With 2020 – sorry, I mean 2021 – being an Olympic year, you’ll probably see – or
probably already have seen – this bizarre form of archery. You know, the one with the
shiny bows, sights, long stabiliser rods and that weird metal thing at the front that moves.
For most people, this probably is not what you imagined archery to be. You probably were
thinking that it should be something that looks like wooden longbows. The current trend
online tends to focus more on stunt shooting or speed shooting. So when you look at these
modern archers shooting over-engineered bows at static targets, you might ask: where’s
the fun? What’s the point of this?
I’ve been fortunate to have had opportunities to learn, practice and teach modern and traditional
archery. During the lockdowns in 2020, I found myself drifting away from my main discipline
in modern target archery and spending more time immersing in traditional archery, specifically
Asiatic thumb draw styles. It made me think about why I like the styles that I do, a question
that gets asked of me every session I teach. What do you like about it? While each person
has their own motivations, and sometimes these are pragmatic – such as this is the only
style that was available to do – I think I’ve come up with a reason why people find
the modern form of archery appealing enough to commit to.
Let me start by stating that this isn’t about history or tradition. Many people will
criticise modern archery as being slow, impractical and ill-suited for war. This is true. Modern
archery is not based on warfare and never was. It was a development of recreational
archery from the 19th century, not the battlefields of medieval Europe. The use of the bow as
a military tool effectively ended with the advent of gunpowder weapons, relegating archery
to a sporting pursuit, to which it remains this day. Modern archers are not training
for a war, past, present or future. It is a sport, not unlike mainstream sports like
tennis or athletics. You normally don’t go around to basketball players or weightlifters
and go “bro, that would never work in war”. We need to view modern archery for it is -a
sport, and the reasons why people take up sport apply here – fitness, enjoyment, even
the social aspect.
There’s also another caveat: archery was never intended to be a spectator sport. Another
common criticism is that it looks boring. There’s no flashy plays, no moving targets,
no urban combat environment simulations. It’s just someone shooting repeatedly at the same
target. While the modern format has tried to adapt more spectator-friendly elements,
such as the one-on-one knockout format with set points and shoot-offs, the regular competitions
involve a crowded shooting line and a lot of arrows flying down range for a few hours.
A large portion of us never get the chance to compete in the match play format – for
those of us who compete at all, which many don’t.
So you might ask again: what’s the appeal?
A similar problem exists with any non-spectator sport. Watching a game of chess is really
not that exhilarating – it’s two players sitting at a table for an hour moving pieces
around. But any chess player will tell you that playing the game is far more intense
than watching it. That’s the same intensity that competing in archery has – something
that is intrinsic, internal, only experienced by the person doing it. What you might perceive
to be someone doing something over and over again – even looking “easy”, as some
outsiders might dare say – is a test of absolute focus, a push that is shared in many
other forms of archery.
The way I see it is that modern archery is a pursuit.
It is the pursuit of the perfect shot. The target isn’t the focus – the archer is.
Where most observers only look at where the arrow hits, we look at execution: the smoothness
of the draw, the timing of each step, the invisible expansion before the release, the
determination in the eyes. We know the feeling of a shot that doesn’t feel right, and we
crave the shot that feels good.
It is the pursuit of precision. It isn’t about power or speed. It is a test of who
can be the most accurate to the dot. Hitting the target isn’t the success criteria. Hitting
a hundred arrows in the centre ring is the expectation, further than what you can align
with the naked eye. There is an immense amount of trust in the process – that the perfect
execution will deliver the perfect result.
It is the pursuit of a personal best. The modern form puts particular emphasis on scoring
and ratings. The scorecard can be our biggest demons, especially when see that one arrow
that lets the whole end down. But each round is a test. We have to forget the previous
arrow and shoot the next one as if it was our first shot. We have to conquer fear and
uncertainty. We have to persevere through hours of shooting. Each round we shoot pushes
us closer to breaking our previous limitations.
There are few sports which are dependent entirely on the individual. There are no teammates
to support us or drag us down. There are no opponents that can influence what we do. Your
only opponent is yourself. It is a physical and a mental test. The best make it look easy,
but anyone who picks up a bow and signs their scorecard will understand the blood, sweat
and tears involved in the journey.
If there’s any link to history, it isn’t the bows we use or the targets we shoot. It
has been written in texts from Europe to the Middle East to China, Korea and Japan that
the pursuit of archery is about self-discovery, discipline and revealing one’s qualities.
While much has changed with the sport, that drive to uncover the best in ourselves continues
to this day.
That is why we do it.