Day 2:
The air was hot and sticky when we arrived to the shooting range in Marengo, Ohio. There was a breeze, but it wasn’t enough to offset that terrible heat. The shooting range offered no shade, except for the occasional pop-up tent that everyone rushed to get under. Good thing I’d planned ahead and carried an entire backpack filled with ice and water.
While I sat broiling on a log bench in the heat, Jeremy was busy practicing his movements. In his belt, he carried a factory 9mm pistol, and many, many magazines with custom blue-purple ends. He ran through his route several times until the range officer (RO) called everyone to attention.
All the shooters circled around him as he gave instructions. I could barely hear what he was shouting, but I could tell that the RO was giving everyone a rundown for that particular range.
The competition was split up between 20 or so different ranges. Each range was different, with different routes and rules for each shooter to follow. For simplicity's sake, let’s just say that the shooters were practicing speed-clearing a house, and shooting various cardboard and steel targets as they moved through. They were scored based on how close to the center of the cardboard targets they got (alpha for a center hit, charlie for a middle hit, delta for an edge hit, or mike for a miss), and how many steel targets they managed to knock down. After each competitor shot, the other shooters and RO would help with scoring and covering the holes in the cardboard target with tape.
Because there were roughly 300 competitors at the range at a time, the competitors were split into squads of 15-20 shooters. Each shooter was assigned a number to organize them in a line. Each time a shooter shot, their position would change for the next range. For instance, when Jeremy would shoot first at the first range, he’d be the second to shoot at the next range, then the third after that, and so on.
Overall, the competition was extremely well organized. Albeit still very hot.
When it was Jeremy’s turn to shoot, he tossed me his phone.
“Here! Stand just behind the RO and film me.” he nodded.
“I’ll try my best!” I replied, whipping out my own phone to film with, too.
Jeremy stepped into a little orange rectangle on the ground, then the RO stood just behind him with a stopwatch that beeped when the time started.
As soon as the beeper went off, Jeremy took off with me and the RO just behind him. He shot at the targets as he ran, almost never stopping until all the targets were shot. As soon as Jeremy’s pistol was back in its holster, the RO stopped the timer, and Jeremy led me out of the obstacle. I thought it was the coolest thing ever!
“I shot like shit!” Jeremy hissed.
“I think you did awesome!” I replied, “That was great.”
“Not great for me.” he shook his head as I handed him his phone back.
Jeremy was obviously frustrated by his performance. I may’ve been impressed. But him? He was pissed at himself for getting one too many charlies, and not enough alphas.
“Oh well…” I sighed as I followed him back to the bench as the next shooter began his run, “You made it to nationals. That, in itself, is hella impressive!”
Jeremy glanced back to nod at me, before turning around to finish reloading his mags for the next range.
Since I had plenty of time till Jeremy would shoot again, I rushed back to the car to get some AC going. I wasn’t feeling sick, but I was sweaty and didn’t want to take any chances.
Amazingly, however, I stayed outside and endured the hot, humid, Flo-er I mean- Ohio air for the next four ranges. Each time it was Jeremy’s turn to go, I’d stand close behind him and film, getting better and better at filming each time. Likewise, his shooting improved every time he shot. However, I could tell that Jeremy still was frustrated by his performance, as badass as it was.
