A most interesting thread, thank you OP.
This was the year I set myself some targets and decided to improve my general shooting performance. So in January I bought myself a new gun and spent a little while setting it up so that LoP and Comb Height were roughly right. Not surprisingly my scores began to creep up. These were not registered competition scores, but the informal "walking around the layout with chums" type of thing. I wondered about doing a FITASC, but was a bit daunted by making a fool of myself (not by a low score - more by failing to get my head round the rules and format) and generally getting in everyone's way.
I was having difficulty actually seeing some of the targets, so decided to do something about that before anything else. Naturally this web site was my first port of call, naively asking about coloured filters that I thought may help, and it wasn't long before Mr Lyons made a few suggestions that I followed, l ended up with contact lenses, which are a revelation in more than one sense. The first time I wore them to shoot clays I was expecting it all to be a bit strange and my score to suffer, but it wasn't like that at all. Day 1 of contact lenses resulted in a new personal best at Pilford, which rather surprised me. Well done Mr Lyons and well done Mr Underwood (my local optician)
Improvement was also apparent in my Tuesday morning ambling, so I decide that I would:
Join the CPSA
Start doing registered ESP at my local ground
Achieve a registered ESP score of 75 or better this year
Achieve an AA classification at Pilford (they do their own system there, which is simple to understand)
So I joined the CPSA. I then entered a registered ESP, and suffered an astonishing and lengthy bout of stage fright. I really was nervous (visualise 64 year old twit actually fumbling cartridges out of the stand - etc etc) and I discovered that a 100 bird shoot can really clobber me. I went home exhausted with a 55 as my first ever score. I wasn't surprised, nor was I ecstatic. But I had really enjoyed the whole experience, and I learned from it. My score was a long way from my target, but this was April. Another 20 seemed a lot.
The following month I was back again, raring to go. No nerves this time, and none of that new-boy hesitancy. The birds presented didn't seem as daunting, and it was during this competition that I realised that adding up your misses as you go is beyond my meagre mental capacity, that after about fifty birds I'm getting tired and a bit "low blood sugar", and that if you've only taken 100 cartridges with you it's not enough. I was genuinely astonished to be informed I had scored 76. But I was conscious that in the latter stages I was shooting quite well.
A Pilford shoot saw me close to an AA classification.
The June shoot taught me a lesson I really shouldn't have needed - don't expect to shoot well if you're not 100%. I wasn't, didn't feel good, and ended up with a 63.
July's layout was kind to me. This was after a good holiday, maybe that helped. I had an 81 which greatly pleased me.
In August I dropped out, feeling rough again. My immune system does seem to be only partially functional!
By the end of September I had managed an AA classification at Pilford, dropped it once, and was back. September's ESP brought me a score of 71. I was still pleased with it.
That's my journey this year, in a potted form, and here are some things I have learned:
1) Eyesight is fundamental. Ordinary opticians don't really know enough about this sport to help properly
2) Gun fit is important. Expert advice is worth having, that of a mate may not be.
3)The stuff that goes on between the ears has a huge effect. Shooting if you're irritated by the plonker who carved you up on the way is less likely to produce a good score. Shooting if you're sweating on blood tests or suchlike is much the same. (A case in point is yesterday's practice and informal "match", where after a coule of dozen shots we started again. There were so many "no birds", empty traps, stands closed and the like that we were well fed up. We all shot dreadfully badly after that.)
4) Flu, snivelling dripping sneezing colds, any malady that means you're nervous about the distance to the "facilities" are all enemies of performance.
5) Practice is, of course, vital. I shoot fifty clays a week with the gang, plus 100 each month doing the ESP, plus 40 a month at Pilford. Maybe a few more on odd days. It's not nearly enough. And it's worth reflecting on the type of practice, too. My mates are not keen on going to some stands at our local ground, the targets are difficult and it's a long slog. Maybe they would be less difficult if we went there more often?
6) As far as I can tell different brands and types of cartridge seem to make no difference.
7) Every bird I have missed is purely down to me. It is not the fault of the gun, the cartridge, or the choke. The only exception to that is last week - I'm pretty sure that I missed at least a couple at the start because my dear wife furnished me with a small water bottle to put in my pocket. Before we started another competitor noticed that I may have spilled something. I checked in my pocket - "splat" - a whole half pint of water was sloshing around in there together with an empty bottle. My vest is not one that is equipped with drain holes, but enough had seeped out and down into the groin of my trousers to make it look like I hadn't been paying sufficient attention in the "facilities".
8) I am now an addict. I can't wait for the next competition. I really do enjoy watching people who are genuinely on top of their game.
