What is a Come and Try?

The beginners course has always been considered the entry point to archery. Sign up; come for 3 or more sessions; learn technique, safety and etiquette; graduate and if you and archery are vibing .. we roll out the welcome mat. (Just ignore the three idiots sniggering over by the container, the huge collection of equipment, the formula 1 style engineers working on that compound and the smell of sausages ... those all come later.)

However, a Come and Try can be that first actual step to archery and is a little more subtle than you making a conscious decision to begin archery.

Archery is a Tease

changing the batteries on his socks OR showing us an ankle? Oh you tease!

The Come and Try functions a bit like the advertising billboard, the trailer for the main feature, breadcrumbs to the gingerbread house, the tease if you like. Here, we'll take care of the etiquette and safety, leaving you free to concentrate on the fun bit ... shooting. You are on the line and shooting just 2 minutes after thinking "mibi I'll give archery a try". You even get your own dedicated 'coach' just like the pros. It's the condensed archery experience. All the shootie, with none of the other stuff archers learn over time and with experience.

In days gone by (pre-internet), Come and Try's used to be a major way of tempting people to join archery. Clubs would attend events - highland shows, fetes, exhibitions. Have a small secure area to one side where shootie at extremely short range could be done. And for a shiny sixpence, 1 bob, 10p, 50p, £1 (depending on era and inflation) you could shoot, say, a dozen arrows. The club would make some cash, you got a neatly packaged archery experience and in some cases, a small smoldering ember was lit which ultimately leads to a raging forest fire of archery addiction.

Balloons

The real star of any Come & Try is the humble balloon. Archers won’t admit it, but balloons have an almost supernatural ability to turn perfectly sensible adults into overexcited eight year olds. One minute they’re standing there politely, listening to the coach explain anchor points; the next they’re leaning forward, eyes wide, whispering “I want to burst THAT balloon”. Wanting it like it’s the last doughnut in Greggs.

Noob: damn wind!
Coach: Hey you're a natural!

We've seen it all. Dads who bring their kids "just to watch" and then quietly occupy the line for an hour. Engineers forget they were just idly watching and start calculating trajectories with slide-rules. Doctors giggling at balloon confetti. Balloons don't discriminate. They simply lure everyone in. And honestly, it’s no mystery why:

• Instant feedback: Hit balloon → balloon explodes → dopamine fireworks.
• Big noise: A satisfying pop that echoes across the field and makes everyone turn to see who just achieved greatness.
• Suspense: That slow-motion moment where the arrow seems to take forever, everything goes quiet, and the balloon appears to be laughing at you.

It’s simple, it’s silly, and it works every time. Balloons don’t judge your form, they don’t care about your release, and they absolutely don’t mind if you squeal a little when you hit one. They’re the perfect gateway into the chaos and joy of archery .. and we’ve learned to trust them. Balloons know what they’re doing.

Our History of Come and Try

If you rummage through the dusty corners of GA’s past - somewhere between 1986 Gents Recurve Champion results and whatever’s living under the container - you’ll find that Come & Try sessions have been part of club life for decades. Back in the early 1960s, Glasgow Archers set up shop at the Schoolboys’ Pastimes Exhibition in the Kelvin Hall. For the princely sum of 6d, you got four arrows and the chance to burst balloons. Pop all four and you got your money back, which in those days was basically the height of sporting glory. Whether you hit anything or not, you left with a club flyer and a story.
Fast‑forward nearly half a century to 2010, when the Archery World Cup Final rolled into Edinburgh. GA were out on Princes Street, right at the foot of the Scott Monument, giving passersby a taste of archery in between tourist bus tours and being assaulted by bagpipes. Hundreds tried it, dozens asked questions, and at least a few walked away wondering why they suddenly cared so much about anchor points and string pictures.

Rounding up