08/09/2026
Imagine it. You own an axe throwing venue about to have a tournament. It's a small family buisness that you built from the ground up.
A month ago a guy with a 30 thousand dollar professional camera rig messaged asked to come and document your event. You can't afford that. Shockingly, he wants nothing but a safe parking spot for the van he lives in, access to a ladder, and a place to sell his merch to mitigate his costs.
He will provide you with images to promote your leagues, business, and your social media account free as a thank you.
Because he is coming additional people sign up to your tournament. Everyone in your league is excited that this guy is going to be there. Competitors talk about their hopes of getting in a lit lane and being photographed while they travel to your tournament.
It's two days before competition and the guy showed up with his van. After driving 1500 miles from the last tournament he gets straight to work unloadeding all of his gear, setting up his lights and puts out his merch table.
This person asked for that ladder, accepted a water you offered him, and gave you praise for taking the risks to provide a space where the sport can thrive and grow. He told you that you are the backbone of the sport and his motivation is to do what he can to help keep your lights on.
He makes a quick video of your venue and posts it so people traveling that have never been to your buisness can see the parking, where they will check in, and the restrooms.
Day before the competition comes around people start showing up. The photographer is taking test shots and interacting with old friends and new. He's respectful and welcoming to everyone including you and your staff.
First day of competition. Everything is moving forward. You're busy making certain that your staff, volunteers, bracket and boards are ready. You welcome the competitiors and out of the corner of your eye you see the guy crouched down with a camera pointed at you.
The day goes forward and you continue to manage the smooth running of your sanctioned tournament. You thought nothing of the photographer aside from seeing him work throughout the day.
Your day ends, but the photographer's day is really just beginning in the parking lot of your venue. From inside that van, the guy posted nearly a hundred images tagging your venue on multiple social media platforms. The time stamps ended at 4 in the morning.
The posts are simple, "stay sharp and throw true" they say. One after another already with engagements. The images are beyond anything you could have imagined. They depict competitors as professional athletes with your venue as a backdrop. Your staff and family are also included in the uploads. It's all marketable work that you can use to engage your area and as he said, help keep the lights on.
Start of day 2 and the guy works through the day. You notice that many of the competitors take a moment to talk with him, hug him, shake his hand. Many of your league members have new profile pictures that were taken the day before.
Day 3 you wake up to even more posts and the time stamps went straight through the night. Finals start and end. It's over. People are leaving thanking you. You see a line of competitors standing below the ladder that some of them are holding while the photographer is already at work taking down his lights. The line of people are waiting to say goodbye to him. He declines multiple offers of help and wishes them safe travel.
The competitors have all left. The photographer finished loading his van. Your business was a thriving space of energy and excitement for days and now it is surreal in its silence.
The guy takes a moment to thank you for allowing him to document your tournament and explains how you can access the clean published images from his Google drive location. Maybe the conversation goes on a little, maybe it doesn't. He leaves.
For weeks he continues to post images from your competition. At the same time he is documenting other tournaments.
Years go by. You follow his social media and then one day it stops. For a lot of people including yourself it's not a mystery why this person made the desiscion to no longer document the sport. It's all very public in posts and podcasts.
Another year passes. The sport has changed. League members moved on to other interests. Expenses are on your mind most days and you've made the difficult decision to close your venue.
You work to move forward and try not to dwell on how things could have been different. Not an easy task, but it is a process of grace you must give to yourself. You took all the risks to facilitate a sport and provide a space for competirors to build life long friendships, to grow as athletes and people. It was so much more than axe throwing.
In reflection you recall that guy in his van showing up at your tournament and thanking you for taking those risks and providing a space. He said you were the backbone of the sport.
He said a lot of things you never heard before or since about the contribution you made.
Strange story right?
One of my shirts in the wild sent to me from an Australian that lives in Japan. He doesn't even throw axes.
Stay sharp and throw true my friends.
