Mars, Day 3

Front Row: Krisztina, Heather, Julie, Elyssa, Jeff
Back Row: Jimmy, Blake, Dan, Jamie, Paul, Mike, Trash, Amy, Neil, Josh, Me, JP
Not Shown: Georgia, #1 Fan Carlina and Doc.

The third Marathon Mars Day started at 9:00am.

I think. I'm not quite sure.

I woke up in a haze of many kinds. I alternated between wondering where I was, what time it was, where I needed to be and why I didn't have any breakfast. I got up and out of the tent for a little while and stumbled around attempting to forage for food. By foraging, of course, I mean "rooting around in our van and my field bag for leftovers of anything from brownies to peaches." It seemed that everyone was getting ready for the game at this point and I hadn't really found anything substantive. Carlina (again) was awesome enough to go to Dunkin Donuts, so I knew food would be coming eventually. The bigger issue at this point was that we had a game to play and I was starving. The only thing I found was a big 'ole can of Amp energy drink in the front seat of the car. Ewww. Well, desperate times... I downed it for my liquid breakfast. Hooray? Wow, that is just a TON of sugar. Not at all my usual diet.

Game 1, No Child Left Behind, 15-6?
We won this game. I think Josh played two points. Jeff played zero. The other team was never really into it. Unfortunately for them, we had an expert on the "No Child Left Behind Act" so these guys didn't have a chance despite having a wicked fast woman (Jess) on their team. At some point in this game, a floaty disc was thrown to a woman on an incut and, as it seemed to hang there forever, both me and the guy I was covering rant to make a play. As I realized that both their woman and ours were standing below the disc, I slowed up before I jumped. Their man did no such thing, lept up, caught the disc and DEMOLISHED his teammate. I said to him, as he was standing over his fallen teammate who was sturdy enough not to be injured and aware enough to know that it was her teammate that took her out instead of me that "You can't make that play! Because if you do, you're encouraging ME to make that play. I know that if I come in full bore, she's not getting up that quickly and neither are you!" He seemed confused and slightly put off by this. What a ridiculous sport. Aside from that, Pallaver played well, if I recall correctly, including some silly no-pivot/all-arm backhand huck for a goal. I also think this is the game in which I threw my least-forced deep look to the best deep cut I saw all weekend. I'm always torn in these alum/fun tourneys. I honestly just want to put up 50/50 discs and watch my teammates make plays or force difficult throws into small spaces for kicks (because that's exactly what I don't do with Pike). After our first day, first game meltdown in which the other team (Hooray) came down with quite possibly every single one of those hucks after the first 7 points of the game (When we were up 4-3) I thought we would be in trouble all weekend. I don't know. I just like playing big-play style at these things to get it out of my system and to challenge myself. Like that 5-foot pull from the day before... During this game Carlina arrived with breakfast (YAAAAAY!). It was at this point that I realized I had not, in fact, placed an order and as such had no food to eat (BOOOOOO!). This is due to my bumbling in search of an energy source earlier in the morning. I'm an idiot.

After this game, they cheered us. I generally feel cheers are rather dumb (And am happy to see them making like the dodo), but this was pretty solidly done and entertaining, so I give them props. Our team then was then lead by Heather in some sort of sex-cheer. You'll have to find details for that somewhere else, because as soon as I heard we were doing a cheer, I had an overpowering need to urinate. I'm pretty sure I grumbled something obscene about cheering as I stumbled away.

L'Homme Rouge, 15-8?
I don't know who this team was exactly, but they had some irritatingly fun cheering going on. Why they want to be cheese-eating surrender monkeys is beyond me. Or perhaps rabid Francophilia is just kinda scary. This game was a little contentious and then a horrible play happened. After an earlier collision with a woman, one of our guys (Will "Trash" Reed) was playing D in the endzone (after not really doing much of anything on the field for most of our first game-- perhaps he should have joined the inactive list with Jeff and Josh for that bit) saw the disc go up, sprinted after it with full tunnel-vision intact and as he started to make a bid, a fact that was clear to everyone else on/near the field at the time made itself known to him: A woman had already caught the disc. Fuck. SMACK. CRUMPLE. (oh god...) Woman on the ground bleeding from her face. One of her teammates made sure that she was not dying and we breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, she had a broken nose. Will, appropriately, seemed to feel like an ass, but that, unsurprisingly, was of no comfort to the woman on the other team. This incident speaks to a number of issues that I have with coed which will be covered in a future post.

As this game went on, there were some other minor incidents (on the part of both teams) but I think I was actually not involved in any of them. At least, that is, until one of our women got taken out (we learned a few days later that it was a dislocated rib-- she did, however, keep playing in that point and the next game-- what a champ) and at some point one of their sideline guys said "That's 2-1!" in reference to our taking out two of their women and their attempt to even the score by dislocating Elyssa's rib. Now, I know that this comment wasn't meant to imply that they would be gunning for our women or that anything underhanded was occurring. At the same time, it is NOT acceptable. And that is exactly what I told their sideline in no uncertain terms. It was not a funny thing to say considering the injuries that had occurred in this game. Completely unacceptable. One of their guys said something like "Are you serious?" which set me off a little more. I think I was just short of actually screaming at their sideline.

We've stumbled upon the B-Bracket Finals! If we win this game, we'll hold seed on Day 3 proving the genius of the ranking system! At least for the B bracket. Bashing Pinatas (the number one seed in A) didn't exactly fare as well...

As we enjoyed our victory, it appeared that none other than the Apple-Vodka toothbrushing fool Kazan was on the next team we were scheduled to play! For the B-Bracket Championship nonetheless! Their team attempted to finagle some post-chumpionship game of schtick or somesuch. Perhaps it was a half of ultimate and then carry the score over to schtick? I'm not sure. I didn't even feign interest. I just wanted to get home after the game. Schtick is a fantastic game for the first two days at Mars, and a horrible game for the third. Someone directed them to me and I said "I won't play, I'm not even remotely interested, but if you can get enough of my team to play, have at it!" Eventually, we agree to just play a game to 11.

Pickle Juice 11-4?
Well... uh... We won this one too. I'm not sure if it was really close or not, because I was running solely on Amp-fumes at this point, but we definitely won. I imagine some notable things happened before the moment I'm about to describe, but they don't really matter because this was priceless...

The aforementioned Kazan makes a ridiculous catch after which he waits until stall 5 and calls a time-out. Uh-Oh. TO = TO. We all know that! For some reason, Neil (seen making the bid in that picture) was not the marker after the catch. That honor fell to Josh Weisstuch. Another Kaimana teammate. In our little D huddle, we decided that we would eschew the crazy-zone option and just nut-up and play man. It was decided that we would go with the backhand trap-force and assume that their play call might involve a quick look downfield, but the goal would likely be to get the dump off. Getting on the same page in terms of expectations and a scripted reaction is always helpful. In that spirit I told Josh "You're not going to let him throw an around dump. I'm going to take away the upline cut. WE get the D. The disc isn't going downfield." Josh looks at me and mumbles something. I think it was an affirmative, but I can't recall and neither can he.

O gets set. D gets set.

Josh says "The disc is coming in on five, I'm going to piss on your face. 3, 2, 1, disc in."

From my perspective:
"Stalling 5." Kazan looks upfield briefly and then turns to the dump. "6." The dump starts cutting up the line, I get in his way and he starts making a classic backfield dump cut. "7." He's definitely open, but I'm tight enough that if it is a bad throw, I can get a D. "8." Kazan gets down to throw the flick. At the last instant, Josh gets his hand down and gets a point block. He then takes off to the endzone. Both defenders (previously the dump and the thrower) take a step or two toward me as a sprint to the disc. Now I *know* they're proper fucked. I pick the disc up and toss a flick into the endzone to provide Josh with a pair of good, old-fashioned bookends. There was no chance that disc was going to anyone else.

From Josh's perspective:
Stalling 5...6...7...8. "Wait, Dusty said I'm not supposed to let a flick dump off. Shit." Lunge for point block, run to the endzone and catch the disc.

From Kazan's perspective:
Wait... did Josh just tell me that he was going to piss on my face? Stalling 5. That ain't right. That's like the guy from last night. Did I tell you that story? I was walking near the trees and this guy was back there. He said "I'm going to piss on your face." 6. I responded that I didn't want him to do that. While he didn't seem pleased about my decision, he seemed to accept it. 7. Confusingly he then told me to "Tell all my friends." That didn't make any sense at all. Later that night I moseyed over and ran into my guys from Kaimana with the NYU booze crew. 8. That was a strange evening. Fuck. I have to throw this disc. Oh shit, Josh just pissed on my face. I better stop Dusty from throwing it to him. Oh shit, my teammate and I are both running to the disc. Fuck.

I can vouch for my perspective. I paraphrased what Josh told me he was thinking. As for Kazan... I figure that thought process seems about natural. I bet he'll correct me if I'm wrong. It also seems like the only thought process that would lead to him getting point blocked and scored on in that situation.

In any case, I do not recommend using that taunt against anyone you don't know because you're liable to get into a fight. I DO recommend asking Kazan about the guy hiding in the trees threatening to piss on people's faces. He tells it far better than I remember it through the haze.
More pics from the triumphant Final Game can be seen here (pics 103 and up). We did collect a strangely alluring trophy that now sits in my family's house (right next to the B Bracket Wildwood trophy from that time Jamie's knee cap spontaneously combusted).

In the words of Tom Pribicko "All in all, Mars was a great weekend. I mean... aside from the 3 games of ultimate I had to play every day." As for why that comment makes sense, well... There will be some post-Mars thoughts on exactly that topic at some point.
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Workout Total:
3 MORE games of ultimate