Friday: The Noise Before the Noise
You could hear Spencer Fabionar before you saw him.
Not yelling — the sound of bags hitting boards, rhythmic and inevitable, like someone tapping out destiny before sunrise.
He had just landed on a red-eye, no sleep, half a breakfast sandwich in his bag. He found the boards, found the line, and then somehow found Ethan Walker, David Morse, and Luke Bryant for Crew Cup.
Second place. Not bad for a man running on coffee and spite.
They lost to the champs, which sounds sad until you realize that’s the kind of loss that makes future trophies nervous.
Then came the Tier 1 Blind Draw — where the universe likes to make jokes.
Spencer draws Lonnie Campos, a solid dude. Across the court? Richard Nyberg and Gabriel Clauson.
Brotherhood vs. Brotherhood.
It’s like fighting your cousin at Thanksgiving — you don’t want to, but you absolutely do.
Richard and Gabe win. Spencer and Lonnie take second.
Brotherhood sweeps. The world keeps spinning.
Saturday: The Groove (and a Little Chaos)
Rounders. Spencer and Tony Forbes went 6-0 like they were late for something.
Six wins. Not a single eyebrow raised.
They didn’t explode; they exhaled excellence.
Then the bracket starts, and immediately they almost lose the first game because the cornhole gods are dramatic like that.
But they shake it off, fix their tempo, and start playing the kind of cornhole that ruins people’s confidence in physics.
The final? 21–20, then 21–16. Tight scores, sure — but make no mistake: they were in charge.
Afterward? No shouting, no confetti, no inspirational quote.
Just two guys who looked at each other like, “Cool. Next.”
Swagger, but make it quiet.
Sunday: Planes, Thirds, and a Punchline
Spencer finishes third in Singles, packs up early for a flight that doesn’t actually leave.
Sometimes the only thing that can stop a run is airline logistics.
Sunday: Flights and Thirds
Sunday gave Spencer a third-place singles finish — a strong run cut short by a flight that never actually left.
He laughed about it later. The bags fly truer than planes sometimes.
Gage Landis: The Still Surface, Deep Water
If Spencer’s a storm, Gage Landis is the tide — steady, impossible to shake.
Crew Cup with Colin Hodet, Gavin Cano, and Logan Chamberlain? 1st.
Six-and-oh in Doubles with Colin. Another Top 5 in bracket play.
Then Singles — undefeated to the King Seat, double-dipped the bracket, makes the Final Four, loses to Mark Richards, who may or may not be part machine.
Gage didn’t sulk. He doesn’t do that. He nodded, packed his gear, and started thinking about Richmond.
Some people play for spotlight. Gage plays for silence.
Keyara Peterson: Calm Fire in the Heat
Keyara Peterson doesn’t blink.
She just keeps throwing like the board owes her something.
Second place in Open Women’s, and if you’re wondering who she lost to, it doesn’t matter — the Code 3s did everything but catch fire midair.
The Florida humidity tried to rattle her. It failed.
Mailyn Dela Cruz Gigante: Focus and Fight
Florida heat doesn’t shake Mailyn — she throws like the air’s standing still.
4th in Women’s Singles, dropping a 10.23 PPR that would make most players blink twice.
T7th in Women’s Doubles with Keyara, steady at 10.09.
4-2 in Rounders. Top 25 in Open Doubles. Top 13 in Open Singles.
That’s consistency across three days and four formats — the kind of work that doesn’t need applause to prove it matters.
Her Code 3Rs were perfect on sticky boards, the bag doing exactly what she asked every time.
She called it a “wonderful learning experience.” Everyone else called it a problem they’ll have to deal with next time.
Richard Nyberg: The Human Metronome
If precision were a person, it’d look like Richard Nyberg.
He and Gabriel Clauson rolled through the Tier 1 Blind Draw like they were following a map no one else could read.
You know those players who never seem impressed by their own success? That’s Richard.
He wins the games you forget to watch — the ones that decide everything.
Mike Miller & Brayton English: Veteran Gravity
These two? They don’t need hype.
Mike Miller and Brayton English just exist in a state of “professional.”
Rock Hill? Consistent.
Winter Haven? Same thing.
They’re not chasing medals; they’re building foundation.
They’re the guys you call when the lights flicker and you need someone steady.
Donald Cupp: The Newcomer Who Didn’t Miss
Enter Donald Cupp — first event, first win.
He and Steve Schroeder take 1st in Senior Open Doubles like it was preordained.
Some players show up nervous. Donald showed up like he’d already seen the movie and knew how it ended.
You could feel it — the Brotherhood bench just got deeper.
Hunter Thorson: The Traveler
Hunter Thorson plays like a man collecting memories, not medals — though he’s got those too.
Open #1, he and Hunter Thorne go 3-2 in doubles. Third in singles.
MN State? Doubles with Eddie Wenker, 1st. Singles, 4th.
Winter Haven? “Offbeat,” he called it. Ninth in doubles with Quinn Reeves.
It’s not failure, it’s the road.
Because after every event, he says the same thing: how lucky he is to travel, throw, and build memories.
That’s not cornhole talk. That’s philosophy disguised as airmail.
Quebec: North of the Wall, Same Result
While Florida was sweating, Frank Verona was somewhere in Quebec, quietly dismantling everyone in sight.
Singles? 1st.
Doubles? 1st.
Two golds, zero words.
The man treats victory like a chore he happens to enjoy.
The Thread
From Rock Hill to Battle of the Queens, from Winter Haven to Quebec, Brotherhood Cornhole isn’t chasing hype — it’s creating history one measured throw at a time.
No yelling, no smoke machines, no “look at me.”
Just bags, boards, and a brand of composure that makes opponents twitch.
You can’t fake that.
You can only earn it, one throw at a time.
BROTHERHOOD CORNHOLE
Performance. Family. Grit.
Follow the season → @BrotherhoodCornhole