A year in review: how I did in my badgery goals.

It’s the time of the year where one need look back on their achievements, failures, and over-expenditure vis a vis equipment for goofy sports. And me, dear reader, well, I’m no different.

Though, In looking back through my dusty tomes, it seems like I failed to share any of my goals for 2025, which makes this kinda a weird post. I could say anything. I could say I had a goal to overspend on axes and hide in hotel rooms after tourneys to avoid socializing—and that I nailed it. But, because I love you, I’ll try to stay honest. Or maybe, to put it a bit less sugary, this is a year in review for 2025: what I did well, what I did poorly, and where I hope to go from here.

I went all the places budget would allow.

I have a real home-body vibe. Friends, I don’t like leaving the burrow. But 2025 saw me go to Pittsburgh, Philly, Baltimore, Toronto. Wait.

Wait.

Was that it? I felt like there was a larger list, there. Maybe not.

At any rate, I did go to more axe houses than I did in 2024, and that feels like a win. Traveling around really gives an axe thrower the chance to experience a wider breadth of what the community is, get energized, and make new friends you won’t see nearly as much as you’d hope. Traveling outside of your own axe house also helps boost the coffers of axe venues in general, which feels nice when I get a chance to do it. If I had to put a number on it, I’d say it’d be nice to visit at least 3 new axe houses in 2026, but who knows. Who knows.

I spent way too much on axes. But who didn’t?

It’s an old trope, but here we are.

When I get down to thinking about it—laying it all out, I mean, I think I spent around $600 bucks on axes over the course of 2025. Now. NOW: it’s important to tell myself/tell you that my current stable is almost exactly what I want. I’ve honestly never felt more in tune with my axes than I do right now.

My current rig consists of:

1. Bull Axe: Mini Reaper (Warriors Axe Throwing) on a Red Beaver Custom Axes handle

   • I’ve never loved a bull axe as much as this little buddy. It’s just…it’s just perfect.

2. Clutch Axe: Custom forged Hoops head on a Hoops handle.

   • Full coverage, slips through boards like an assassin on holiday, makes me feel good about myself.

3. Big Axe: Hults Bruk Agdor (I think?) on a Northern Axe Works handle

   • Easily the most beautiful axe I have, but it’s a little heavy for me.

     • To be fair, I’m also terrible at big axe, so it might not be the axe’s fault.

       • Of course it’s not the axe’s fault. But it might not be the best fit for me. But it’s so pretty, you guys.

Now, out of that listing, only one of them came from a purchase this year (the Mini Reaper). The Hoops clutch axe was given to me by OtterGuy after I gave him a Cedar Pattern (the very best, unexpected trade I’ve ever made in my life)—but I did purchase a handful of axes during the year that never really made it into the rotation for a long time (of course), and that’s where the other half of that $600 came from.

Maybe that’s not a lot to some of you, but for a sport that, to date, I haven’t made a single cent off of in return, It’s quite a spend for someone who, you know, writes words to make their bread.

Oh god, I just thought about how much I’ve spent on travel in axe throwing and I refuse to think about it any more than that.

My skill in axe throwing dipped hard, but is starting to come back.

This year was one of experimentation. I started the year, more or less, attempting to perfect the Dr. K method of throwing (resting the axe on one’s shoulder as a starting point for the throw). And while that method was much better than my home-grown method, I improved and then immediately leveled out.

And then it dipped. Hard. I think my average dropped by at least 5 points, and I was losing almost every match in league there, for a while.

Super cut to late October (after Choptober), and after a conversation with PK about hand position and movement and who knows what else, I changed my throw to a more delicate, more in-front sort of position—and it feels pretty damned good, truth be told. I’m winning matches again, can feel where my axe is gonna go, and seemingly improved my accuracy. So I’m going to hang on to what I’m doing now for the foreseeable future, and maybe it’ll get me a little further along in upcoming leagues/tourneys. We’ll fogging see soon, as the Urban Axes Baltimore NYD marathon is coming up.

I had my first, big “maybe I should quit this” scare in axe throwing/running the blog.

I look at this gift every day.

I don’t want to re-hash all of it again, but through a series of misunderstandings, missteps and mistakes, I lost kinship with a few people and didn’t carry myself the way I try to in the sport and on this blog. For a few months this year, I was very much considering just leaving the entire business and picking up some other, tiny sport to spend my time. Maybe I’d go into curling, which as far as niche sports go still has thousands more participants than axe throwing, I realize.

And, honestly, I’m okay with learning that lesson the way I did. It’s easy to sit behind a keyboard and write goofy little posts and be liked for the entertainment I provide, and having a really solid reminder that the kind of popularity I receive is hella conditional, and that I’m not necessarily above the human condition.

Thankfully, the few people willing to talk to me directly helped even my keel, as it were, and gave me the space to think these through beyond the initial take-my-ball-and-go-home, childish reaction. I still feel miserable about all of it, but I don’t feel like my time is up, and I'm closer to some very lovely, very caring people. So you know, you win some, you lose some.

At any rate, the whole experience took a bit of the sparkle out of the sport, and looking at the community and my part in it with clearer eyes is, fundamentally, a very good thing.

I have yet to get close to even seeing a podium.

Now, friends, you know I’m not, you know, good at this whole axe throwing thing. And while I never really go to a tourney with the expectation of winning, it would have been a real treat to finish one with a record that was a little better than 1 win, two losses.

But 2025, much like the year before that (and the year before that), wasn’t one of achievement. This was in part to my own experimentation with my throw, and because I’ve never been good at any sport, and maybe also maybe because my priorities were more focused on content-gathering for this here site.

Maybe 2026 will be a year where I really aim for a big goal like this. No, not finishing on a podium, but perhaps simply finishing somewhere in the middle of the pack. Wouldn’t that be dreamy?

The Axe Badger did pretty well.

Overall, the blog continues to delight people, and that’s very important to me. I’ve managed to interview people I really admire, promote the work of people who are doing much more important stuff than I am, and make friends along the way. More people visited/read the blog than last year by quite a measure, and while I still haven’t figured out how to cover costs, the blog is beginning to feel more and more like a part of axe throwing in general, and that’s a very good feeling.

I find I’m spending more time trying to make posts look pretty, have unique content, that sort of thing, and I enjoy spending the time doing that work. I don’t know if I have a 2026 goal for the blog that I can put into words quite yet, but I know there is a whole world of possibility out there, and I’m open to all of it.

So there you go. Achievements/big lessons from 2025 and a few goals for 2026 in the mix, too.

I hope, sincerely, that your 2025 axe throwing year was one full of happiness and personal-achievement-reaching. And I hope your 2026 comes with a lot of fun, a lot of connection, and maybe a hello if you see me out there.