Trap And Skeet Shooters Have A Blast In Annapolis
By THERESA WINSLOW
The Capital of Annapolis
ANNAPOLIS, Md. (AP) -- For Sean Alexander, shooting is the chase of perfection. And it's mighty addictive.
Every time he steps onto the trap field, he's trying for a perfect score, shattering every clay pigeon as it zooms away from him at 30 miles per hour. That's easier said than done, even for someone who's been at it half his life.
"There's no better feeling in the world than stepping off the field and knowing you were perfect," said the 21-year-old Florida native. "You adapted and overcame. You beat the game."
Alexander puts on his game face at least twice a week during the academic year at the Naval Academy. A Midshipman 2nd Class, he's one of the 22 members of the Trap and Skeet Team. They practice at the nearby Naval Station and attend matches in the region. This season, they had many top finishes.
"Everyone out here is a borderline perfectionist, whether they admit it or not," said Alexander, after he hit target after target with his 12-gauge shotgun.
Trap is also offered at the Anne Arundel Fish and Game Conservation Association in Annapolis, and the 50-to-100 aficionados there express the same love for the sport and attention to detail as the mids.
"That first time when I broke the target, it was immediate satisfaction," said Jennifer Martin of Davidsonville, who calls someone addicted to trap "chronic." "Absolutely, it's a rush."
But it's not as easy as experienced shooters make it look.
The shotguns are heavy, have to be held a certain way to minimize recoil, and aiming at the pigeon is a no-no because it'll fly past by the time the trigger is pulled. A shooter has to follow its path, then essentially fire where it's going to be. Plus, the wind is a factor.
"Most people think you can close your eyes and hit anything you want," said fish and game president Steve Love of Annapolis. "But if you don't shoot, you just don't know. It's nothing like people see in the movies."
In trap, there are five stations, or places to shoot from, in a line. Shooters tackle five targets at each station, making 25 a perfect score for a round. "It's one of the most nervous feelings in the world on the 24th bird," said Midshipman 2nd Class Clinton Spencer, 21, also from Florida.
In skeet, there are eight stations arranged in a semicircle, and pigeons are launched at different heights -- high and low -- as well as two at a time, said Bob Radford, the coach of the academy team.
"It's like anything else, if you don't practice and get the feel for the speed of the birds (you won't do well)," said Radford, who has been at the helm for 10 years.
Midshipman 1st Class Jace Fincher, 22, of Texas, serves as captain and has been shooting trap and skeet since middle school. But even he still has things to work on.
"Once you get the movements down, it's a mental game," he said. "If you miss one, you can't worry about it. You have to focus on the ones you do hit."
Fincher said shooting is a lot like golf, and he wasn't the only one to make the comparison. Both are individual sports, require a lot of concentration, and are habit-forming.
"When you do it right, it's a good feeling," Fincher said. "It's a lot of fun."
The Pull Of The Sport
Before he yells "pull," which signals the trap machine to release a clay pigeon, Alexander has a ritual. He kicks his boot, gets his feet set, and rocks back.
"The big mistake beginning shooters make is getting too excited," he said. His routine helps him focus and clear his head.
Jack Stockhausen, an Annapolis resident who is a competitive trap shooter and a member of the fish and game association, had a similar view. "If you're thinking of other things, more often than not, you'll miss," he said.
That doesn't happen too much.
He's hit 100 straight pigeons several times, and every move he makes on the field has a purpose. There's no wasted motion and he has a different stance for every station.
As he practiced recently, it seemed as if his gun was an extension of his body. He hit almost every target dead center, making them explode into a cloud of tiny pieces. It actually doesn't matter where the pigeon is struck --as long as it's hit, it counts.
"You have good weeks and you have bad weeks," Stockhausen said. "You try to make the bad weeks fewer and the good weeks better."
Overall, he finds trap shooting, something he's done since 1968, relaxing. He has a custom shotgun, wears gloves to shoot, and has blinders on the sides of his glasses to minimize distractions.
"One of the things people like about trap is there's an exactness to it," said Dave Cloutier of Davidsonville, a past president of the association and chief range safety officer.
Like any sport, though, it can be costly. Shotguns range from several hundred to tens of thousands of dollars, and the price of lead has gone up, meaning ammunition is more expensive, Cloutier said.
But better equipment usually leads to better performance. Martin, for example, had her gun fit to her frame. "A lot of women may be intimidated by a shotgun and the recoil, but there are ways to reduce that," said Martin, secretary of the fish and game association.
Mona Yurwitz of Crownsville was among the intimidated until three months ago when she finally decided to try trap. She'd done other forms of shooting and her husband has shot trap "forever," she said.
The first time, Yurwitz only struck three of the pigeons. The next, six, and then nine of 25. She reached a personal best of 21 last weekend. "I'm excited, I'm excited," she said. "I can do this."
Another convert was 16-year-old Catherine Della of Annapolis, who came to the club with her father and sister to give trap a whirl. She only struck three of 25 targets, bit it was enough to get her hooked.
"I was kind of scared the first time," she said. "But after that, it was fun. I liked it and I want to do it again."
(Copyright 2012 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)
