Adam Riser and Adam Maxwell from the On The Perf podcast broke down everything that separates good ROs from Gary-tier ones in their Episode 51 deep dive. If you’ve ever worked a match or plan to volunteer, this nearly two-hour conversation is packed with practical wisdom from years of experience on both sides of the timer.
Here’s the thing about Range Officers at multigun matches: they’re volunteers. Nobody’s getting rich running a shot timer and calling hits. But when you fly across the country, rent a car, pay overweight fees, take four days off work, and invest thousands of dollars to compete—that volunteer is the customer-facing part of your entire match experience.
Most ROs do a solid job. Some are exceptional. And a few make you question every life decision that led you to their stage. Adam Riser estimates that out of roughly 100 ROs he’s interacted with this season, about 20 were legitimately great, three were match-ruining bad, and the rest were forgettably fine. That’s actually pretty good odds, but those three stick with you.
So what separates the good from the terrible? Let’s break it down.
This seems obvious. It’s apparently not.
If you’re going to stand there and enforce rules, pay the shooters the respect of having actually read them. Not just skimmed them once. Actually know them. USPSA, Texas Multigun, PCSL, Zoo City—they’re all similar but subtly different. The specifics around range commands, scoring, penalties, when a bullet hole touching a line counts, what happens when a target wasn’t pasted between shooters—this stuff matters.
Adam Maxwell puts it bluntly: most ROs—maybe 70%—have barely an elementary-level understanding of the rules. That’s fine when everything goes smoothly. It becomes a problem when a short muscle hamster throws his shotgun at a dump barrel and misses.
Know when to give stop calls. Know what penalties you can assess yourself versus what requires the Range Master. Know the rules cold, because shooters will find the gaps in your knowledge if you don’t.
Multi-day majors aren’t club matches. You’re going to be on your feet, in the elements, for several days straight. Most of us are house cats now. Unless you actually work outside, your body isn’t ready for this.
Bring survival gear. Appropriate clothing for the weather—rain gear, sun hoodies, warm layers. Sunscreen. A chair. For the love of everything, bring a chair and sit down whenever you can. You’re going to walk so much that by the time you feel tired, it’s already too late.
Same with food and hydration. The match might feed you lunch. Your body might not appreciate that pulled pork sandwich in the middle of August. Bring the stuff that works for you. Whatever stimulants you prefer—this isn’t the time to go cold turkey on caffeine or nicotine.
Most medical emergencies at matches aren’t competitor injuries. They’re staff members who didn’t take care of themselves in the heat.
One person should read the stage brief. Read it exactly the same to every squad. Don’t ad-lib. Don’t add jokes unless you’re committed to telling that same joke all day long.
If you need to add housekeeping notes—like “we’re scoring right to left” or “the shotgun barrel is on your left”—write it down so you say it consistently.
Why? Because when something goes sideways, a competitor’s first move is often to claim “you didn’t say that in the briefing.” If you’ve been consistent, you can pull out the paper and point to exactly what you said. If you’ve been winging it, you’re exposed.
Good ROs will also physically show where all targets are on natural terrain stages. Count them before every day to make sure the paper matches reality. Incorrect round counts on big outdoor stages are more common than anyone wants to admit.
This is a problem-solving sport. The stage is a puzzle. Shooters need to solve it themselves.
When an RO starts explaining how their squad shot it, or suggesting that “most people are shooting the slugs from here,” they’re giving advice. Don’t do that. Let people figure it out. Maybe the previous squad’s plan was terrible. Maybe someone figured out a secret angle that earned them an advantage. Either way, it’s not your information to share.
The same goes for announcing fastest times so far. Some competitors don’t want to know. Let them shoot their own stage without framing their expectations.
Shooters ask questions. That’s fine. Answer them simply.
“Can I shoot this target from here?” Yes. Or no.
“Is there a penalty for that?” Yes. Or no.
Don’t add qualifiers. Don’t explain your reasoning. Don’t say “well, most people…” Just yes or no. Anything else opens the door to interpretation and gives shooters ammunition when things go wrong.
This especially matters for 180 questions. If a shooter asks whether they can shoot a target from a specific spot—clearly worried about getting DQ’d—don’t respond with “you will be DQ’d for any 180 violation.” That’s not helpful. Either confirm the spot is safe or tell them where the line is. If you’re vague, you’ve set up an RO trap.
On the flip side, if a shooter asks something that’s a terrible idea, you can still answer “yes, you can do that without penalty.” You’re not obligated to save them from bad plans.
The squad is entitled to whatever walkthrough time the match specifies. Period. If they want four minutes, they get four minutes unless they collectively say they’re ready.
When matches run behind schedule, staff members sometimes try to rush things. “You guys all watched the squad ahead of you, so here’s the briefing and we’re starting.” That’s not how this works. Even if shooters observed someone else’s run, they’re entitled to walk the stage themselves.
Also: don’t let other squads scout stages while the current squad is shooting. Be polite about it, but keep people off until it’s their turn. There’s a difference between helping reset and sneaking looks at angles.
If you’re calling hits on anything past close range, you need glass. But the kind of glass matters.
Spotting scopes have high magnification and tiny fields of view. You can’t see an array of targets without moving the scope. They’re sensitive to panning. They’re basically useless for what ROs actually need to do.
Binoculars have wider fields of view. You can watch multiple targets simultaneously. Less magnification, but you can actually see what’s happening.
If a specific target is 800 yards out and genuinely needs a spotting scope, set it up on a tripod pointed at that one target. Don’t try to pan your Hubble telescope around while a shooter is ripping through an array.
Modern matches should have strobe indicators on long-range targets. If you’re paying $150+ for a match fee, the match owes you that technology.
Whoever is calling hits should be someone other than the RO standing next to the shooter. That RO’s job is watching the gun and the shooter, not looking through glass.
And once you say “hit,” you can’t take it back. If you mess up and call a hit on a miss, that’s on you. Shooters get to keep that call. Don’t try to walk it back on the clock.
When a stage requires multiple hits on static steel, the call should be “one, two.” Not “hit one, hit two.” Not “that’s your first hit.” Just one, two.
For plate racks or arrays with multiple targets, count unique hits in ascending order. If they hit the same plate twice, repeat the number or say nothing. Keep it simple so the shooter knows their count without having a conversation.
If you think something unsafe might happen, yell stop. If you’re wondering whether you should call stop, you already know the answer.
The beauty of the stop call is there’s no penalty for getting it wrong. If you stop someone and it turns out nothing was actually wrong, they get a reshoot. They came here to shoot anyway. Bonus stage.
But if you don’t stop someone and they actually break a rule, you’ve potentially ruined their match. The inverse isn’t true—stopping someone when it’s unwarranted just gives them a do-over.
Stop calls are appropriate anytime something gets out of control. Adam Maxwell once called a stop when a shooter was working his way back through a stage and there was a random person pasting targets in the danger zone. Nobody got hurt. Shooter got a reshoot. Problem solved.
This is critical. If you’re going to make a call—especially a DQ call—you need to know what happened. Not think. Know.
“Well, I think it was past 180” doesn’t cut it. If you’re going to ruin someone’s weekend, you better be certain. If you don’t know, there’s no call. Tie goes to the runner.
Once you make a call, stop talking. Don’t start explaining your reasoning. Don’t hedge. Make the call and shut up. If they don’t like it, let them call the Range Master. That’s what the hierarchy exists for.
The worst thing you can do is get wishy-washy after making a call. “Well, I think that’s Alpha Mike” opens the door for argument. Make the call. Pull the target. Call the Range Master if there’s a dispute. Move on.
If a shooter disputes an RO’s call, the Range Master gets involved. That’s normal. It’s not a challenge to your authority. It’s just how the game works.
When the Range Master shows up, let them talk to the RO first. They need context before talking to the shooter. Good Range Masters want to assess the situation on its merits before they even know who’s involved—because knowing it’s their friend might bias them.
If the shooter still disagrees with the Range Master’s ruling, there’s often an arbitration process above that. A jury of peers—one match official and two competitors—reviews the situation. Usually requires a $100 deposit that gets returned if you win.
The process exists. Use it if you feel strongly. Don’t grumble all the way home about a bad call when you could have filed for arbitration.
Despite all the potential pitfalls, most ROs do their jobs well. The sport is full of sharp, competent volunteers who take pride in running stages fairly.
But we need more of them. The sport is dependent on people willing to step up. Being a sponsored shooter isn’t helping the sport grow. Working matches is.
If ROing isn’t your thing, there are other ways to contribute—scoring, administration, marketing, prize tables. Everyone who sticks around should help somewhere. The sport only works because volunteers make it work.
Listen to the full episode on On The Perf with hosts Adam Riser and Adam Maxwell. They cover gear, techniques, and tactics for 3-Gun, USPSA, PCSL, and other action shooting sports.
