Before I shot my first tournament, I didn’t know tournament archery existed. I didn’t know about the ASA, NFAA, Lancaster, State, Sectionals, Vegas—or even most of the small tournaments happening closer to home. My son got involved in a local traveling league, and through him I found the people. Eventually, I had to step up to the line myself.
My first “big” tournament was WAA State Indoor. I say big loosely now, but at the time it felt huge. I was practicing one Tuesday morning when my coach casually asked, “Are you doing State?” Wait. I can compete against the state of Wisconsin? My first question was the same one I hear from people all the time now: “Am I good enough?” His answer stuck with me. “Can you safely send an arrow forward? If so, you’re good enough. And the experience will only make you better.” He was right.
You’re Probably Not Going to Feel Ready
There are a hundred things you’ll worry about before your first tournament. What if I miss? What if I don’t know how to score? What if I do something stupid? What if everyone there is better than me? But there’s something great about your first tournament: you have zero expectations. Shoot your first 30- or 60-arrow round alongside other archers and congratulations—you just shot YOUR personal best.
You definitely don’t need a $4,000 target bow to belong there. Most tournaments have equipment classes, and many use flights or similar groupings that give shooters at different score levels something to compete for. Figure out where your equipment belongs and shoot it.
You also don’t have to shoot 300s to belong there. Don’t ruin the experience by comparing yourself to everyone around you. Comparison is the thief of joy, and that is absolutely true in archery. Shoot your bow. Shoot your score. Try to beat yourself. It really is that simple.
What Is a Tournament Actually Like?
It’s considerably less dramatic than we make it in our heads. You register, get your bale assignment, hang your target and shoot. You score as a group, come back to the line and do it again. If you don’t know something, ask. Most people are happy to help.
You’ll also learn some things nobody tells you beforehand. For instance, it’s good etiquette to stay on the line until the person next to you finishes. You’ll get remarkably good at nocking an arrow in a very small space. And if you’re a lefty shooting next to a right-handed archer, you’ll have never been more self-conscious about your breath in your life.
Then the Arrows Start Counting
There’s one thing you can’t understand until you experience it. “Archers to the line. This is the first arrow for score.” Suddenly your body forgets that you’ve done this thousands of times.
At my first State tournament, I was in fight-or-flight for two hours. Every time the clicker release next to me went off, I flinched. I could hear conversations in the balcony behind me. I was sweating through my hat. I was questioning everything - Do I always stand like this? Is there normally this much pressure on my face? Is this actually how I grip my bow?
Day two was better. And that is exactly why you should do it. When arrows matter, shooting changes. You learn what nerves do to you, and eventually you learn how to shoot through them. Whether your goal is tournament archery or putting an arrow through your target buck, learning how to execute a shot when that shot matters will make you a better archer.
Just Go
Friends tell me they aren't ready. Other archers tell me they aren’t good enough. My answer is always the same. Do you enjoy shooting a bow? Do you enjoy trying to beat yourself? If either one is yes....Then go. You need to safely handle your equipment. Beyond that, you’re probably never going to feel completely ready. Nobody cares if you shoot a 250 with 10 Xs. Seriously. Nobody.
Go shoot. Get nervous. Learn something. Meet some people. Try to beat yourself. And by showing up, support the clubs, leagues and organizations giving us places to do this in the first place. You don’t have to win. You don’t have to place. You don’t have to prove anything to the person standing next to you. Chances are they are just happy you're there, keeping the sport alive.
Just shoot the tournament. You’re good enough.