Los v Pike

a pint of wine and the song cry

a bit of this a bit of that

a nother 

a mazing

web-slinging spider

man.

I believed in who I was

I knew no more than what I was.

I rocked I rolled

I chumped I fold.

There is this story to tell about a couple of teams

 tied together in a region which is no longer what it was.

Forget that VA-n-NC are tied at the hip

Forget that MD is the start of the confederacy...

That Mason-Dixon line is one thing but not another because

My Virginian father speaks these words:

"The south starts here, not there."

And yet that's all preamble to my frisbee ramble

 just setting the scene for a thing which can mean

 so many things to so many teams.

---

I killed myself for 2007.

I killed my self for 2007.

14-9?

Naw.... 9-14 bruh.

We were down.

We were dead.

I knew it and yet I fought on.

Check the tape.

I was still making errors,

 trying to throw Callahans, 

 trying to gift goals.

But that story has been told in words and pictures and videos.

Check this blog or that... I tell you what I told you:  

This is unbelievable, this is the dream, this is the thing that never happens.

There was heckling and winning and losing.

I was a part of team which had no business being at The Show

 but I didn't know that until after Waffle House.

I learned that.

On the beach-adjacent fields.

Those punks were scared.

Those punks on my team were scared 

AFTER THEY WON 16-15 DOWN 9-14!

They didn't know then.

But they were children.

They had never been there before.

I assumed I'd never not-be there.

Ever.

Then again...

2006 (before)

2008 (after)

What right have I to assume?

What fight am I trying to resume?

Forward to after the pain of 2008's total fucking failure

To the drive inspired in others in 2009.

There were these kids.  

These magnificent kids.

So many still playing now,

(Some having kids now

 some done been had kids before.)

There they were... 

So many never-been-here-before-rookies.

You a rook until you go to the show,

Forever you don't know until you go.

---

2009 then.

2009...

Los on the rise.  

Los eating our lunch for two games.

Los earning their bid to the show

Los gonna dance with the non-gendered girl of our dreams.

Los gotta know.

Los gotta know.

Los gotta know what I know

Los gotta know what I know b/c how could they not?

What I know is in black and white in the rules.

What I know is nothing new and I spread it around to

 my team

 my friends

 my acquaintances

 my anyone who would talk to me.

I told my team that if we lose game two versus Los that we're dead.  We have no other games b/c the games are dead consolation as Los doesn't need to show us our nothing again.  We're chumps b/c we already lost twice.  I was ready to advocate losing to X-Rates just so that w Los would have to play in the game-to-go rather than waltz through a non-game.

Jeff George, to his everlasting credit, said that if we forfeited or lost on purpose that we would offend the ultimate gods and never live it down.

Truer words ain't never been spoke.  

To this day that ethos binds me to give full faith, effort and credit in every endeavor and fuck the rest let god(s or whatevs) sort it out.

Our team gathered at the corner of the endzone hoping that Los would lose so that we would have a chance to punch a ticket to dance w/ Sara on the beach.

Los wins (no kidding.  Them boys were filthy and terrified me.).

Los then does something I'll never forget... 

Los walks toward us and does the old rigmarole about "How soon can we start?"

BWAAAAAAH?????  

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

We can start yesterday.

5min? 10min? I do not recall what the agreed-upon time was.  

Irrelevant... we had been resurrected.

Why?  I don't know.

Why? I don't kno

Why? I don...

Wait... what? Why? Why why? Why? 

Why the fuck would they *choose* to play us???

My mind reels...

(I do not share this at the time)

My mind wanders...

Do they not know?

 (Impossible... the rules of regional tournaments, like the rules of ultimate are published in black and white.  I have studied the formats and the consequences for years.  STUDIED.  I could tell you the underlying concepts behind tournament formats b/c I care so much.  I read the ultimate rules every week I had a tournament.  I read the formats manual every week I could b/c there was no analogous manual for any other sport.  I love reading instructions, looking for loopholes, trying to grasp logic[s] and the like.  I love that it is published.  This is why I'm here!  Open source sport!)

No.  They cannot not know.  

I've spent the previous week specifically looking at the formats.  I've spent the previous nine years studying up on ultimate's rules and formats.  Impossible that they do not know.  Impossible.

This conversation came up on the sidelines in preceding years (04?) Pike talked about it as we watched teams battle it out.  We talked specifically about how much better it would be to face LCN in the 75th game of the weekend than in the first.  Potomac had some great player suffer a wild broken bone injury on Sunday?  Or was it VAULT?  Point remains that we talked about it *years* before 2009.  I may have even referenced the Format Manual to the derision of my teammates.

So... why THE FUCK TO THEY WANT TO PLAY THIS GAME WHEN THEY CAN PUNCH THEIR TICKET W/O PLAYING????

My mind wanders as I try to warm up.

I don't warm up.

I'm too distracted.

I'm 100% certain that Pike will lose to Los in the game-to-go that Los chose to play in 2009.

 My team is ridiculously confident.  

 I have no fucking clue why.

 I look around and I see the same chumps who lost to Los twice already in one weekend.

 I look around and I see so few players I trust with the task.  I see chumps.  Chumps Chumps.

 I don't tell my team this, which makes me conflicted as I am generally very open w/ my team.

I think and think the same words over and over...

"WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY PLAYING THIS GAME???"

...

...

It is beyond me.

I've talked to players on my team and off.  

They all either knew the rule or don't know any damn rules at all.

WHY THE FUCK IS LOS **CHOOSING** TO PLAY THIS GAME??

...

And then then my answer, right or wrong, slaps me in the motherfucking face....

"They are choosing to play this game for revenge.  

"They are choosing to play this game to snuff PIKE out forever.

"They are choosing to play this game b/c they want to make a point.

"They are choosing to play this game b/c they want to stunt on us."

Fuck that bullshit.  

You're choosing to play against us b/c you think we're chumps??

Only I am allowed to think my team is full of chumps.

What the fuck kind of historical headgames are you trying to win?

You want headgames, motherfucker?  Fuck you.  Fuck you and fuck you and fuck you.

I finally feel the fury my teammates (who, as they've told me since then, were sure we would win this game... I was NOT on board with that.  I was, for the first time in my life, certain we would lose this game.  I needed to stir it up b.c I didn't know my team had that unshakable belief.  I fn told them this game wouldn't happen.  Why TF would they think we would win a game that wouldn't happen???) feel.

I finally realize that, beyond all reason, we have a chance.

I wasn't sure why we were given a chance

 (at first).

Now (at that moment back when)?

I am certain that the reason we have a chance to qualify for nationals is b/c our opponents choose to disrespect us.  If they respected us.... If they feared us...  they would never ever ever play this game.

So... FUCK LOS FOR THEIR DISRESPECT.

(again... as I thought back then)

The words I shared w/ O-line before the game?  

I asked them to tell us the ways they failed us.

We shared our workout failures,

Our mental hangups

Our lapses.

I admitted that I hadn't trained to win this year

 (which meant I trained to lose).

We all dumped those failures into the huddle. 

We asked that our teammates hold us up and back us up in spite of our flaws.

I told my O-Line teammates that there is nothing to do which can change the past.

 (The Past Is Dead)

The only the thing we can do is give our all now.

Whatever we have... 

We give now.

Whomever we are...

We show it now.

Whatever we think...

We can rectify it now.

I still, to this day (in my current brain), do not know why Los chose to play that game.

I've never had the courage to bring it up w/ the folks from Los I've seen since.

I'm afraid that they'll try to fight me.

I've read their words and heard things relayed to me.

I was at a beach house for the 2017 Beth Coltman Memorial.

 (I slept outside on the porch)

I was watching some AUDL on Saturday night w/ some folks (DC v NC).

I casually asked where these dudes were from (NC).

I asked the standard questions of who they play for and the like.

My man who engaged says "Toro."

I don't know what the fuck a Toro is.

I delve

And the story is that some of their men are from Los.

I feel The Fear.

I call Jeff George over b/c I'm literally afraid that a fight will break out

 (in part b/c I'm smacked and drunk and all else... and ascribe my worst impulses to the other folks in the room)

I tell JG that he should be ready, these men are from Los.

No fight happened that night.

I went on drinking and yelling about billiards.

NC beat DC in a fun AUDL game.

I never wanted to steal anything from Los.

I respected Los.

I feared Los.

I was shocked when they chose to play us.

I was offended when they chose to play us.

I used that nothing-fuel to do whatever I could to destroy them.

I not only assisted Pike's 2010 suicide,

I assisted Los's disappearance.

I never wanted either to pass past the realm of the real.

I loved them both.

I was nothing then,

I am nothing now.

I know now that what we love we lose.

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Nationals 2015 Day 1 (morning couch edition)

This is the first year since 2011 that I won't be at Nationals watching as much Scandal as is reasonable.

2010 was the last year I played at Nationals. In fact, starting in 2000, I have attended:

6 Nationals as a player (2003, 04, 05, 07, 09, 10)
3 Nationals as a fan (2012, 13, 14)
1 Nationals (2000) as a volunteer

10 of 15 Club Nationals.

My record as a fan of Scandal (2 titles, 1 semis loss) is waaaaay better than my record as a player for Pike and PoNY (1 semis loss 04, 1 quarters loss 05, 1 prequarters loss, the rest in the ye olde shit-box, as we used to call it back in the day under the old power-pool format).

Point is, it feels weird to be not-traveling to Frisco, TX this year. It also feels quite sad to know that whatever happens to Scandal (the only team of any sport in the world of whom I am an actual fan) in this go-round that I will not ever ever ever get to see it. The most important tournament of the year, the highest level of tournament play in the world, and the only team I truly care for exist in a black box for four days in 2015.  2015 a year in which over 90% of the players in attendance brought a video camera along.  So, I'll have to rely on the coverage provided by the ultimate world.

Then again, I've not seen more than a few games of top-16 (give or take) club ultimate this season. I coached a classic flight team in 2015 (and will be coaching them again in 2016) and as a result, I was at tournaments with my team on weekends. At those tournaments, we played a total of one team which made it to nationals: Patrol. More than this, the players on my team while at those tournaments had little to no opportunity to see top-level club ultimate. Mind you, my team was in no small part comprised of AUDL and MLU players who played alongside players from Truck Stop (the undisputed regional power at this point) during those seasons.

Since that season ended, the players not on Truck Stop have been quarantined from the players on Truck Stop. And Temper. And, for most of the season, Patrol As a result, the players, teams, coaches, et cetera at the level just below that are hard-pressed to know anything about the teams or players outside of their region. This lack of interaction between levels is a concern not only for the players as players, but the cultivation of players as eventual fans and spectators.

So, as a result of the journey I've taken this season (MLU work, coaching club, not traveling to watch Scandal) I've never really seen the top tier club teams of any level play at all over 2015. I will be an uninformed yet knowledgeable observer subject to the whims of the programmers that be. This is a state I'm accustomed to for NFL, UEFA, NBA, and more... but never really for ultimate. I've always been present at the site wearing one dapper hat or another.

This year? I'll be looking for tweets while watching games. I don't wear hats indoors.  I'll be navigating the real world's intrusion into the best 4 days of ultimate in the ultimate world. I wonder how I'll hold up?

Read More......

"...3[0] Years Old..."

What was it that happened here?

And how does it all dream away?

I signed my 7 year contract in 2003 when I was 22. A developmental project at the time, Pike would have to invest in me to pay off on the field. The team just came off their first nationals trip, and a large portion of the Pittsburgh players determined that the commute was worth making the show, but only for a limited engagement. There was a need for youth. Or there was no choice. I don't know. I wasn't on Pike at the time. Enter the first Pike rookie recruiting class:

Bailey Russel, Ryan Todd, Harrison Treegoob, Ian McClellan, Ben Kleaveland, Me, Chris Klitgord, Ken Taga and Matt Dufort.

Also new to the team that season were NY refugees Jude, J and Dave.

In 2002 when I graduated from college, I was convinced that I would never play ultimate again. I'm short, not that fast, don't jump that high and managed to get out of college ultimate without knowing anything about club ultimate. I had never considered it aside from late night fever dreams. I had two surgically repaired knees by the time I got to Pike. Why would they need a guy like that?

My fears were confirmed at the very first tryout. In Buccleuch Park in early March, I played my first scrimmage/tryout/practice with Pike. On approximately the first point I played, I was feeling pretty good. I felt like I was open, but timing poorly. Then I get the cut, a good 30 yard gainer. The pass comes. Nice. As I get ready to catch it, I realize that the disc is not the item with the most velocity in my vicinity. It is instead some nutfucker laying out over my shoulder at the disc. Of course, he got the block by about 2 feet. Feet, coincidentally, are the only parts of his body that I could have grabbed if I so chose during that point. He landed in a huge ice-covered pool of muddy water with the disc caught-blocked in one hand, already scrambling to his feet to throw a 5 yard pass to someone so that he could sprint to the endzone and catch the goal.

Bookended. By Dono.
The next time that would happen would be 6 years later at PADA Mosh when he caught a Callahan on me. At least that time I didn't have to endure the extra taunting passes.

I kept with it. Every week I was there working with the team. I needed a ride when my car stopped working. I got one. I went to the first club tourney of my career in Delaware. We won. Taga got hurt. Heckman was a cutter(!). Trey complimented me on my deep throws. Someone asked me if I liked playing O or D-- I didn't know there was a difference. I said D. I said it because I couldn't grasp the offense or run the plays. Funny. Since then I've realized that only the D team knows plays and runs an offense. The O is just the penthouse of ultimate. Make sure you're open somewhere on the field and eventually someone will throw you the disc. Then throw it to some open space on the field and one of your teammates will catch it.

Eventually the email came that I was more than welcome to a bottom-of-the-roster spot. I lept at it. I rode the pine all the way through Nationals. I mean, I played on every day of (Almost?) every tournament that season, but that's peanuts compared to what "The Fuck" gained in experience that season. On the other hand, each point was one more than I ever expected to play. Each point was a befuddling gift.

Each point in practice, however, was a torture fest. Each drill. Each skill. I never knew that people were this good at ultimate. I never knew there was so much to know. I never knew that those crazy throws I had seen were far from the craziest throws each player had. Like watching Iverson outside of a game versus inside of a game. Fortunately, I could at very least catch consistently and learn.

The the offseason. Such work to do with a Nationals jersey to wear and hate while doing it. That first jersey has all the hate in it. I wore that jersey from every workout from November to November. In the gym I could hear the spirally design mocking me. Telling me that I was nothing but an accessory to Pike, the shit-box team. I could see the skyblue arms pumping at the track.

In 2004, nothing but roster gains, really. The new players were limited to Eugene Yum, Dan Chirlin, Joel Wooten, Geoff Buhl, Nic Darling and Danny Clark. As I look at that roster now, I'm amazed that they let me practice with them, let alone be on the team. All my workouts, all my training and I actually moved *down* on the depth chart.

The only things I truly remember about 2004 are my memories from Nationals. Upset the Sock, win the single biggest point (difference btw 1st in the power pool and last in the bottom pool) on a Judeflick special, beat the Condors in quarters and then there was that whole epic semis battle with the redfish. Bailey and Danny fighting it out for the title of "Unanswerable Question". The beach and condos that night were... some of the best times of my life. Unashamed. I felt clean. The world opening up for me in some way.

The jersey from that year is all joy. That team was a blast to play with and on. We played for keeps, but were just weird. No one on that team did anything by the book, but there was a framework where all these players could express their connection of skills on the field. Right, there was CRABFED THUGS and the 12 plays that we could call from that, but the plays never worked. Except for "Fuck you" which was Zero.

2005 came. Some roster tweaks. Add Baldwin, Kieffer, EvelKeven. Another year, another trip through Midatlantic Regionals after months of just winning games and tournaments. Crazy shit always happens at MA Regionals. It just does.

Nationals was full of anticipation and disappointment. JT's catch is the most memorable thing from what will go down as the most talented team the majority of that team has ever been on. Jam killed us that year. Just killed us. And Danny Clark hurting himself trying for a Callahan in a tight game with Ring at Chesapeake. That was a spectacular freak injury.

The Pike diaspora started during the season. Our captains moved to the west coast. Some folks moved north to NYC and Boston. Mainstays retired. And so on. We knew it was over while it was happening. We were powerless to do anything to slow it.

The offseason brought all kinds of madness. A new offensive framework. An absorption of Philly Ultimate. A whole slew of new players. New captains. New... everything. Except the jerseys. They remained ugly. Evel went back south. Which was expected. I mean, he lived there. There was a need for youth. Or there was no choice...

A whole new group bound together by Pike. This time, it was the loss that bound us. That terrible loss in a 14-team format. That one turn I threw all weekend. That 2 point terrible loss. That moment against Purifico on the field. That inability to stand after the weekend. That drive back. My brother.

My first club season with a no-nationals offseason. Light that fire, burn it bright. Make your teammates see the light. That was the birth of ultimatejournal. I put everything I had into my team in 2007.

In every drill, in every workout, on every single step I took that year, I was focused on just that step. I couldn't see tomorrow because today was too important. There weren't enough hours to put into ultimate in a day. I could not get enough of thinking and doing and being about ultimate. (286 posts? Are you kidding me?)

I remember the slalom drills. I remember taunting my teammates in practice. I remember what I was thinking when I was running in the rain. I remember typing pages of emails per day. I remember training morning and evening. I remember eating with only winning in mind. I remember individual plays and points from the season. I remember debating strategy on and off and all over the place for the O and D teams and watching the D team develop a killer instinct step by step.

I remember being on the sideline during the game-to-go more than I remember being on the field. I remember looking one by one into my teammates eyes and making them believe. It was like Los wasn't on the field after 14-9. It was like they didn't exist any longer. Pike was just running around making plays.

I remember my leg seizing up against Wilmington in Game 2. I remember getting laid out into in Game 1.

At Nationals I found out the truth. My team sucked. We were weak physically and mentally. We were scared. We were small. I gave every bit of everything I had for the first 6 games. I played well, I played hard. I threw goals and gave nothing for free on defense. I got a block or two, but that wasn't why I was there. I did get stalled against Truckstop. That was funny. Sometimes Sean just confuses me. I would wager he'd say the same, and the reverse.

My teammates needed to have life breathed into them every game. They did not appreciate the air on their own. They had already figured out that we should lose these games. I mean, The Farmer wasn't afraid and played crazy good. A couple other folks did too, but the Nationals rookies? Boo.

I remember Nationals for the time well spent with Dan "Spike" Yi, Squigglio, Baby Sapp and Lamb Juice. That was simply an epic vacation.

I did a terrible thing by not playing in my last game at Nationals that year. I made my reputation that season by being someone who would play through any and everything. At that moment I couldn't (wouldn't?). But just because it was terrible doesn't make it representative of an inaccurate feeling. I felt that they had already quit on me, so fuck them. I didn't want to put my heart on the line again for them to have it broken.

My body I agreed to break for you. Not my heart.

The season ended. Everyone left again. Or there was a need for youth. The same teammates I had given myself to all season were out the door. Some retired for real. Some got lives in other places. Some stabbed Pike in the head to play for Truckstop and Boston.

That jersey means little to me, but eventually recalls regionals. Which is a good memory. It doesn't mean much because I was embarrassed to wear it for a long time. I felt we had done terribly at The Show and that there was no cause for celebration.

New recruiting class it is: Aman, Nicuatrongpauco, Leon, Ross, Glenn, Frenchy, Jake Rainwater, Nick "Ocho" Malinowski, Bo, Tom Quane, Snuggles, Will Reed, Kyle, Ryan Thompson, Ariel, Tom Quane. The return of Ellis. We weren't a team until Furniture City. I told them they all were required to spike the disc all weekend. We were in Carolina. Dem Southern Boys got perfectly riled up. Los stomped us. Snuggles repeated all of True Lies. Gutter vomited on himself in the Sunday warmups. Our loss to Forge at Regionals was the genesis of the next season. That and keeping the roster together.

This next time around in 2009, we ran tryouts like everyone was trying out, but no one wanted to play with us. By the time the first couple of tryouts were done, there weren't really any cuts to be made. A few new players stepped up: Shaun Krieger, Grin, Kunsa, Dave Baer, CJ, Kinsey. We perfected a way of ultimate. Very basic offensive structure which allows players to... play. Increase the number of touches per player per point by a little bit (specifically those players who do not necessarily naturally dominate the disc) and the team will work more as a unit. Never look off an open teammate who can see the field better than you. Take advantage of your advantage when you have it and expect your other teammates to do the same while you all expect to fill for each other within said simple offensive framework. Work to make the fundamental options all happen within 6 seconds, and then the thrower still has 2 seconds to break the field down. (4 if the opposing team counts slowly)

The field shifts, you see. You don't always want to attack the same part of the field. Where is the space? If there is no dump, do you need one? Or do you just want to recognize that the space behind you is the major cutting lane? If their are 4 dumps, is the cue that the offense is going to break down and that one should run through? Or that one of the 2 cutters is going to get open in all that beautiful wide open space in front of the disc? And then the first two dumps should cut up line into the space as the thrower starts to not throw it to the first two cuts. Don't wait for him, kick-start the offense with motion. Unless you think waiting will give you an advantage. Or if one of those other 4 dumps is a better option to cut upline simply in order to give the defense a choice: Do you want to stop the upline on this player or do you want to stop the bomb to this player? If your players play the full field (It isn't that big, we get subs, it can be more about resting appropriately and attacking when active than enduring to fight at the end of the day.)

"Heuristic not algorithmic"

This game is a game of a balance. Shift and break. Once you've fallen over, you can get up and regain it, but you're liable to get kicked in the teeth trying.

I remember thinking Heckman was weak at Sectionals in 07. In 09 I learned who he was. I'm not sure he knew then either, to be fair. We both know too much now.

Regionals was a classic Midatlantic weekend. Here's the inside scoop: Los fucked up and lost to XRATES at sectionals to pair us against each other early. Which made for a long weekend for XRATES of beating Forge in tight games and losing to Pike. And a long year of Los wondering about how they could be the only team to beat Pike at Regionals and not go to Nationals.

Well, the real inside scoop is that I knew the rule. I looked it up on Saturday. I told my team. I talked to people on other teams. When we played Los on Sunday morning, I told my team that we had to win this game or we were out. Los crushed us Sunday morning. We debated briefly losing to XRATES on purpose so that Los would have to play a game to qualify if they lost the game to Ring. Good thing we didn't. As JG said, "The Ultimate Gods would frown upon that." We watched the end of their game from near one of the endzones. When the game was over, I told my team to wait before they left the fields to find out if we had a game. Los then, as they were breaking their handshake line, said that they had one more game. I told my team to start warming up. The rest was covered ad nauseum.

Then after we built that chemistry, and bonded through near-failure and heaps of criticism and and all sorts of emotions, everyone on the team went back to college. Even the Rutgers kids were too far away to come to practice. We had under 14 at practice between regionals and nationals.

At least no fear was shown at Nationals 09. Revolver beat on us severely (our D-team outscored our O-Team in that game, and we lost by ~10), but all of the other games were reasonably strong performances by Pike. We went big and went home. But we didn't go small. Leadership (aka me) should have subbed more aggressively. Some guys tried to play too too big on offense too often.

Pike Polo Shirts are perfect attire for the Sarasota heat&beach.

The offseason started two weeks later at PADA Fall League Finals. After a great weekend at PADA Mosh, of course. Johnny Pivotfoot and the Ten Stallcounts love MOSH.

The offseason was going to be a long process non-off-season of getting everyone together to form one team in Philly. After many months of too much caring, we arrived at a decision, tryouts started the weekend after Fools Fest in April and finished with Philadelphia Southpaw coached by Jeff Snader. The second Philly Ultimate consolidation is complete. New faces. New Team. New Lessons to learn. Except they're the same old lessons we learned last time.

I want Southpaw to do well. I played a part in creating it, so I wish it well while moving on. My job was to make it happen. I'm disappointed I don't get to play in the series with those guys, but so it goes.

"Windows 3.11 vs iPad."

Those Southpaw tryouts killed me for the week. I couldn't do workouts. I couldn't lift. At some point, I cried when I knelt to tie my shoe. My muscles weren't sore. My mind was fresh. My knees and my feet...

My heart I agreed to break for you, but not my body. Not my body.

I was dull every weekend at tryouts worried about how the team was going. I was dull from not having touched a disc all week or sprinted or jumped or played or anything. I was dull from being unable to do what my body needed to compete, skill-wise, speed-wise.

It got to me. I started to believe I was terrible at the game. I had this need to prove myself. I don't play to prove myself anymore. That was 2007. I proved it. I'm better today than I was then. But I play for completely different reasons these seasons.

I got cut.

I believe it was the right decision for everyone involved. But I do not believe everyone knew that then, nor does everyone know that now. In fact, I heard a rumor on my thirtieh birthday that I quit. Or that I was trying to start a new team. Naw. I just got cut. I didn't play well in tryouts. With that came the opportunity to try out for PoNY. Which has been great. Travel is all mass-transit-possible and reasonably simple. Practices are high-level, high-intensity, high-throwing reps. All in the Shadow of The Power Broker out on Randall's Island. Complexity will come as the season develops.

I played at Cazenovia with them. Went through a couple weekends of practice/tryouts and played at Boston with them. It was all mentally a great trip. Boston was physically an... impossible trip. Over 10 hours at the fields spread out over 4 games. My knees can't keep up. My feet can't not hurt. My mind and my strength are there. The flesh is willing but the joints are weak.

Then a trip with the Younguns to Mars. I played more like 1.5-2 games per day spread over 5 hours. Every morning and every day? No pain.

My initial conclusions were correct. My body is saying no to competitive tournaments. Which is fine. Tourneys were always completely and utterly insane. Which was why I liked them so much.

I feel I still have a lot to offer on and off the field, irrespective of my participation in 3 tournaments per season. I told the PoNY Cabal/Junta/TryoutDecisionmakers/EC/Whatever. Fortunately, PoNY agreed to the tune of a 1-year non-series contract.

I'm excited to be a part of this team.

---

...with bad knees and no title."

-LeBron James, describing how he didn't want to end up.
I would have signed with the Heat too. That will be a fun team to play on.

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Further Thoughts on the Past to Remember to Forget

History Alert:

Teams in semis from 01-09: Chain, Revolver, Ironside/Boston/DoG, Sockeye, Jam, Bravo, GOAT, Furious, Pike, Condors, Ring.

In fact, you can use that same list back to 1999.
In 98 the WSL All-Stars last crashed semis for NYC, and Sub-Zero from Minneapolis-St. Paul.
In 96, Chicago Z.
95 adds Cojones&Double Happiness.
Pre-95=different regions and the limit of my interest.
95-09=15 years.
60 semis spots.
15 [or 16/17, depending on your opinion of Boston] teams.

13+1 ultimate communities:
Atlanta, Bay Area (SF), Boston, Chicago, Denver, Minnesota, NJ+Philly, North Carolina, NYC, Santa Barbara, Seattle, Toronto, Vancouver.

NJ+Philly is two distinct ultimate communities that haven't grasped that they can't exist without each other. It is separate parts of the same community which refuse to resolve their differences for a brighter day. MCUDL A-League should be tapped into PADA. Mercer Draft should e separate from PADA draft. There is no "core/clique/corporate" option in Philly. Which is stupid from one angle and genius from another angle. Stupid from the high-levevl club development angle, genius from the fun and grassroots angles.

Anyway, another loosely edited post in the books.

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Graceland

"She said losing love

is like a window in your heart..."

Just another injury, right?
Just another disfigured digit,
just another passing pain.
Just another way to remember the way.

"Adjust your expectations when time dilates and infinity creeps in all around", the muse intones. "Don't lose that moment."

Life is just a moment in time.

More Aristodemus than Leonidas.
More Obi-Wan than Skywalker.
More Odysseus than Achilles.
More Hagen than Corleone.
More Red than Andy.

More futbol than football.
More basketball than rugby.
More around than through.

More student than disciple.
More spades than poker.
More teacher than killer.

More fox than hound.

All knew there would be a division. None knew where it would be drawn. Just that it would be drawn. And then a bifurcation. Or at least that's what the plan says.

Plans always evolve.

We were sent for.

12 of 27 players from Pike 2009 remain in the mix for the new Philly Open team. Some of those 12 will return shortly from college/other countries/whatever by Cazenovia. Some of those 12 would make any team anywhere. Some will likely get cut. Some will be better this season than they were last season. Some of them I'm actually not sure what they're up to. That is to say, they weren't at the last tryout I was at.

09Pikes out the mix for reasons varying from retirement to moving, injury, playing coed, getting cut etc, include: Aman, Nicuatrongpauco, Kuger, Justin Illuzi, Rutgers aka "Glenn&Frenchy", Jeff George, CJ Kozarski, Kinsey, TC, Dono, Raph, Nick Malinowski and me.

There are some oldpikes competing for spots on this team as well, including Brandon Silverman (06-07), Eddie Peters (07) Trey Katzenbach (02-07), Brian Lo (01-07) and Matt Schmucker (06-07).

But fo sho sho, this team is no longer Pike. There is a naming committee, and that ain't on the list.

It was a good 8-year run from 02-09 (or did Pike start in 01?). 6 nationals appearances, 2 quarters, 1 semis. Not bad for a region with inconsistent collegiate programs.

I was happy to spend 7 years of club with Pike, the last two as a co-captain with Timmy. Not one of them was at all like any of the others. I was a young O-cutter for 3 years who rarely played, a no-turnover O-handler for 1 who played every O point, a higher risk starting D-handler for 1, a higher-risk starting O-handler for 1, and then in 2009 a starting Handler/Cutter on O whose risk&role depended upon who was else on the field, or where we were on the field.

Crises precipitate change

Not sure where this season will take me, but it won't be with the new Philly Open team. Not sure if this season will be a club season, or a fun-tourney tour, but it will involve far more ultimate than the post-Kaimana2011 season will.

Soon, I will RTS.

"...everybody sees you're blown apart
everybody feels the wind blow."

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Hot

That is the first thing I remember


It is not, however, the first thing [I] remember after all the things [I]'ve forgotten.

[Warning: This is classic blogposting with little editing or care for craft. Deal.]

This year was hot and humid beyond what I (or Pike, for that matter) was prepared for. That is, combine 5-10 outbreaks of swineflu, hantavirus, SARS, tetanus-induced lockjaw, death and many other psychosomatic and real illness with practicing in 40 degree weather with sideways rain for three post-regionals weeks with attendance in the preteen region as well as the whole "16 Nationals Virgins" and, well, you go 1-6 on the weekend. What a coincidence. 16 was our seed. Yay seeding folks. You accurately seeded the team which couldn't find a game all season.

Not that I'm saying we deserved to play against better teams ('deserves' is a highly loaded word full of connotation and all of that shit), but if you take a sample comparison between SoL and Pike it will be apparent that SoL was able to play the following nationals teams prior to regionals:

GOAT x3, Bodhi x2, Ironside, Truckstop, Machine, Revolver, Pike

Compare to the zero nationals teams that Pike was able to play despite both teams going to the same tournaments and finishing the same at Regionals in 2008.

---
The thing I am proudest of Pike for is never once playing scared at Nationals 2009.
Stupidly, braindead, selfishly, and many more colorful descriptors can be used, but not one of them is 'scared'. This is more than I can say for the 2007 team. The 2007 team, on the other hand, wasn't dumb. I'm not sure which team wins here. But I'm losing, I'm sure of it.
---

Day one was a trip. We were up on GOAT at 4-3 in the first game, we gave up half 5-8. We pulled to within 7-9 and 11-13 before giving up the ghost at 12-15.
The last time I saw Revolver, we were down 2-4 on our way to 5-15. I think the D outscored the O in this one.
Then, finally, a shot at Truckstop, where we went up 2-1 by breaking on the second D point, then fell behind 4-7. The O scored, and the D broke us back to 7-7 AND had a chance to score to take half, but didn't. I remember 8-10. But the rest is foggy.

We didn't exactly roll over against revolver, but it wasn't good. GOAT and Truck definitely had more cohesive teams than Pike, but hell... they've been to nationals recently and kept rosters intact relative to Pike's unusual "keep most of the roster in odd years and jettison 16-17 players in even years" schedule used since 06.

---
While there were no Waffle House early-AM ho-train shenanigans (despite the presence of Dan Yi), Glen Poole did bite the top off of a bottle.
---

The drive up/down from TPA to Sarasota is a good time at Sunset. Having made the drive nearly every year I've been at Nationals on Thursday night, I have no idea what people do on Thursday nights. Stupid/awesome girlfriends.

The way folks in FLA drive is decidedly different than in the MidAtlantic (and don't get me started on those fuckers in the midwest who make you get pulled over for going 70 in a 65 because EVERYONE drives 69. Losers with no cojones. Seriously, you don't think you can pick up the pace a little bit? Even just so that when I'm trying to drive fast you can clear the passing lane so that I avoid the Jersey Weave?

The key thing seems to be that on the highway, you can drive ~83 or so, without even thinking about cops. If you go over that, you're asking to get pulled over. On the city streets, all you need to do is accelerate out of the turns/redlights and get into the open space created by the lights/turns in the first place. Then you can drive just a bit faster than the rest w/o risking a ticket or running into that group of cars ahead of you.

---
Day two started with Bodhi who broke us early to the tune of 0-3. Considering that, the 5-8 halftime deficit wasn't too shabby. Nor was the 11-15 final score. I like playing them, for the most part. Especially now that they've gotten the massive chip off of their collective shoulder and instead Just Play Hard (and in their case, very well). Maturity will do that.

The next game was against Streetgang. We scrapped the O/D lines and reverted back to the way we originally planned the subbing for the season. This was good. Streetgang seemed really surprised that we could play at all. This was good for us, as GOAT+Truck had seen us often enough over the years to know that we didn't suck, and Revolver simply didn't give the disc back after a turn... so their assessment of us was irrelevant.

Notching a victory pre-shitbox was good. It did us no good at all in terms of final finish, but it was a good Team-Level-Psyche kinda thing.

---
In a related story, I'm terrible at subcalling and hope/plan/expect not to ever have to do that again until I retire to coaching.
---

Overall, I had a solid though unspectacular weekend. I was responsible for very few turnovers (though I did have 2 drops in one point against GOAT, which was bizarre... but then again, there were 7 total drops in that point-- 4 for Pike and 3 for GOAT. One of the other Pike drops was on a throw that I threw, but that came back on a foul.) though I could have done a better job involving myself directly and obviously in the offense. I threw some goals, caught some goals. Made some good reads on what the D was doing against us and acted appropriately. I had at least one D, and while I got worked for a couple of deep scores here and there when I tried to, as Ellis said, "Be too unpredictable on D" overall, my defense was good.

---

Day Three matched us against Machine in the first round. That was fun. I think we went up a break early and may have taken half, but they rallied and made a run in the late second half to take the game. Ricky looks young and plays young enough to be in the right division. There was also no brick in my field bag.

The rematch against Streetgang was not good for our squad. Their offense was just as efficient on D as it was on O this time around. Our will was finally starting to fade a little bit, and while we didn't pack it in, we just... didn't have it in the tanks any longer.

The mental battle of playing these games is fascinating.

---
I then meant to get hammered in the beer garden, but not only could I not see any games I wanted to see from the garden, it turned out that my DD was drunk. Time to go watch some ultimate.

Seriously, there are some Masters guys I like to watch, but don't put the beer tent on their games. Put the damn beer tent on the field for Open semis. That is ridiculous. I am channeling my inner Toad here, but if we actually want this to be a spectator sport for the spectator/players who have just fought their hearts out in all of their crappy games, at least make it like a real arena. You know... beer while watching. Not "Hey, I'll be back after I go chug 4 glasses of beer because I have to go into the garden and can't come out with the beer... so... you know. I'll try to be back after a point or two."

Yeah. Those are healthy drinking habits. Thanks, UPA!
---

The event this year was really well run as always.
I do, however, wish that when they said "The massage folks will arrive at 8am each day" that it wasn't a lie.

The time I spent in the massage tent was the best/worst time of the weekend. I went over because of the myriad problems of 2 replaced ACLs, one of which never really healed fully due to a staph infection while in the hospital (blah blah blah) plus a somewhat unique throwing motion.

The fella there really worked some magic on me as I could not only walk evenly, but run without undue pain. The problem was that as he was working on various muscles in my right leg/hip, random other muscles would decide to cramp up, causing some combination of consternation/amusement on his part.

Such an overused body for me to fix up in this offseason.
Speaking of offseason, time to hit up PADA Mosh (w/ Johnny Pivot-Foot and the Ten Stall Counts) and Ultimax (w/ Barfight!) and make plans for traveling fun tournaments (Kaimana! Lei-Out?) without disrupting my offseason recovery plans.
---

You know, the more I think about ultimate, the more I realize that it is just a way to break down the body before it is on many levels just a decrepit piece of flesh-n-bone. Replace warring and battling with neighboring tribes with warring and battling with neighboring tribes. The body pays a price. The aches. The pains, the grassburns and stains.

What what else to do with this thing? Sit on the couch? Let it decay rather than use it up? Fuck that. A sedentary life is not a life fully lived. I will continue to call on my body to make sacrifices for a flimsy piece of pavement-worn/pristine plastic. Use it or lose it. And now, more than ever, losing it terrifies me.

Great. Now I've jinxed myself.

---
There were some sublimely hideous jerseys at nationals.
Just because you can print whatever you want doesn't mean that you should.
---
The team purchased a sweet pullover with an embroidered Pike crest, my number and my name on it.
That I don't recoil from my own name is a sign that the gift means something more to me.
---
Collected my pint glass. Hoo-ray!
These trinkets mean more to me than they should.
But I'm not trying to change that.
I'm sure it will change on its own with time
---

This season... was unique in a wonderful way.
I'm sorry to see it end, but I know
That they can't take it away
No they can't take that away
From PIKE.

That is to say,
To put it another way:
TEAM FIRST, bitches!

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What you know

is unknown
now/later.


There is far less luck than I knew there was.
Plays are far more useless, for one reason,
Offenses are far less, for another reason.

Players are players
Ringers are ringers
Ballers are ballers

Shooters gotta shoot.
Some shooters shoot
Better than others.

Leftys are still cheaters:
Just because they use the
Right side of their brains.

Heaven is still just like
A wise man once said it was
When unplaying the fool.

("It's all in the flip
Not at all in the cup!"
P-H-I, L-L-Y: Now what's up?

"This is what happens...
Do you see what happens,
When you [go cups v Pike?]")

Ultimate's a game for innovations:
New solutions to the same equations
Of discflight's patterned iterations.

Different ways of stressing
Of attacking and defensing
But all the same song sing:

"Give nothing +
Take everything =
Win anything."

The same song sung
Echo in every tongue
At eachnevery rung

Of competition
Of sport
Of game.

For money
For nothing
For allthesame.

Just another
Way tokeep
No score

And see
What there
Is to see.
----
Pike's ceiling is higher than it has been since 2005.
Pike's floor is just as low in 2009 as it was in 2006.
Pikes is ready to put the I back in Team First in 2009.

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Bellcracked

Managed to find a team for Bellcrack.

I'm not sure I helped them, on the weekend, but we lost in Quarters to Hooray.
Great. Now my undefeated Bell Crack record is in the toilet.

Then again, I'm pretty sure I was not a negative addition to the team.
I could always be wrong. Perhaps w/o me, they would have made finals.

As usual, every team I play with tells me that if Amy was there they'd be happier.
What does this say about me? Unclear, but there were a lot more serious teams at BellCrack than in years past. That is not to say better or worse, just more actual club coed teams.

----

From Deceptisomething to Deceptinothing.
or
"I forgot to remember we took a timeout. That timeout gave him the rest he needed to get his foot there."
And other thoughts that have gone through my head since I got footblocked.

If I wanted a shorter title:
"Drew Jones gets Ten FIDY'd."

----

League Games start this week.
Er, pre-season games do.

Then again, with this many (50, I think) teams, who knows what's what when we can't all possibly make the playoffs. There is a non-zero chance that I should read the Captain's Handbook which PADA has been kind enough to provide me. If I could only remember whe...

Oh yeah, my team is a well-(c/d)rafted group of miscreants. Off (and, I think) on the field. IF we can only figure out how to get our guys out of the way.


----

Light optional Pike practice Saturday morning was not terrible. The team with fewer drops in the drills had far more drops in the games.

Official full-on Pike tryout weekend next weekend.

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can you?

i can feel it starting.

even sitting here waiting for a plane to take me to the great midwest, i can feel it.

i can smell the august coming.
the long days of practice.
the interminable tournaments.

the rush.
the pressure.
amp it up amp it up,
we're gonna be rolling now, boys.

one last trip through the fun in the sand,
case of pbr in hand (i'm told) before the grass is all i know.
the grass and the pavement and the track and the stairs.
(these are the spaces that make other spaces possible
(these are the moments i give to get the moments i take
(this is where i am and where i'll still be for a while i see)

changes gotta change
and
shooters gotta shoot

i can feel it coming
a rumble brewing
in the distance

more than it was last time
more like it was once upon
challenge challenge
steel yourself for this
or let another grain of sand
slip slip slip
on on on
down down down
the drain.

the moments come faster now
the thoughts and the visions
waking early
pushing through the morning workout
powering through the afternoon workout
throwing throwing throwing
summer league
throwing throwing throwing

i will never miss my moment
i can feel it coming
i know what happens next
the end is not the journey
the path taken shows you more.

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"to take the body seriously

"is to admit one can suffer."

From the Tao Te Ching.

Seems relevant to training for ultimate somehow to me.

Then again, that has always been the beauty of reading this particular book. Almost a way to gain insight by using a different lens to view the same things you've thought about every day. This time around, it is ultimate.
---
In other news, the pike season is starting to take shape. A lot of new faces and old faces in new places. I am really excited about the way it is shaping up, but it is not at all what i would have predicted even as recently as a week ago, let alone when accepted the role of "captain" with Tim (who has since injured his knee and is fully expected to miss the entirety of the 08 campaign).

We've got vets, we've got youth, we've got serious untapped potential in both. We've got parts that fit together already, and we've got parts that should fit together once they get together on the field often enough. We've got decisions yet to make, and the team is not yet completely defined, but we're on the right path.

I can't wait for practice this weekend and the Boston Invite next weekend.

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pike pike pike

pike has begun.

2hr Open practice last weekend. Worked on really basic stuff, tired everyone out with some intensity. Got some basics for the season down. That we'll repeat.

It was a good showing. got the legs moving, didn't suck it up entirely as captain. Oh, and the hairy team beat the non-hairy team in the scrimmage. YAY HAIR! Samson rules, apparently.

This weekend, Pikes X and Y will attend the Beth Coltman Memorial this weekend. Apparently, this is a coed tournament with some open and women's teams thrown in.

I'm already getting excited in a whole new way for the season. Moving from ideas to actions to reactions to (and on and on). There is so much to work on and do... I'm very happy with being in this position. I will work to do it well. This team deserves it.

In the larger picture, there is so much to do with captaining pike that this blog is getting lazy. Stupid blog. Anyway, the blog is slow for now. Captaining is ever-so-much-more important. Workouts are still going strong, but there is far less time to type about it all.

I think dunkin donuts coffee tastes like burning. Open in case of emergency.

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Terminus, Quickly

What a trip.

6 guys.
Delays.
Cancellations.
Pickup makes 7.
Snow.
Anti-Ultimate wind.
Cold.
Florida is better at 500 than we are at ultimate.
Stop throwing a full field out the back of the endzone please.
One Gibson D to prevent our upwind score changes the game.
Notre Dame is athletic and fiery.
I've never seen so many inveterate cheaters as I did in the FL and ND zones in my life. If double teams are illegal... don't quadruple team.
Paideia = boys lose to men.
Another loss for us after.
No PBR Mile or All-Star game. Must shower and be indoors.

ONE STAR RANCH

Whirleyball.
4 out of the 6 we brought were at the bar until 1am or so.
2 out of the 6 we brought were at the bar until they kicked us out at 2.
Nowhere to go but to the hotel.
SPRING AHEAD????? YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!

Wafflehouse again, wooo!
Fields just in time.
Or not.
Few teammates made it on time.
We were assessed a point.
Two point loss to start the day.
Fun game though.
French Press Coffee. (Thanks, Pickle-People!)
Watch Amp lose.
Borrowed Ampers for the last game.
An exciting win.
Beautiful weather, finally.
Speed to the airport after lounging too long.
Sit in the airport after the flight is delayed.
Sit on the plane as we wait in line.
Sit on the plane.
Sit on the plane as we fly in a holding pattern.
Sit on the platform waiting for the train.
Sit on the train.
Sit on the platform waiting for the next train.
Sit on the train.
Walk.
Home.
Talk.
Bed.

Everyone who came to Terminus with Pike left a better player. You could see it over the weekend. Lots of touches in lots of wind. Some true moments of joy and beauty found in the game. Especially on D. This team was *ferocious* on D.

Thanks to the other 5: Dono, Tous, Jeff Ho, Trash, Pallever.
Thanks to the Pickup: Dave Schmidt (whose hand had stitches removed 2 weeks prior)
Thanks to the Late Add: Nick Ongpauco
Thanks to the Last-Round Sunday Amp Cavalry: Furf, A-Peters, Butter. (And anyone else I'm missing accidentally through the imperfect machinations of my memory)

Had a blast, plan to go back and hope for good weather just once in Atlanta when I'm there.

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Small-Sided Success

There I was... awake, but without a ride.

Something about Long Island, Hofstra and "Girls, Girls Girls." I hadn't made the trip with those idiots, but by the time I got back to my apartment, my ride was on his way to Long Island, and those were the words he and his traveling friend were shouting into the phone. I had been out until about 2 and realized that this phone conversation, at 5am, no matter what promises were made, would not result in me having a ride to pickup a mere 6 hours later.

I made my plan. I would get a couple further hours of sleep, cook breakfast, get ready and get on the path train by 11am. This way if the ride miraculously comes through, I can just get on the PATH train in the other direction, lose on 1.50 and get a ride. If the ride, as expected, falls through, then I'm well on my way to a normally timed arrival at pickup.

As I got up a couple of hours later, I was very pleased with my plan as I got to cooking a ham-n-cheddar omelet. Had an orange with it and then a great cup of french-pressed coffee. Yemen Mocha, if you must know. Excellent breakfast. now, as I watch sportscenter on mute with my tunes cranked to a rather high volume for 10:20am. At least I could imagine someone else would think of it as too high a volume.

Back to the coffee for a moment. My mom was nice enough to buy a little french press for me for christmas. It makes one cup at a time of the thickest, strongest coffee I could want. Well, at least thus far. It decreases the amount of actual coffee I drink and increases the quality of said coffee. Perfect.

Anyway, so I get on the train on time and all and get on the njtransit train and then walk to the fields. I then decide that I should sit down and have a lite second breakfast of another orange and some cashews. So I do. I then walk over to the usual meeting place and see that we've got low numbers. No worries, we can play mini. It is at his point that someone comments on thinking they saw me sitting on a bench earlier. Nope. Couldn't have been me having breakfast again.

So we set up for mini and play maybe 5 best out of 5 series. Maybe more. Lots of winning, some losing, some not losing. I love the way that players think in mini versus in ultimate. In mini, everyone is thinking "I'm open right now, all I have to do is catch the thrower's eye." In ultimate people lose track of that tremendous advantage throwers and receivers have and get bogged down into heavily structured offenses or the rote memorization of patterns without deviation. The patters provide the framework. The thing with mini is that it cuts down on the complexity of the pattern. From 14 players to track to 6 players to track. This helps you see the same situations over and over and over again from each of 6 different perspectives. Plus "sideline" as we were running hockey-style (or WWF style, as one player commented) subs on the fly.

Small sided games like mini and then boot* are so damn fun early in the season when you've got no actual weak links on the field. When you adhere to the first rule of mini, ie "No Chumps" you're inextricably bound for a good time. If, when I say "No Chumps" you think I might be talking to you... I am.

Yeah, the games can get goofy, but both mini and boot have self-limiting goofiness/chumpiness factors. In mini, you can lose at -2, so turnovers always count. In boot, you can be lazy but you can't be uncaring or unfocused, otherwise you get scored on immediately as the field changes direction. Even if you can't figure out the strategy, you can be effective by simply standing next to one set of cones playing only defense. Just don't do anything bad in boot, and you'll be good.

As we switched to boot later on, much to the delight of the primarily Jersey-based crowd, there were the classic opening blunders of people unsure of the strategy, but as we switched the teams up to get even rookies and vets to the game, it quickly became a quick-moving constantly evolving game. Including Walt's clinic on classic post-play in boot. You can't give him position or the game's over. My team tended to hoist early, bad shots near the goals, but we were running the spread O very nicely and crisply. We just needed to work for slightly better scoring opportunities on our man-advantage breaks, which are the whole point of the game.

Interestingly, I find mini and boot to mirror PoNY and Pike's strengths and weaknesses rather eerily. In mini, there is a premium placed on beating your man when it is your turn. When you're the guy in the open space, find a place to be open, and the thrower will deliver the pass. Hammer, blade, huck, under, break, whatever. Sure, keep it moving, but those higher skill-level throws are often the correct decision right away. Focus on snapping your throws, no matter the flight path, into a small space versus hard man D. Catching all of those throws confidently. Work on making eye contact and realizing that every 6 inches of advantage over a defender is a potential completion if the receiver can catch with both hands and consistently read the disc soon after the thrower releases it. The pressure to make higher skill-level throws and completions is always there. They aren't impossible throws by any stretch. The field's not huge, so you don't have to rip the disc. It isn't crowded, so there are few poach D's (though some opportunities present themselves). But you do have to beat your man and make good throws under pressure.

In boot, there is so much space and you can always change directions to get a better look or a different advantage. You don't have to beat your man so much as you have to out-think your man. Difficult throws aren't as important as accurate, basic throws with a high level of field awareness. If I can always attack in two directions, and the defender must chose one way or the other to defend me, then i always have an advantage in another direction than the one I'm attacking. If we've got a 3 on 3 here and they're all playing good d, if we sprint to the other set of cones we'll have a 3 or 4 on 1. If I position myself well, when I catch this bailout pass, I can start a 2 on 1 in the other direction. Just run the floor! That's been Pike's strength for a while. Yeah, we had some sick receivers and individual talents, but using their individual strengths as the key variations from our basic-level structured offense was what carried that team to a new level. Being aware enough as players on O to change the angle of a attack seemingly on a dime as a group of 7 players was the key to their success.

Yeah, the offense wasn't "Huck into coverage" but when certain players are only covered by one guy going deep, there is no coverage.

Just like with some throwers, the phrase "if he's even, he's leavin'" particularly applies. With a truly great thrower, the disc arrives on the side of your body in the place to which you were already running such that all you have to do is run where you were already going and catch the disc. No adjustment, no late defensive bid to worry about. You're open and the disc is where it needs to be so that that defender already knows he's beaten. When that great thrower makes a slight error, that's when the great receiver makes the great play under pressure. Or the great defender makes his great play and comes up big. That gray area is where games are won and lost. 4 plays like that can be the difference between 15-11 and 11-15.

Celebrate your gray area plays and players-- they're the game-changers. The rest of your team, and the rest of your offense are the blue-collared workers. You've got to acknowledge those plays every day. Encourage those plays at practice until they become the first option. Those are the plays and players that make the big plays that happen under pressure valuable. Without their work, big plays happen in meaningless games or in meaningless points.

I know I've gone on a crazy tangent here, but I've been thinking about what makes a winning team in ultimate or even other sports a lot recently. I think this is directly related to being a captain now and that I feel like that's the sort of question I should be able to answer, considering my goal is to be a member of a winning team. I love thinking this way. Anyway, I'll just return to the earlier point:

Pickup in NB was awesome today. No Chumps. Yes Wind. Yes Weather. Hours upon hours of high-level disc games. Keep pushing. Always more to learn. Always more to improve on. Better throws, better cuts. Quicker motion from catch to throw. More balanced on defense. More aggressive as a cutter. More. Better vision. Always something to work on. Always something to improve. Always a new throw to perfect. Always.

The burrito afterward were certainly no slouch either. I think I'll have to make a habit of that place.

On the train ride home all I could think of was "I can think of no day I'd rather have." There might be something wrong with me for thinking that, but I don't care any more.

*- New Brunswick Boot Variation: Stall starts at 6 (like mini) and cones are more like 4 feet apart than 4 yards such that one player can almost guard both of them. I think we also played to 5 instead of 3.

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it is with great trepidation...

...that i send you this email/survey today.

it is my first truly visible act as captain, and i'm sure that i've made some tiny but telling error that will inform you about me and what will come of this coming season that you will latch onto, much as i would have, and mock me about for years to come.

so it goes. mocker to mockee. straddling the line like the colossus?

cervically!

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Pike Future

So, now I’m one of the co-captains of Pike.

The team nominated and voted and all of that and now the captains are me and Tim Johnson.

This will, no doubt, change the nature of this blog. In some ways it’ll let me talk about new stuff, in other ways, it might could restrict the sort of thing that I used to talk about freely. Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll play it by ear, but I’d be surprised if this doesn’t change what is written here. Not that I’m ever truly lucid here anyway.

It will also change the nature of me, Pike, Tim Johnson, and any number of other things that I haven’t yet considered. Though for now, I won’t get into that.

If you’re interested in how I feel about it, I’m ecstatic. Truly. I find that when I’m in a position of leadership, I hold myself to a much higher standard and I play better, harder and have more fun. I plan to work to make Pike better every day.

If you or anyone you know is interested in trying out for Pike 08, let me (or Tim Johnson) know!

Oh yeah… I might write a bit about Ultimax. I might not. That was a crazy trip.

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Practice

It rained for practice today.

Yay? I'm not sure. Attendance was far from perfect, and, for the most part, all those who were in attendance had played in Summer League Finals yesterday (PADA/Wudi) and/or today (PADA) and were unreasonably whiny.

I did myself a favor this morning and started stretching as soon as I got out of bed. It improved my practice experience by a ton. I stretched for about 30 minutes this morning and then did some stretching in the evening as well.

We played 3 scrimmages, and we (the d-team) lost each. I can't remember what this puts my record at, so I'll just start over at 0-3. That kinda stunk. We had crazy drops int he rain, including one that I dropped well after I caught it. All that I could think was "Well, that never happened before so it won't happen again" and move on.

My throws/pulls felt really solid in the rain/wind/cold, which was a good sign. I think a good goal for me will be to make sure I get out and throw in "conditions" as the series approaches. It helps remove the adjustment period (however brief) when I play in non-optimal weather. This weekend's finals and practice were all in either wind or wind and rain. I love that weather. It separates the wheat from the chaff, so to speak.

The other thing is that the errors that are occurring now are the sort that just require more team-level familiarity. This is a good thing. There will be no more turnover in the roster now, so we can just learn to play together. Fine-tune the split-second decisions. We've got the basic concepts and forms down, now we've got to work on our improvisational skills.
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Workout Total:
3 hours ultimate
30 min stretching x2

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Just Win

Sometimes, even Al Davis gets it right.

We had Pike scrimmage-practice today. Much like practice, but instead of practicing, we just scrimmage in various games to predetermined amounts while split up in teams. Stop worrying about strategy, and dial in on winning. Just a taste of real competition. More battling, for sure, will come as the season progresses.

Today's session was good. There was a ton of fire and desire which had faded from our playing style of late. There was spiking and jawing. My kind of environment. The D team on the first game, 7-3. Then we lost the next 4 games to 3. We closed with a win in a game to 5, I'm pretty sure. Practice Record is slipping, either way. That'll have to be remedied.

Some notions to (re)focus on:

• Be predictable to your team and unpredictable to your opponent
  
• Anticipate Anticipate Anticipate
• Quick Feet
• Whole Field

I had some nice throws/pulls. A couple of looks were unnecessarily difficult, which resulted in either tough completions or Ds, and one throw (to Jamie) was completely ludicrous and should not have been contemplated, let alone thrown. Sometimes brothers conspire for maximum stupidity on the field as well as off.

I love long hot summer practices.

Practice Record:
12-8 (Passable at best)
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Workout Total:
4 hours ultimate

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Boston, Day Two

Why am I tired this morning?

Where am I this morning? It is dark, I clearly hear cars passing by. IT sounds sleepy yet a little active. Seems altogether too welcoming to be a hotel... We're in Boston this weekend, right? I think I'm at Elizabeth's place. A quick survey of the room confirms it. Right on.

Though I'm hardly awake, I'm being offered coffee. What service! Am I supposed to leave a tip? We slowly get ourselves together for the day ahead. For some reason, despite our huge roster yesterday, I'm a little tired. As I contemplate the specific way in which I'm tired, it becomes clear that it was more of the "I stood in the sun for a thousand hours yesterday" sort than the "I killed myself on the ultimate field all day yesterday." Fair enough, I know just the remedy. Get a little stretching done, down some coffee and visualize perfection for the day ahead.

We drop by another Dunkin' Donuts (They're everywhere!) on the way to the fields and, of course, saw other ultimate players there. Dan Yi and other miscreants this time around. Traveling toward the field, all I could think of was getting more dialed in today and staying there, no matter what other distractions entered into the equation. Whenever some option other than staying focused came through my mind, I would chose to stay focused.

Warmups were pretty good for me. I got a good sweat going, woke my muscles up and completed all of my passes. Got my feet moving on the mark and tried to think about my acceleration out of every direction change, small or large. Didn't get quite enough deeper throws in, but I felt confident nonetheless.

First Game vs Truck Stop, 11-15
This was an odd game. Our D had the disc twice on the first point and failed to convert. As the game went on, our D would alternate between getting scored on in 1 throw and grinding through a long point of solid D only to get scored on. When we got turns, we did not capitalize. I imagine TS could say the same, based on how bad I felt this game was all around. The Boston group heckling our final was clearly horrified by the number of turnovers in this game. I think it is fair to say that TS and Pike were as well. It was disappointing to lose to them, but not entirely unexpected considering the number of times we'll likely face off over the course of the season. Some things were better than yesterday, some were about the same. Some great stuff on which to improve came out of this game.

Bye
Watched some Wicked/Ambush, had a little chat with Danny and Ryan about what was wrong with Pike's offense, finally stopped by the scoreboard and checked out how everything had gone thus far.

Second Game vs Zebra Muscles, 15-9
While they strung together some nice pairs of points, we were ahead pretty much the whole way. I was continually covering a squirrelly handler-type who would do the strangest thing from the dump position in the middle of the stall count: Go Deep. I mean, yeah, there's a ton of space in front of you, but you run by all of the defense who can presumably use the power of sight to provide help D. There was a little shoving match in this one that I helped break up pretty quickly. Stupid ultimate players. I'm pretty sure that this was the game where Schmucker laid out over some guy's shoulder on an in-cut to get a D and then immediately caught the upwind huck for a bookend. That may be the most ridiculous thing I've seen on the field in 07.

Third Game vs The Van Buren Boys, 13-11
They only have 9 guys. I hope this won't be like Goat at Chicago a couple of years back. Or Boston X/Y at the Pike Invite, for that matter. Small teams often rally so well together that they give everyone tough games. Team chemistry counts for a ton in ultimate. This team also plays to their strengths very well by putting up deep shots to classically American corn-fed athletes early and often. Their active zone was a little challenging as it was aggressive and a bit sneaky. We did manage to push through in this one for the tourney ending W, which was nice.

Julie, Jamie and I got going pretty quickly after our game ended as Jamie had to travel after he got rid of us in Jersey City. On the trip back, we stopped at a roadside restaurant of some kind and had a discussion about the omnipresence of corn products in the American diet and a number of other completely unrelated things.

The rest of the drive was uneventful and we arrive back in Jersey a bit after 10pm.

The whole car ride was full of thoughts about ultimate and so many things I wanted to write down and tell my teammates or captains. Definitely a disappointing trip in terms of direct result, but I feel that we often learn best from failure. Now we have a better sense of what we need to improve upon in order to reach our goals. Time to use the lessons of the past to plan the course of our future. Now the real season begins.
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Workout Total:
3 games of ultimate

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Boston Invitational, Day One

"I've got to say, that didn't go as well as I had hoped."

That's what I thought to myself as we arrived to the field on Saturday morning. The trip up there, as I fully expected, was fraught with difficulty, as they say. The plan involved my brother leaving work at 5pm, going to Philly to pick up Wickner and then driving to Jersey City to pick up Julie and I, eat and head up to Boston.

Of course, this scheme makes no sense at all and all of the driving involved is through high-traffic areas at that particular time of the day. Even in ideal traffic conditions, this is a difficult maneuver to pull off. Executed perfectly, it could probably be done in a little under 3 hours. For those of you scoring at home, this means the vehicle's EPAT (Earliest Possible Arrival Time) at Jersey City was a little before 8pm. The LPAT (If you are unable to figure this one out, hire a tutor) was somewhere in the neighborhood of Midnight (Tangent).

This mean that there was a decision point during that time frame in terms of "Should we forge ahead tonight or grab rest while we can and then push on in the dawn?" I had been mulling this decision point over in my head for a couple of days earlier in the week and could only decide that it was a decision that would need to be made in the moment. Why? Because only at that moment would I know my feelings about either option.

As Jamie and Wicknah approached, I was asleep in anticipation of whichever option we ended up with. I was due up to drive the next leg of the trip. If we were going at night, I would need to recover from the 2pm margaritas at work not in terms of being drunk, but that drinking is more tiring than not. If we were going in the morning, I would like to start amassing some sleep now and try to hit a minimum of 5 hours. They arrived and the group was polled. As the moment came to decide, I realized that I had no particular benefit from either decision, stated that I was more than happy to drive no, and more than happy to drive in the morning. At least that's what I thought at the time. I may have groggily grumbled: "Either is fine. I have no opinion."

We decided to go in the morning. Departure time: 3:30 am for a drive that I usually do in 3.5-4 hours given moderate to good traffic. That should be fine for an 8:30 game, 7:30 arrival time. I wanted to get there by a little after 7 for some extra warmup after the car ride and a little extra throwing time to learn the wind, but if I didn't, it would not be a huge loss as I warm up well and generally adapt my throws to the environment pretty easily. A lot of that came from throwing in lotsa wind whenever possible over the last 4 years or so. On the beach, in stormy (non-lightning) weather, at East River Park, windy tournaments, whatever. When the wind picked up, I found someone with whom to throw, or took my bag of discs out and threw at a bunch of different angles to a targets in different directions. Each time working on the angle of the disc compared to the wind. As I did this, I realized that the release point was only indirectly responsible for the angle at which the disc traveled. The wrist snap is the key at every release point. If you can translate the force generated from your ankles, up through your legs, hips, torso, shoulders, and arms into the correctly angled and attenuated directional snap of the wrist, any release point (given the ability to generate the necessary snapping power in the required direction from that release point) is a possibility.

Assured that we would arrive on time, I slept easily.

At 3:07am, the first alarm when off. Oh, I think I mistimed my sleep cycles... That's why we have multiple alarms. I went back to sleep knowing that in 3 minutes another alarm would go off. At 3:10 I got up very easily. We gathered our stuff, and got into the car. Bob Marley makes for good late summer night drive music. An on-time departure! Perfecto! "Everything's comin' up Milhouse!"

The drive is a lovely early morning jaunt to Beantown. I honestly don't recall that much of it. Well, that is until I follow the directions that say turn onto I-90E from I-90E. I follow that, as crazy as it sounds, and about 20 miles later (due to the combination my nearly encyclopedic knowledge of driving follies on the way to Devens and my utter inability to get there right the first time) I realize that we've made an error. We pull over and look at a map, realizing that the directions I was handed were supposed to say "turn onto I-290 from I-90." Ah hell, now we'll just go on back to I-495N and head back on route 2. Sadly, this is something I've done before. But the original time was due to not actually having directions or a map, just a general sense of where Devens was. That was kinda fun. This was the opposite of that. The good side was that we had made good enough time and left early enough to get to the fields on time with breakfast.

We do arrive in time, and get to our fields. We were about ready to warm up when I realized that I had left some things in the car (notably, my first cup of coffee this morning) so I went back as the team started the jog. I caught up with them by midway through our active warmups (which after initial resistance have been near unanimously adopted) and worked myself through a slightly abbreviated version that I like to use for workouts and summer league. It really focuses on the hips, core and larger muscles. A quick set of stretches with engaged muscles through a couple key ranges of motion takes care of the smaller groups. Into our skipping warmups and the like. Then drill time. A little live play and some extra time for pulling and deep looks.

I looked around at some point and realized that we had no fewer than 30 guys. It turns out that we had 31 guys. The list broke down like this: Heckman, Trey, Brandon, TC, Jeff, Dono, Ian, Tim Johnson, Ben Kleveland, Dusty, Ringo, Fink, Schmucker, Tous, Heng-Scheng, Malcolm, Dan Yi, Jamie, Foss, Art Shull, Ed Resnik, Raphael, Ricky, Eddie Peters, Mutton, Spanish, Justin Illuzi, Perry Gorgin, Pribicko, Mio and Herschel. Subbing is going to be a bitch. Team focus is going to be difficult to maintain.

First game vs Medmen, 15-6.
I was surprised, I expected more from this team. It seemed like nothing was working for them all day long against any team that they played. Perhaps it is a hot and cold thing with them. Perhaps it all lies in the completion percentage on their unorthodox deep looks. If they connect? This team is no fun to play because they're making headway with passes approximately 100% of defenses encourage. When they're not completing them, it is clearly in the interest of the other team to play high-percentage ultimate.

Second Game vs PoNY, 10-15.
Ouch. The additions to their roster are paying dividends. The combination of a growing level of individual talent, team-level familiarity and the addition of Bailey and BVH (Despite Bailey's apparent inability to catch things thrown to him by BVH) bodes well for this squad in 07. A lot of ex-Pike on that roster and it is always terrible to lose to guys you know. Unfortunately for them, Goat is again looking strong and while Boston doesn't' seem invincible, they haven't completely gelled yet either.

Bye round.
Watched a little of Amp v Mischief, Puppet v Tandem and Godiva v someone.

Third Game vs Boston, 8-15.
This was not fun either. Focus is definitely suffering for everyone at this point. Players have been out for too long. The offense is bogging down and the D is not converting when we are given/create our own opportunities. Kurt Gibson made his appearance for Boston in this one. That could be another great addition to that team, provided he fits in with whatever philosophy the new team has. Teddy seemed to be getting a lot of blocks on us. Losing this one meant that we had to play a crossover to determine if we were in the upper or lower bracket on Sunday. These games are never fun. The lower team is fired up and usually pretty tired while the upper team is pissed off and negative after not faring so well. This game was no different.

Fourth Game vs New Noise, 15-14.
This game was kinda odd. I felt like we were in control for most of the game, and at some point I looked at the scoreboard and was a bit alarmed. It seemed that a double game point was likely. to their credit, they were completing a ton of deep looks to some guy wearing what looked like scrubs. They were entirely unafraid to hang it up there and bet on their guy. And their guys were winning a lot while we were failing to adjust. I can't remember how this ended, as by this point I was doing a terrible job of staying focused. After being up at 3:10 and pushing through until this game that started at 5pm, I was just plain fading. I kept fighting, but it was hard when I wasn't in the game. While playing, I found it easy to play at a passable level, but not at my best. Kinda frustrating.

In any case, we retain the right to play in quarters and it turns out that we play Truck Stop at 8:30am. Nice. I like playing against this team as both teams hate to lose to each other. Not that I like or dislike them personally, but that I value their presence as opponents. These games are always battles.

Julie, Jame and I tossed in the beautiful weather until the sun was nearly down. That was a nice, relaxing way to round out the day and unwind a bit. Try to quiet the mind and think about the paths of the disc on the backdrop of a nice sunset.

We went to stay in Somerville with a friend of ours, Elizabeth, and had BBQ. It was good, although I was asleep by the time it came and had to be woken up to partake. Not a shocker for anyone considering the length of that particular day. Set the alarm for some early hour and fell asleep right away...
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Workout Total:
8 hour ultimate tournament

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The Redshirts Are Coming!

Pike and our fetching red jerseys will be headed to the Boston Invitational tomorrow.

Somehow, there's another cockamamie travel scheme afoot involving people from Philly, Allentown and Jersey City taking the same car to Boston to stay in a friend's place not close to the fields. I'm sure we'll do a number of dumb things because we'll be a car full of dumb ultimate players. Our arrival will be late and I will likely be asleep in the car for long stretches. Some things never change.

Pike's bringing a more than full roster this weekend (As we are wont to do). This tournament always requires a strange balance for our team as we try to work it as a both a tryout and competitive tournament. That is, we have tryouts, but we're subbing to win. I happily have nothing at all to do with subs. If I were charged with reconciling those two notions, my brain might pop.

As for the competition, we'll be facing Boston, PoNY and Medmen in pool play. That's a good pool in terms of different styles of play and interest in the teams. Boston is the new conglomerate on the block and this may give some indicator of what they'll be like as a team. PoNY got some new pickups and seem more confident coming into this season than they have been of late. Medmen are always a dangerous team and seem to be growing/progressing as a team as they play together. After Pike's disappointing 06, what will we bring to the table in 07?

It should be exciting!
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Workout Total:
30-45 min stretching (planned)

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