Chicago, Day 1, Part 2

So there we were, point diff screwing us...

Or rather, there we were, being screwed by our own point diff, something which we had total control over and knew could hurt us. Ah well, now we get to play familiar foes, the Medicine Men:

v Med Men, 13-8
Man, these guys still just bomb the disc, don't they? It was pretty close in the first half as we still seemed surprised by their non-standard throws. One of the differences from the past times that we had played them was that they were way more organized on defense. This included some sort of 2-3-2 zone that seemed to just let the O walk it up the field. Something must have been amiss there. On their O points, it still took us a while to adjust to their aggressive play, even though we knew what they would do coming in and we had just played against Tussin who bombed it all day too. I say that Med Men are always dangerous, but the flipside of it is that they could also lose every game by 10. The looks they take are just unbelievable. If they connect on them, you might well lose to them. If they don't, well, see the comment about "the flipside."

It was near the end of this game that I started feeling pretty out of it. I think it was the combination of not having my trusty Ultima Replenisher (d'oh!) as well as eating a bit too much food to compensate. Add that to a poach bid I made on a disc that just passed over my outstretched fingers for a goal and landed a bit awkwardly and I just needed to ask out of the game for the finish.

vs Sir Duke, 13-9
I sat out the first 3-4 D points in this one as I recovered a bit. It always amazes me how much better I can feel after just a slightly longer break than usual. most of the time this just means a point or two here or there, but in a 5-game day, an extended break is a huge help. Though the points would suggest otherwise, I think Med Men are a better team than the new Sir Duke (Though with the love I've got for Stevie Wonder, I might have to be a bigger fan of Duke). This team is similar in that they (Banyas in particular) launch the disc to the endzone over and over again. Again, as a handler defender, this is completely frustrating. I don't really get to do much of anything. As we adjusted to their particular style of "huck first ask questions later," we pulled away to end the day at 4-1.

One loss by one point and the best we can do is ninth? I'm guessing this is karmic retribution for Sockeye in 04's pool play. Fair enough. Now, can we never do this again?

As we gathered our stuff, we had a team vote about getting food first or showering first, and food won. I like food. Then again, I like showering, so whatever. We ended up at a Carraba's in the area, largely because the team has an inexplicable soft-spot for this chain. I don't really get it. The food ain't bad, but it's not really anything to write home about either.

Eventually, we were seated and it came time to make a critical decision. how many of us are having "Italian Sangria?" The answer was "Enough for three pitchers at my end of the table, the rest of you be damned." This, of course, made the dinner far more fun. Why we didn't stay for the FREE beer at the fields is beyond me, but as Pike goes, so goes I.

After getting lost on the way home due to an ill-attuned driver (not me, I was drinking!) and a hapless Navigator, we managed to get home in time to get about 8 hours of sleep before we had to get up at the same time as Saturday because we hadn't earned a first round bye. Fucking A.

There was Blokus to be had, but I never made it there. I showered and laid down on the bed only to be disturbed a number of times over the even due to a certain Dan's unbelievably Hall of Fame-worthy snoring performance. He got hit with a launched shirt at least a handful of times. I'll give the guy this, he's a creative snorer-- each snore is something new!
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Workout Total:
5 fucking games of ultimate