"You did not shoot that bird. I did! He was dropping by the time your gun went off!"

My friend, Jeff, fired those words at me after I yelled, "I got him! I got him!"

We were both at fault. I wanted credit for the kill. So did Jeff. To this day, neither of us knows who actually dropped that rooster. Perhaps it was both of us. It doesn't matter.

What does matter is that Jeff and I drove home from Springview to Lincoln -- a five-hour trip -- without speaking 10 words to each other. Competition ruined our weekend hunt and temporarily ended our friendship.

That sad day occurred in December 1993. Since then, I've watched far too many battle scars form from hunting competition among friends. I know of two childhood buddies who won't speak to each today because of tense moments afield. Two other sportsmen yelled at each other, nearly exchanging blows, because one took a long archery shot at a turkey that was walking toward the other's ground blind. Just a month ago, I went through a competitive moment with a friend who later admitted jealousy had caused his hurtful behavior. These are tragic experiences, evidence that competition can send a friendship flying south in a hurry.

From left to right, RB Drickey, Jeff Brehm, Scott Westlund, Thom Ludtke and Zeke Pipher form the 2008 "Turkey Creek Team." This group of friends has been chasing spring turkeys together in Spencer, Neb., for more than a decade. Whenever someone bags a bird, the whole team celebrates.

However, not all competition is destructive. Competitiveness among friends can add exhilaration to a hunting trip. My hunting buddies, five guys I consider my closest friends, tease each other when we miss shots at deer. We rub it in when one turkey's beard is a bit longer than another's. We consistently look for ways to pick on each other for silly, insignificant things. I'll never forget the moment when four of us teased one friend, Scott, mercilessly when he pulled an egg out of a turkey he'd shot that morning.

Earlier, at the time of the kill, Scott jumped onto the radio to tell us he'd arrowed a "jake with not much color." I ribbed Scott hard when we realized he'd shot a hen. I called him the "big, bad hen slayer" that day. The Lord is perfect in his retribution. I accidentally shot a "lightly colored jake" the next day, making our annual turkey outing a "two-egg" affair. You can imagine how the "big, bad hen slayer" let me have it.

Competition is an odd thing. It can add a positive dynamic to an outing. But it can so easily cross that delicate line and end up damaging relationships. George Leonard said it well, "Competition is the spice of sports; but if you make spice the whole meal, you'll get sick."

Spicy, But Not Too Hot!
For the sake of this discussion, let me suggest there are two kinds of competition. Both can be healthy when carried out in the appropriate context.

I'll label the first type of competition "head-to-head combat." This is typically seen when a team or individual strives to defeat an opponent. In this type of competition, one person or team emerges victorious, the other defeated. Head-to-head competition is appropriate for many sports. I certainly want my Nebraska Cornhuskers to do head-to-head combat (and win!) when they take the field against the Oklahoma Sooners. Head-to-head combat is a good and necessary type of competition.