A True Story About Understanding, Consistency, and Solving Decades of Misses

A Quick Note Before We Continue

Ordinarily, this would be presented as a two-part article. However, the lessons, discoveries, and breakthroughs shared here are best understood as one complete story. As a result, this article is a little longer than our typical format.

• • •

Jeff looked at me and said, “I’ve heard plenty of opinions on my shooting. Trust me, they’re not working. I just want to learn how—what do I have to do to make my shooting actually work?” His tired expression still showing hope for answers.

Having flown halfway across the country to work with me, he said in earnest, “I’m willing to be a good student of the game.”

“You are a good student of the game, Jeff. Your being here confirms that.”

Your last X or O a mystery?
Looking for answers? Understandings?
Choose your source very carefully.

This is a true story about how highly personal, competent instruction can provide not just trustworthy methods, but a shooting system that delivers consistency, X after X.

XXXX

“I understand Jeff. Tell me about your shooting.”

He did. Years of wingshooting—grouse, pheasants, ducks and geese—he'd paid his dues in the field with birds escaping, each applauding his endless trial-and-error shooting methods. And now, Sporting Clays being newer territory, there's more inconsistency. Again, only worse, nothing was adding up. Sixty years old, a successful contractor, he was used to passing demanding tests. Tests he had to pass and in the shooting box he wasn’t. All he had was his gun and his instincts, and they weren’t cutting it.

“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he asked. “I read your books, Dan. Without a shooting system, relying on instinct to improve is just expensive guessing, yes?”

“Unquestionably, yes.”

A bit of anger surfacing, he added, “There’s also this eye thing. At least I think it’s an eye thing. Shows up out of nowhere. The missing that follows drives me crazy. Nobody’s ever figured it out.”

“You and I will Jeff.”

Our discussion was taking place the evening before Day One. I prefer to meet with my student earlier, ninety minutes or so, no shotgun, no targets. Just conversation. Because I need to learn who you are, what you want before I begin teaching you. Come lesson time, my doing so expedites your progress in the shooting box. Not just Xs. Real learning.

Here’s what I mean. Attorney. Accountant. Engineer. Surgeon. High school Junior. Mom at home. Math or English major—the way you think shapes how fast, how well you’ll use every correction and every recommendation I make to you. I have to get on your page first.

I asked him, “What do you want out of our time together, Jeff? To take home?”

“Every shell, every target, I want to understand exactly what I need to do and how.” He leaned forward a little. “No disrespect, Dan, but I don’t want an instructor behind me forever. I didn’t come here to break targets. I want to leave knowing the methods, the knowledge that will keep teaching me how to break targets, consistently, long after my lessons.”

That kind of request makes this instructor’s work worthwhile.

XXXX

On Day One, we started with his eyes.

With both eyes open on the test target, his muzzle followed my instruction precisely. X. X. X. X. X. No visible problems, no adjustment needed — at least not yet. I’d not lose that either – watching carefully as his lesson progressed, every shell.

Next Station. I took my time outlining the shooting method on this target, our sport’s most common presentation. Those basics being the very foundation under all the learning to follow.

Shell by shell, instinctive shooting began to give way to a deliberately built swing. X's coming on purpose. When he missed—with learning in place—he saw why—the swing mistake—no guessing—correcting with the next shell. X. For someone who’d spent years with a swing based on hope, these were the revelations he came for. Clarity, one-by-one understandings, replacing all the mystery.

With the lesson well underway, eyes working, swing working, and measurable progress confirmed, both of us were optimistic, secure in our progress. The next revelation? Silently bearing down on us like a freight train.

As the afternoon heat intensified, Jeff sweating, his movements began to show some fatigue. I saw it; we discussed possible swing consequences. He thought about it and asked to stay on course. Respecting his call—my finger moved to another button on the controller—eyes watching.

He asked, “Show bird please.” Knowing the sight picture and the moves it would take, he missed it cleanly. I saw where the miss went. Exactly. Suspicious now, I made a mental note. Jeff said it looked right to him. Read that again—he saw what he believed was the correct picture and missed.

Next target. Again, I saw the miss go to the same place, right where I expected it to. Jeff looked at me, certain that his shot placement had been right. He asked, “One more please.”

Lost.

“Hold on, Jeff—time out.”

I knew where we were. Fatigue had finally forced the eye issue into the open where we could identify the cause of the missing. To confirm my evaluation, I asked Jeff for one more target. The miss went to the same place. Exactly. We’re done!!

I asked him what he saw. Same answer. Each missed target, the sight picture he kept seeing looked correct at the trigger pull. His perception? Not reality.

With his gun over my shoulder, I took a few seconds. A serious moment for both of us. Coupled with my sincere assurance that yes, I knew where we were, I offered Jeff a specific eye adjustment with a clear explanation on how to apply it.

Smiling, nodding in agreement, he did. Correctly. X. X. Two perfect swings. Head down, he paused and said, “Two more, please.” X. X. Dead center, inspiring breaks.

Jeff turned and reached for me. Not for a handshake—a bear hug celebrating his success - his deliberate breaks – and most importantly, the ending of decades of uncertainty, upsetting disagreements and ultimately defeat. Choking back tears, this sixty-year-old man finally had the answer, one he understood and could trust.

He said, “That’s what it’s been every time this happens, isn’t it?”

“That’s all it’s been, Jeff. Your age, your eyes, and some fatigue. Welcome home. No more uncertainty. Trapper ready.”

A few more, each meeting expectations, X. X. X. X.

XXXX

For multiple reasons, when fatigue set in, what Jeff saw over the muzzle had looked real and correct to him. It wasn’t. Reality? His tired eyes gave him a totally reassuring but false picture, moving his gun just enough off the target. O. O. O. Every instructor before had not seen the cause of the miss and blamed Jeff. Told him he wasn’t listening, which only promised the next miss. No one had watched carefully enough, or knew enough, to correctly evaluate what was happening and adjust.

By this example and others, vision issues can and all too often do cause missing. IF (emphasis added) an adjustment is in fact called for, the correct adjustment will require the correct evaluation.

Together—after considerable discussion to prevent this from unexpectedly happening again tomorrow—Jeff and I agreed he would keep working with the eye adjustment in place.

Good decision.

Day Two? In one word—spectacular.

The shooting system and eye adjustment worked—target after target—every clean and intentional swing ended with an X. Not luck — understanding. His finally knowing – on each target presentation – what to do and how.

At the afternoon's end, I asked him, “You have it now? Not just what to do—you understand how?”

“OH Yeah,” he said with a smile, “now I do.”

To sum up Jeff’s story. A competent instructor learns you before starting to teach you. Your background, your thinking, where you are on the ladder of skills, your aspirations — these aren’t small talk. Your answers are the foundation upon which your teacher should be building everything. In doing so, taking advantage of every personal strength.

And let’s not forget: during a lesson, for you to see improvement, an X on every target is not the goal. Your goal—and your teacher’s goal—is your learning how to build an X swing. What it looks like when it’s right so you can repeat it—and when you miss, how to recognize the cause of the miss yourself.

When you’re paying an instructor to learn—to improve your shooting—regardless of how incredibly well your instructor can shoot or how much he or she knows, it won’t mean anything to you—will have no value whatsoever—if that instructor cannot transfer that knowledge into your mind, your hands, your eyes, and your understanding of how to build a consistent X-swing.

Jeff didn’t leave with a band-aid method that occasionally produced Xs. He left understanding an utterly dependable shooting process—each step of a detailed system he could trust to produce deliberate, repeatable XXXXXX. There is a profound difference between the former and the latter—and, in my opinion, the latter is worth flying across the country for.

If your shooting still contains mysteries, unanswered questions, or inconsistencies you can’t explain, perhaps it’s time to stop guessing and start understanding.

Because when you understand what happened and why it happened, improvement is no longer a matter of luck.

It becomes a process.

A process you can trust.

Be safe. Shoot well. And thank you sincerely for spending time with us.

XXXX

Want to continue learning?

Many shooters begin their Paragon journey with Dan Schindler's books and audio programs before working with Dan personally. These trusted resources have helped shooters in more than 30 countries better understand their shooting, solve problems, and build greater consistency.