Report from UKAT World Cup 2026, part three

And so, the second day of competition began. Friday’s breakfast was a repeat of the day before, rounded off with a robust double espresso. I hoped that my knife throwing that day would be just as strong as the coffee—and leave a pleasant aftertaste.

That hope also implied a desire to put the previous day behind me. Did that happen? Well, that’s hard to say. Considering I did walk away with a medal in the end, I suppose I shouldn't be entirely dissatisfied; not everyone comes home with one. Yet, the journey there and the way things unfolded leave me feeling less than fully content. There was so much more potential, especially given how much I had trained. Overall, my performance was abysmal. My throwing went up and down like the wildest amusement park ride.

Selected equipment: Throwingzone Pathfinder for no-spin, Zitoon Le Primitif (rotational) for walk-back, and Bullseye Blades Nobu for long-distance throwing. For the duel, the Zitoon Dague Commemorative was chosen. 

But that is getting ahead of things. First thing in the morning—before breakfast—I had already made a few practice throws in a virtually empty warm-up area. The feel was far from perfect, yet decent enough; it was mostly just to get my muscles and throwing arm moving. The actual warm-up throws took place later, right before each specific discipline. After all, there is a difference between standard knife throwing, drawing and throwing from a sheath, No-Spin, and axe throwing. It was hot, so a physical warm-up was hardly necessary; it was more about getting my mind in the right place and mulling over a few details.

I had decided on my sequence beforehand. I would start with the precision distances for knife throwing, then move on to the "walk-back" phase. The plan was to repeat that same order for No-Spin and axe throwing.

The calm before the storm: an empty competition arena in Carpi, Italy

It quickly became apparent that the heat was intense and that some people were struggling with it. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I had trained in similar conditions, so it didn't affect me too badly. Still, just like everyone else, it drained my energy, and fatigue eventually set in. Initially, however, I was actually over-excited without even realizing it.

Rotational

There isn't much to say about the first stage, the 3m rotation. I scored a few points below my usual training average, resulting in a score of 98. However, even my best training scores wouldn't be enough for gold at this level. I don't struggle to hit the target at that distance, but maintaining concentration for the duration of the event is difficult; usually, I score between 101 and 103 points back home. The result was good enough for eleventh place.

From the next distance, 5 m, 69 points were scored, which is a result best forgotten. It is simply not feasible. Bullseye fives were mixed in with some ones and twos and no less than three zeroes. Piss poor result for me as I should have been around ninety points. Therefore, I was no better than 29th in the competition.

I fared somewhat better at the 7-meter mark, finishing in 15th place. This was despite four major blunders in the form of dropped knives. I don’t usually drop any, even though my groupings can be a bit scattered at this distance. The worst part was that the very first throw was one of those drops; it set the tone for my mood and, consequently, the rest of the session.

My plan was for a solid performance at 3.5 and 7 meters to lay a strong foundation for the upcoming "Walk Back." Since I had already started dropping knives at the 5-meter mark, there were already significant cracks in that foundation.

This had an immediate impact, and the first half, in particular, went completely off the rails. For instance, in the second round, I shot a 3-5-1 sequence from three meters and scored only TWO points from seven meters in that same set! That is remarkably poor for me; from three meters, it should be 5-5-5—nothing else. I tightened up my game a bit after that, but by then, it had already gotten into my head. I just wanted to get it over with; the joy was completely gone. My final score was 175—compared to the 240–250 I usually throw in practice, and my personal best is even higher than that.

A time of waiting—soon it’ll be my turn.

That left two disciplines: one I barely master and am a complete novice at—meaning expectations were very low—and one where I am a multiple-time Swedish champion and already held two World Championship medals. Namely, Axe and No-Spin, respectively. One was a relaxed event, while the other actually carried a fair amount of prestige.

No Spin

No Spin was the first of the two disciplines. However, the throwing order was changed—mostly because I was feeling unsure and wanted more practice throws on the competition targets before the 3-meter round, where I was defending last year's performance.

But it turned into a nightmare. It didn't start too badly: scores of 5, 4, and 4 on the first three throws from 3 meters. Not perfect, but not unusual when nerves come into play; there is always room for improvement in later rounds. Then came scores of 4, 4, and 4—slightly lower than my target for the 4-meter distance, but still a perfectly acceptable result. After that, things went downhill fast. A mental collapse meant I simply couldn't throw effectively from the longer distances that day. Everything seized up; my average score from 7 meters ended up being just 1.1 points!

Throughout the competition, I managed to hold it together for the short distances but faltered on the longer ones. By the end, I was barely reaching the target. All my technique had vanished, all my training seemed undone, and I couldn't solve the problem right there on the spot. I felt truly disheartened.

I was disappointed, yet I tried to hold onto the fact that I had, after all, scored some points from the 3- and 4-meter marks. That was what I could focus on as the time came for the big effort. I was there to defend the gold medal I had won in the Czech Republic in 2025. In other words, I had more to lose than to gain.

In practice, I usually score around 100–102 points; last year, I scored 95 at the World Championships. Here, the score was a bit lower. I don’t know exactly why. It was a combination of me being tense and the targets—which were actually very good—becoming really hard when the sun beat down on them all day. What dragged the score down was a "three" and—the worst part—a dropped knife! Despite that, I suppose you could say I managed a score of 93.

A certain sense of calm settled over me. I didn’t know then what that score would be enough for, but at least I could say I had put in a decent performance. I can’t control what everyone else does.

If I had hoped that this would carry over to the other two events, I was disappointed. A measly 53 points and a 15th-place finish in the five-meter event is nothing I intend to brag about. The seven-meter event turned into a complete farce. After a while, I was so disheartened that I basically stopped throwing. The result was laughably low: 13(!) points and 34th place. Does anyone know a good sports psychologist?

Axe

My performance in this area is best described simply as a statement of fact. I haven’t done much axe throwing in my life—just over a year, really—and I haven’t had the best conditions for training, either. In the precision event, I scored 68 points from 3 meters, 58 points from 5 meters, and 25 points from 7 meters, placing 70th, 57th, and 65th respectively. In the "Walk Back" event, I scored 184 points; this was a bit of a letdown, as I had hoped to beat my own modest competition record of 213 points—a goal that was entirely realistic but ultimately missed.

In the evening, it was time for the World Championship dinner.

After the throw, I was a bit downcast at first. It felt like I had truly missed my chance. Throughout the spring and summer, I had certainly had every opportunity to train extensively, and a good deal of that training had gone well. In particular, I had worked on a couple of things that had now let me down—specifically, the No-Spin distance event.

At the same time, I had successfully defended my gold medal in that very discipline. For the second year running, I was the gold medalist, which implies that, at my best, I am likely capable of throwing No-Spin with a certain degree of precision.

What remained for Saturday were the Coutanque event and the long-distance competitions across all disciplines. That—along with some concluding thoughts—will be covered in the final part.

/ J - on the roller coaster