Ladies and gentlemen, archery isn’t just about arrows—it’s about precision, elegance, and the undeniable truth that we all look a bit ridiculous while doing it. At competitions, it’s like recreating medieval warfare, but with modern distractions and probably better snacks.

Let’s be honest. Archery has its own etiquette—a kind of unspoken code. The problem is, many of the rules sound like they belong in a comedy sketch.

Rule One: Never Shoot Before the Signal

It’s a simple rule. It’s not even silly or difficult to follow. But the moment you step onto the shooting line, you’re gripped by an irrational urge to be first. Your inner voice whispers:
“Sure, the competition hasn’t officially started, but what if I fire first and they just declare me King of Archery?”

Spoiler: They don’t. They stare at you like you’ve stolen their Christmas presents, sold the butter, and should probably be doing something else—perhaps competitive rabbit hopping.

The Stabiliser Mystery

“This stabiliser improves balance,” you explain to a beginner. They nod as if expecting the bow to transform into a bicycle with training wheels. But in reality, the beginner takes one hesitant step, wobbles, and collapses like a folding chair.

And no one warns them that advanced archery gear makes you look like you’re assembling a customised steampunk weather station.

Show up with a longbow? You’re a minimalist warrior poet—graceful, mysterious, perhaps writing haikus in your head. But show up with a fully decked-out compound bow, and you suddenly look like you’re auditioning for The Terminator: Archery Edition.

The Absurdity of the Scoring System

Why do we never talk about how bizarre the scoring sounds? Ten points for the centre, nine points for slightly….ehm… off-centre… and one point for “Well, at least you aimed in the right direction!”

In other sports, it’s either in or out. In archery, you could hit someone’s backpack and still hear:
“Well, it was sort of near the target!”

The Equipment Drama

And then there’s the existential equipment crisis.

“Is the bow tuned correctly? Is the arrow too long? Is the plunger tension optimal?”

After an hour of adjustments, you start questioning your life choices. After two hours, armed with an angle grinder and a wheel loader, you’re one coffee break away from calling NASA to help recalibrate your sight.

The Arrow Retrieval – The Silent March

Then we have the classic pilgrimage to retrieve arrows. It’s not just a walk; it’s a reflective journey.

The victor strides with pride, chest high and triumphant. The one who missed looks like they’re about to compose a tragic poem the moment they get home. All that’s missing is a Gregorian chant and a single black raven circling overhead.

The Sacred Hamburger

But the highlight of every archery meet is the infamous burger stand. Those slightly charred patties that promise sustenance but deliver a lingering storm cloud of regret and heartburn.

It’s a ritual—a chewy reminder that forest competitions always come with a side of acid reflux.

And woe betide the poor soul who dares to ask for a vegetarian option. The looks. The “Are you speaking in riddles?”stares from the person behind the grill.

The unspoken rule is clear: you may miss the target, you may accidentally fire early, but never, ever criticise the burger.

The Final Word

So, next time you step up to the line, remember: archery is about more than just bows and arrows. It’s about tradition, camaraderie, and maintaining your dignity—even when your bow tips over and the stabilisers knock over the refreshments table.

And if you happen to drop parts of your overpriced burger? Just remember that some legends live on forever—and so does the grease stain.

Now, who’s ready for another round?