Tweedledum....

Dave McC

Staff In Memoriam
Or maybe he was Tweedledee.
Anyway, for your edification and amusement...

While waiting my turn at PGC yesterday, I struck up a conversation with two younger guys, men in their 30s and just oozing testosterone from every pore. One was shooting an 1100 and was trying out his new Stoeger O/U. About then, the gent this is about showed up.

He was on the tall end of medium height,40-ish, roughly pear shaped, quite pale and spoke in a breathy high voice.Thick glasses,and he could stand to lose some weight.50 lbs for starters. His shotgun was still in an old canvas case, and a plastic bag held one of those Winchester 4 packs. His glasses were thick, and his smile genuine.

Since I had just walked the two younger guys through their first round ever, I wondered if I had another good deed to do. So,I asked Tweedledum is he had ever shot trap before. He replied in a just more than whisper,"I'm no expert, but I know what to do". The two other guys exchanged glances, and we got ready to shoot.

Tweedle uncased an old but well taken care of Winchester 1200, with genuine hardwood stock and forearm and Fixed full choke. He seemed to know what he was doing as he opened it and kept it pointed up.As we stepped up to the line, he seemed relaxed and having a good time, just as it should be.

The two younger hotshots were on 1 and 2,Tweedle on 3, and I finished the squad on 4. I activated the Canterberry, launched the show bird and stepped up to the line.

I don't pay all that much attention to the other people shooting, unless they're friends or I'm coaching them. But I watched Tweedle destroy that first bird right out of the house. No smoke, but very small pieces.If that clay was more than 10 yards from the trap, I'd be surprised. My eyebrow went up, I was not expecting this.

His style was extreme,leaning well forward with a low hold point, a screaming fast swing and a shot with the clay very close. He kept smashing them nicely.I thought he ran them,but he told me after that he missed three. I shot a typical 23, and had almost as much fun watching Tweedle as I did shooting. He had the kind of concentration trap needs, the single minded focus a good mousing cat has watching a hot mousehole. His clays exploded or smoked, not a single chipped, and not one of them very far from the house.

The two hot shots hit maybe 15 each. I gave them a few tips and they got ready to shoot again. So did Tweedle, and I asked him how long he had been shooting trap. "A couple of years,but I've had that 1200 since 1972, been shooting a little skeet and trap with it lately, don't hunt much anymore".

They stepped up to the line, and Tweedle looked like someone expecting to have a very good time.I watched him blast his first bird, it didn't seem to be 5 feet above the house. As he turned his head to grab another hull, I saw him smile....
 
old shooters

:) Dave,
Loved the post. I have not shot any skeet since 1965 while stationed in France. I was addicted to it then but being in the military and there not being any ranges on the bases I was stationed did not pursue the sport.
I now live in an area that although good hunting does not have Skeet ranges.
I guess way down deep I secretly hope to emulate the gent in your post. [someday------maybe ].
 
Thanks,Beagle1. It was fun watching someone do something they loved so much. And that good performance does not depend so much on youth, strength, or good vision as on attitude and dedication.

Now that I'm unretired, weekends are when I can get to the range. Hope to see him again....
 
I hope I happen upon a man of your expertise and generousity(sp?), when I finally hit a real range sometime, Dave. I appreciate your posts, which are usually informative, always a good read.

I've just gotten into "clay bustin'" in the last 6 months or so, and am really enjoying it. Only informally, so far, but a buddy and I are planning on checking out a Sporting Clays club near here, soon. Well, please keep'em comin'!
 
Thnaks for the compliments, NC. If all goes well, I'm hitting PGC again Saturday morn. I'll look for Tweedle.
 
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