggested I check out disc golf. He had a little backpack and small, hard plastic discs which he threw into a chained metal basket on the USM campus. Little did I know that he was at the forefront of a fledgling big enterprise of recreation, a young man at the time who would later be called the guru of disc golf in the Pine Belt. I took his advice and bought a few discs, playing on the 9-hole course at USM. I then moved to Paul B. Johnson State Park and started learning to make hard throws on the new 18-hole course designed by the one and only Dale McVeay. Often, I would see McVeay, alone, playing a round and telling anyone he knew (or did not know) that they should learn to play disc golf. He was the ultimate ambassador for the sport.
Time passed, and I had children, occasionally pushing my first born in a stroller while I flung the disc. Then, youth baseball consumed all my time, and I retired my discs for about 15 years. In that period, McVeay became a pro and with the help of others, they made disc golf a big thing in Hattiesburg. My boys meanwhile grew up, went to college, ditched the baseball bats, and started playing disc golf. They invited dad to play, and I was amazed at what I saw. Paul B. Johnson State Park had concrete tee pads and two courses. Tatum Park had a fabulous and tricky 18-hole course. Black Creek Water Park had a beautiful, winding course on the lake. And the people playing? Dozens of players were on the courses with bags full of discs, fancy disc carts and all kinds of accessories. They had terminology for the throws like hyzer, anny, and jump putt. I saw players making shots that were amazing to near impossible and learned that there is an ever-growing pro circuit around the United States. Just next weekend, my sons are playing in a sponsored tourney in Hattiesburg, and they are practicing and regularly watching You Tube videos of pro players.
As for McVeay, I understand his legacy is entrenched in south Mississippi, and he has moved to the Florida panhandle, where he has opened a disc golf shop called “Breeze Disc Sports,” with the slogan of “We’ll Make You Hurl.” Play It Again Sports in west Hattiesburg has a nice selection of discs and other gear, and a beginner can pay 20 dollars to get a couple discs and play for free. The game is so popular now that Temple Baptist Church in west Hattiesburg built a 9-hole course with open lanes that are ideal for beginners and players who want to practice long drives.
The sport of disc golf has come a long way from the days of throwing frisbees in a trash can. But one thing has not changed. If you get an ace on hole one at Tatum while playing with me, you get a bag of assorted flavored Dum Dums.
Clark Hicks is a lawyer who lives in Hattiesburg. His email is [email protected].