I think I just played at Fools Fest.
Yeah. Defininitively.
I can't remember how to make the right notes come out of a trumpet.
Bound to happen, but irritating nonetheless.
Chuck Norris is invulnerable to the money hammer when he chooses to roundhouse kick it in the face, but Pizza Boy and Mr Grimm trump a too unsleeveless-jersey team of Norrisisises.
The time before that, I remember being near a non-plastic beach.
The beach camping rocked w/ Mankind's stakes making the trip w/o him.
That Swiss guy and I each had a macadamia nut beer that was really quite tasty.
That Littauer was in a boot failing as drinking captain.
That didn't prevent him from earning the annual "I smoked my brakes on the way down Kauai" title.
But he didn't make a hitchiker get out of the car for fear of vomiting.
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The new club season has started now.
Even without Evel Kevbofrisbee at Fools Fest.
First round of tryouts were last weekend at Edgely ballfields.
One day, ~60-70 players, circuits of drills, fitness tests and short scrimmages.
There are so many changes for this upcoming season that I don't rightly know where to start.
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Delta Force had strong and weak forces. A lot of players I've notplayed with before from the Philly+general area. Good to show well enough (3-4, lost in quarters to Twisted Metal by one. 4 losses by a total of 6 points) not to embarrass the folks who have been to many Foolseses.
I was definitely hot and cold. My focus was not where it needed to be to consistently perform well. The body: Reluctantly capable. The mind: Foggy yet wired properly.
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Waffle House, Perkins, Cracker Barrel. Despite my love for Waffle House and that eating at Cracker Barrel makes me feel like xenophobia might be contagious, I choose Cracker Barrel. Perkins is like an off-brand Denny's with real bits of panth... baked goods. So it finishes last. Waffle House is Waffle House: The measuring stick of chain breakfast places. Tasty, but you know it isn't right. I can eat at the House before Fools Fest. Not before real ultimate. It is also an annual stop on the way to the Eagles@Skins game (This year should be thick with valid plot and rife with solid play), and a favorite post-Regionals quick stop post-los loss/win non-truck stop
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The mix of folks at the tryout was impressive. Definitely some ballers I've not met before (though some I met the week before). Some young guns hot to make names for themselves. And, of course, the same old faces from the area club scene's open&mixed teams. And there are more waiting in the wings. Some folks were caught off-guard by hemispheres of intensity some merely by degrees. All know that 2010 ain't no joke. That probably means it is only a matter of time before I get cut. I don't do well without jokes.
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Back to the beach, we lost in quarters to the team that lost in finals. We lost in pool play to the other team in finals. We lost in the power pool play to the team that won last year. We also couldn't find our green jerseys or our teammates for the team photos. For at least one of those I can vouch that the looking wasn't very intense. We did, however, win a consolation game on the beach against Freaks.
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This year is about internal focus and the calm of my soul. I've got to get back to my basics and focus on what I enjoy about this experience. My understanding of my self on the ultimate field is currently impoverished. The reasons for this vary widely enough as to be utterly irrelevant and uninteresting. To me. If not to you.
That is: I miss this.
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Time to reprogram. Summon Finkbot. Instruct him that model number 200 (previous model numbers: 63, 79, 3.) needs to be set to "End of Season" mode ahead of schedule. Nuclear stress-testing must commence prior to new assignment.
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Oh wait. That was me back in the day when I loved NWA. That music has a great thing, but that thing ain't me. I mean, the emotion is the thing that attracted me. That and the insane rhythms that bump the shit out of your world.
I was angry. So was the music.
Try this on for a better current impression of what I always wanted the music to be.
Tell me this doesn't fuel your fire.
Vinny Cult Hollander and I have been over this. You like the music you like. Just because I should like Rush doesn't mean I do like Rush. On the other hand, Rush kicks some ass.
I wish that my ex-girlfriend's biggest rock-star crush wrote about music more.
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Work turns wishes and dreams to reality.
Easy truths are easily forgotten.
Lessons learned twice hurt.
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I'll always be more Shane Falco than Steamin' Willie Beamen. (1, 2*)
Except in my head
phones.
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1 comment:
With a calm soul, forward. That way, the way.
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I like the sequence of Kazurnover swatting Eug swatting Butter. Pay it forward, boys.
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