I check my PDGA rating probably once a week. Sometimes more. I’m not proud of this. It’s not a healthy habit. Brendan has caught me doing it on my phone and made fun of me about it multiple times. “Your number go up?” he’ll ask, which is annoyingly accurate as a summary of what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.
The thing is, I tell people not to worry about ratings. Beginners especially \u2014 I tell them to ignore the number, focus on improvement, don’t let a three-digit score define your relationship with the sport. And I genuinely believe that advice is correct. I just don’t follow it myself. I’m a hypocrite about this specific thing and I’ve made peace with that.
Anyway. Here’s how ratings work, explained by someone who understands them too well and cares about them too much.
What the Number Means
Your PDGA rating is a number that represents your average performance in sanctioned tournaments. Higher is better. It gets updated roughly once a month based on recent results.
The scale goes something like this, roughly:
Under 800 \u2014 Beginner. Still learning the basics. Nothing wrong with this, everyone starts here or close to it.
800-850 \u2014 Recreational. You know how to play, you’re having fun, you’re not competitive yet.
850-900 \u2014 Intermediate. You’ve got some skills, you’re probably beating most casual players, you’re starting to think about form and strategy more seriously.
900-950 \u2014 Advanced. This is where I am, hovering around 932 on a good day. You’re competitive in local tournaments, you have consistent form, you understand course management.
950-1000 \u2014 Elite amateur. You’re really good. Like, noticeably good. People ask you for tips.
1000+ \u2014 Open level. This is touring pro territory. You’re probably trying to make a career of this. Most recreational players will never see this number.
These aren’t official categories, just general vibes. The actual divisions for tournaments are more specific.
How It’s Calculated
Okay so this is where it gets kind of nerdy. Bear with me.
Every sanctioned round you play gets a “round rating” based on your score relative to the course’s difficulty. The course difficulty is measured by something called SSA \u2014 Scratch Scoring Average \u2014 which is basically what a 1000-rated player would be expected to shoot on that course that day.
If the SSA is 54 and you shoot 54, your round rating is 1000. If you shoot 64, your round rating is roughly 900. Every stroke above or below SSA is worth about 10 rating points, give or take.
Your official rating is an average of your round ratings over your most recent events, weighted toward more recent tournaments. So a bad round six months ago matters less than a bad round last weekend. This is both good and bad depending on whether your recent rounds have been good or bad.
The exact formula involves some statistical stuff I don’t fully understand and don’t need to. The important thing is: play well consistently, number goes up. Play badly, number goes down. It lags a bit because it’s averaging, so one great round doesn’t spike you up immediately and one disaster doesn’t tank you immediately. Usually.
My Personal Rating Journey
I got my PDGA membership in 2018, played my first sanctioned tournament that summer. Shot terribly \u2014 I think my first rated round was like 847 or something. I was nervous, the format was different from casual play, I made dumb mistakes. Normal first tournament stuff.
Over the next couple years I climbed pretty steadily. Broke 900 in 2019, which felt huge. Hit 920 in 2020, then got stuck there for what felt like forever. Plateaus are real and frustrating.
My peak was 941. This was maybe early 2023? I had a string of good tournaments, everything was clicking, I felt like I was finally becoming the player I wanted to be. Then I had a terrible event at Milo \u2014 the course I know best, which made it worse \u2014 and dropped back to the low 930s. I’m at 932 right now and I’ve been hovering there for months.
That Milo tournament still bothers me. I 4-putted from inside circle on hole 7. In front of my cardmates. One of them was a guy I’d beaten the previous month. The memory is seared into my brain. I think about it more often than is healthy.
Why People Care About Ratings
Ratings serve some practical purposes. They determine what division you play in at tournaments. They give you a consistent measure of progress over time. They let you compare yourself to players you’ve never met. They’re useful data, basically.
But the reason people actually care \u2014 the reason I check mine weekly like a weirdo \u2014 is ego. It’s a number that says how good you are. It goes up when you play well and down when you don’t. It’s external validation in numeric form. Very hard not to get attached to.
The problem is that ratings don’t capture everything about your game or your value as a player. They’re an average of tournament performances, which is a specific and somewhat artificial context. They don’t measure how fun you are to play with, how much you’ve improved your weakest shots, how well you handle pressure, how much you contribute to your local scene. They’re just a number. An incomplete number.
I know this intellectually. I still check it weekly.
Should You Get Rated?
You need a PDGA membership to have an official rating, which costs like $50/year. You also need to play sanctioned events, which usually have entry fees and more serious vibes than casual rounds.
The benefits: structure, community, something to train toward, access to sanctioned competition. Some people really thrive with external motivation and tournaments provide that.
The drawbacks: money, pressure, the possibility of becoming obsessive about a number like I have. Not everyone needs to compete. Casual disc golf is completely valid and might actually be more fun for a lot of people.
My advice is to wait until you actually want to compete. Don’t get a membership just because it seems like the next step. Play some unsanctioned events first. See if you enjoy the tournament format. If you do, and you find yourself wanting to measure yourself against others, then consider joining.
I don’t regret getting rated. But I sometimes wonder if I’d have a healthier relationship with the sport if I’d never seen my number.
The Advice I Give But Don’t Follow
Here’s what I tell people who are new to ratings and starting to obsess:
Focus on the process, not the outcome. Your rating is a trailing indicator of your skill. If you’re working on the right things \u2014 form, putting, course management \u2014 the number will follow eventually. Watching it update won’t make it go up faster.
Bad rounds happen. Single events don’t define you. The rating is an average over time specifically because individual performances vary. Don’t let one bad tournament crush you.
Compare yourself to your past self, not to others. Are you rated higher than you were a year ago? Then you’re improving. That’s what matters. Someone else being rated higher than you is irrelevant to your own progress.
Take breaks from checking. Seriously. Once a month is plenty. Once a week is already too much. I know this and I still check weekly, which is how I know it’s a bad habit.
This is all good advice. I believe it. I recommend it. I just don’t follow it myself because apparently I need external validation from a website that updates once a month. We all have our flaws.
Anyway
Ratings are a tool. They’re useful for some things. They’re not the point of the sport. They don’t measure everything that matters. You can have a completely fulfilling disc golf life without ever getting rated, and you can have an unhealthy relationship with the sport while being obsessively rated.
Learn from my mistakes. Or don’t \u2014 I didn’t learn from anyone else’s. Welcome to the obsession.