"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.
Tuesday, June 17
"to take the body seriously
Tuesday, June 3
for the record
i'm not against physical play in ultimate...
but the rules are pretty squarely against it.
From there, we make our choices, not the other way round.
I'm no angel on the field. Just ask the teams I've been on that have split up good versus evil at practice... or tournaments.
Also, fine but important line between physical and intentional fouling. This is where *most* sports lie *most* of the time. Just like ours.
Friday, May 30
what is ultimate?
More and less than you think,
comes the reply.
Everything and nothing all at once. Neither the end-all nor the be-all though at times it is either and both.
"If one chooses to look upon Go as valueless, then absolutely valueless it is; and if one chooses to look upon it as a thing of value, then a thing of absolute value it is."
But what kind of value?
Today it is the game, the practice, the preparation. The culture, the people, the self-expression.
The self-expression. There is something here. Must investigate further.
An urge to self-expression defines the way each of us plays the games and plays the games within the game as well as the game containing the games. Each decision we make has consequences in ultimate. On and off the field, we craft our "ultimate" selves. We create ourselves in this sport. We build on our workouts, our relationships, our experiences to become who we want to be as athletes, as teammates and as people.
Eventually, what we build grows into our daily lives. Often becoming more like the "ultimate" version of our selves in the regular part of our lives, sometimes the other way 'round. But for a short time in our lives, we push up to the spaces, the freedom of self-definition. Press toward a fuller knowledge of self before the door closes. Before the body gives in and the mind seeks new challenges.
We express ourselves through ultimate. Not just with throws and cuts and d and effort, but in the way we comport ourselves. The way we deal with our teammates and opponents and all others.
To (over?)simplify:
Ultimate is a paint by numbers challenge. Given 70x40+25x40 and an infinite number of options, what will you show us of yourself?
Tuesday, May 20
some posts
Are really simple and still get the point across.
I hope that this is one of them.
Thursday, May 8
Austin
hmmm... barbecue...
The weekend had ups and downs in Austin. It was hot, we folded in some games, and yet fought through bad ultimate in other games to keep it close.
This early season has been quite the experience for me as a captain. I'm learning more about what I need to work on to be a great captain, but I'm not there yet. I'm learning more and more about my teammates, which is awesome, but now it is time to start putting some things together instead of just getting experiences together.
It will be quite the interesting season, and the reminders of seeing Goat, Bravo and Doublewide's varying styles of ultimate, it left me with a lot of thinking to do about what Pike's style will be this season and in the future. So many different paths to success to consider and reconsider. Once we figure out which blocks we have, we'll determine what kind of castle to build.
Nothing is set yet, but I'm starting to fill in the blanks with this team, and I'm loving what I'm seeing.
Wednesday, May 7
would the game change
if the nba instituted a monetary fine
for every player over a number X of fouls over the regular season(based on a percentage of season played and increasing in size of fine as he number of fouls increases)/a post season series?
What would happen if the rate was variable based on the threshold established the year before? If you always tried to fine 50% of the players what would happen? If you always tried to fine 1%? 75%? 99%?
These are the strange sports questions that keep me up at night.
--
Pikes x and y when to the Beth Coltman Memorial. One of us got to the finals, the other didn't. Got to see lots of guys and how they've progressed since last year (both new players and players who were on Pike in the past).
It'll be a fun fun season, I think.
---
How are the Hawks doing this? Or rather the Celtics not doing it? OR both? Josh Smith scares me (as a small man). KG in a different way... KG shames your manhood. Josh shames your athleticism.
---
There is a way to play ultimate that while you don't create contact, you don't allow contact. You apply force, but not outside the balance of your body. If you play this way, you're always ready. Balanced. Aggressive. Reading the field.
---
KG does these things on a different level. He just dunked all over someone from about 11 feet up off of the ground with a guy banging into him. And now they're showing old clips of The Human Highlight Reel. Oh man. Just... I remember watching him when I was a little kid from time to time and he was just destroying everyone in his path. And I've watched tapes since then... He's *A Terrifying Athlete.*
---
I got skied the other day by Joe Smash. This is not a surprise. Nor has it been a surprise when the other various 6'3"-6'6" range guys who are just tall and fast have skied me.
---
Some guys like me still play ultimate at the top levels. Some of them are really good. If Josh Smith or Kevin Garnett wandered onto any ultimate field that I've ever seen, He would be "Sir" to every single player there. At least until one of the little guys like me stood up to him and got thrown ten feet away with a light shove at practice and everyone would understand that that guy's The Man here.
---
I mean they're not scary as people, or walking down the street because there's no reason for him to be. But competing with one of these guys for a basketball? For a disc that we're running around after?
---
Hell Luke Walton Really Scares Me as an opponent. He's got a Grateful Dead Tattoo and you could picture him hanging out all of his life either stoned or in an environment in which acting like you are stoned is normal behavior. He could have ended up playing ultimate if his dad wasn't Bill Walton. You know? He's 6'10" and Unbelievably Faster and Stronger than me.
Paul Shirley might scare me as an opponent. I haven't actually seen him play, but I can't imagine that he's doing so much that someone couldn't recruit him for an ultimate team. He could write about it. I think I may have sent him an email about this. I wonder if I did or just wrote a draft and deleted it?
---
How can I be aggressive and read the field? What can I see when I look at the field, what can I see develop before it happens? How can I get to where I'll need to be? How can I anticipate the fouls so that I'm balanced and strong enough to push through? That's How I try to Protect myself when I play. Know What Will Happen and make your decision first. Games at Regionals and Nationals are different games than Others. There Are Risks.
---
If I were on the field or court or athletic arena with any of the NBA players you think of when you think of Dominant NBA players who are not Iverson Freaks but the truly "Out of one of the classic NBA Molds" great players or athletes, I would longer be able to compete. Most in ultimate would no longer be able to compete. The only ones of us who would have a chance are the people who already make me irrelevant on the ultimate field. The guys where, if I cared about my image, I would run away from as soon as the disc was thrown (but they're always a chance something will happen... Like when I skied Steve O'Lare and Danny Clark at the same time!) to get out of the picture. In the care of those Dominant Professional Athletes, if I tried to jump in there, I would be Damaged. Because as soon as I really tried to push through and be aggressive, I would run into a True Athlete.
---
What a silly game.
Friday, May 2
got my metrocard...
from my colombian coworker who got it from some mexican tourists...
and my ultimate bag with sleeping bag/pad (so it is a little large).
I must be going to Live Logic.
Have plane tickets, rental car info and directions to relevant places.
Have a small team, but that's great for the guys looking for experience. Both in new roles and with new teammates and all of that. Opportunities to play against Nationals-levels teams are worth it for players trying to expand their club games or just learn what the club game really is. Everyone knows Bravo, Goat and DW bring it, and I think we may have had a tight one with Grit last year taboot. Should be a blast.
Hope we rise to our team and individual challenges this weekend!
Monday, April 21
Fools Fest
This pretty much captures the feel of the thing.
From the Prom Zombie perspective.
aka: My team jumped higher, looked better and won (or tied) when we played you.
Friday, April 18
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.
Tuesday, March 25
or maybe dar's blog is not dead
because the fan
carries on
I don't even know what they're arguing about, but that is some fine slicing and dicing.
Monday, March 24
Basic Post
Today's workout:
Tabata Lunges (16/17/17/17/16/17/16/17)
Tabata Rest
Tabata Pushups (28/25/20/10/3+7/3+7/4+6/5+6)
Tabata Rest
Tabata Burpees (8/8/9/9/8/9/8/7)
Lots of stretching after a weekend without ultimate (shock!) save for a bit of light throwing.
Workout Notes:
Lunges were awesome work for balance, stability and flexibility. Really reach out on the lunges, focused on keeping my motion smooth and controlled while going quickly. I was surprised at how quickly I was doing them. Pushups (99 real ones in there plus 26 knee-pushups!) were interesting... did well on the first three, and powered the third on out. Then I was gassed for the next two, but on the last two, I felt stronger than I had on those two. Ten seconds of recovery seemed to really help. Like my body is adjusting to recover as much as possible in 10 seconds. Nice. I was nervous before I started the burpees... With my back and core feeling tired, (arms too, but I never worry about them as much as I do the center of my body) I decided to start it up, but do it smart if I felt any true weakness in my back. Got through the first two alright, but on the last burpee of the second one, I felt a different pain in the back, and I knew that the landing after the jump was causing it. So I took out the jump and just did slightly slower squat-thrusts or whatever you call a burpee if you replace the jump with just standing up. Did them carefully and viola! No more pain. So no worries on that front.
I think this one will make me sore on Wednesday.
Today's food:
Dark Chocolate
Coffee
Fruit Salad (orange, honeydew, cantaloupe, apple, kiwi, strawberry, grape)
2 clementines
2 oranges
Leftover ham with cheddar
Celery
Carrots
Assorted mixed nuts
Water
Today's Ultimate Thought:
What are you looking at as a thrower when your team calls a play?
Friday, March 21
just.throw.
I love throwing with people I know.
I can learn so much about the way they play the game, or the way that they think when they have the disc just by tossing that disc back and forth. I learn which throws people like to catch, and which throws people struggle to catch. Which throws move them from receiver to thrower quickly, and which slow them down. Which way do they pivot? What's the lazy go-to throw?
Different characteristics of people I throw with, one per person:
Perfect rhythm, OI flicks, balanced, nonchalant, throws like I'm a girl, catches strong, holy easy snap, infielder, drops bombs, perfect form?, drunken-master style, IO flicks, the big smooth, robotflair, craftylefty, etc etc.
Throwing with different people focuses on different throws. They like throwing at different distances and with different rhythms and doing different things. Yet... there's never really a need to talk it out. Just adjust and keep throwing. Keep learning. Keep working. Keep focusing.
directconnect.
I love throwing with people I don't know.
I can learn so much about the way they play the game, or the way that they think when they have the disc just by tossing that disc back and forth. I learn which throws people like to catch, and which throws people struggle to catch. Which throws move them from receiver to thrower quickly, and which slow them down. Which way do they pivot? What's the lazy go-to throw?
So many different characteristics to notice.
Throwing with different people focuses on different throws. They like throwing at different distances and with different rhythms and doing different things. Yet... there's never really a need to talk it out. Just adjust and keep throwing. Keep learning. Keep working. Keep focusing.
"Ibid, your honor."
Wednesday, March 19
SHEIET
So that was the Single Hardest Exercise I've Ever Tried
SHEIET, boy I'm telling you.
So there I was, I did a Tabata set of pushups with my feet on a foam roller to introduce some instability. That was good. Much more challenging/tiring. Took a little break, typed an email to a teammate and did a tabata set of squats with a band around my knees and focusing on sitting back on the squat and keeping my heels on the ground because it really made them hard. That was good...
And then I started stretching for a while, which is what i usually do in the evenings for a little bit at least. And I reached down to touch my toes and then, for some reason I decided that it would be interesting to just slide my hands from here on the ground out to like a down-ward dog thing and see how that worked. So I did, and then I kept sliding my hands forward across the ground until I was just about parallel with the ground with my arms all the way up over my head. The whole time, I worked to keep just my fingertips on the ground as I slid (not always succeeding). And pushed my fingers in the ground as hard as i could while still sliding forward while still traveling forward and resisted them by pushing with my legs (trying to keep my heels on the ground and not always succeeding). I then tried to work from that position back up to where i started by doing the reverse, but by pulling against my own resistance again provided by my fingertips on the ground. Which sort of stretched my back out while making those muscles work. Weird and so difficult. Eventually, I did get back up.
Wow. I'm now still exhausted and I started this post about 90 minutes ago with a break somewhere back there to send an email or two that popped into my head and grab a quick bite to eat.
I have no idea what exercise that was or how i ended up doing it, but every single muscle i can think of is exhausted. SHEIET.
Apologies for any gross errors in this one-- it was typed in a rush.
Tuesday, March 18
(talk/think)ing about refs
...last night after pickup.
It started from a thought I had before pickup. The idea that everyone should have to make eye contact when they make calls and explain themselves. No, it doesn't prevent lying, but at least then you're lying to my face, you cheater.
And then the thoughts that had been bubbling beneath the surface coalesced into something with words.
Resolving calls on the field without the need for some other 3rd party to resolve things is a sign of maturity. Calm, rational discussion about something you are passionate about is a sign of maturity. Playing by the rules that you agree to play by is a sign of maturity.
Extend that thought to how we, as ultimate players, tend to model our on-field behaviour. Our on-field heroes tend to be professional athletes. Professional. You know... with literally millions of dollars at stake. They are OUR models for a game in which NOTHING is at stake. Nothing. Not a life, not a job, not a slap, not anything... I love this game and I play hard. I play to win. But I know that each victory is nothing.
If you would cheat me for something as meaningless as one play in one game of a lifetime of ultimate, what would you do for $1? $10? $100? $1000? $10000? $100000? $1000000?
---
I don't want the ref to bail you out.
(I want you to call the foul.)
I don't want the ref to bail you out.
(I want you to lie to me.)
I don't want the ref to bail you out.
(I want you to hear me call the foul.)
---
We get no money... why are you cheating?
We get no scholarships... why are you cheating?
Take the disc away from me because you choose to cheat. I'll let you do it every time.
Take the disc back because you choose to cheat. I'll let you do it every time.
Try that throw again after a phantom foul because you choose to cheat. I'll let you do it every time.
Call the non-existent tra
vel into me and call the fo
ul me to stop flow.
because I give you nothing)
You cannot cheat me because you and I are not playing the same game.
---
I was not always this Way
Sunday, March 16
directconnect
GRIP the disc.
No, not hold. GRIP. Tighter. Feel the plastic bend. Use both hands. Like a crabcatch. Bend the disc in your hands. Get familiar with it. Which parts are more malleable? GRIP. TIGHTER. Toss.
CATCH. ATTACK. Feel the plastic smack your hand. Close your hand. TIGHTER. Both hands. GRIP. Feel the disc stick to your hand. Pivot. Feel your cleats in the ground. Push off. Stay balanced. Draw, snap, release. Balance.
CATCH. HIT the disc with your hand. STINGS a little. Draw, snap, release.
Bound... Spring. SMACK. Balance, land, GRIP, pivot, draw, snap, release.
...
Step, step, SPRING. SMACK. Land. Grind into the earth. Slide. Cuts. Feel the experience. Get up, spring, bound, run. UP! Land.
...
Step, step, Draw... SNAAAAAP, rebalance. Float. Sprint. Angle. Me disc man. See it, see it. Anticipate, cut him off. Steps. Balance. Accelerate, change. Low!! Quick feet. Accelerate. You know what's next. GO!
...
Move. Move. Limit his vision. See the field like the thrower. Balance. Always balanced. Footwork. Set it up before you catch. Attack, recover, draw, snap, release. Cut. Balanced. Catch, grip, snap. Cut. Limit his vision. Destroy predictions, cause reactions. Open open open. Threaten. Reinforce fear. NOW!!! Power position. No hesitation. Balanced. BOMB.
...
Swivel. Turn. look. Adjust. Not through. Feet on the ground. Keep them quick. Outsides of the feet. Press. Hands. feet. See the pattern. anticipate. Release point. Twice? Almost. Won't see a third, I bet. Missed. No over-commit. See the disc if it can move. Disc, space, offenders. Hammer, recover, redirect. Sweeter bait next time. Trap that deep-cutting fuck! shit. I hate handlers. Moved moved moved moved. Diced. Done. Shoot. Missed the chance.
...
Let the water wash into the cuts. No, it's good for you. Feel the missing skin. Know where it isn't. Make sure you get the dirt out. Where did that bruise come from? Damn. I didn't think that part of me was bleeding. Looks like someone tried to break all of my fingers but couldn't.
Yup, stretch out a bit. Yipes, calves and hamstrings... you should have mentioned this pain earlier. Hang your arms low. Stretch it out. OW. Stupid shoulders. Get them stretched out too. Wash the injuries over one mo 'gin. Rinse. Deep breath. Dry.
...
Tuesday, March 11
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.
Thursday, March 6
Hawaii Eight
Hat Tournament over. Ultimate is over for the week. For both weeks. One more day in paradise.
I don't know what the plan is and I don't really care. I've loved being here like I have loved few trips in the past. Maybe a snowboarding trip. Maybe a skiing trip when I was younger. Maybe that trip to Utah with my grandparents and relatives when I was younger. That was a good time, but I'm not ever sure I enjoyed that fully.
I think I was too, well... young.
I'm not now.
Anyway, this entry is actually about ultimate.
The last two weekend have taught me a lot about how to be a thrower. The winds here are constantly variable, though not necessarily always strong. It is always there, and it lets good throwers make throws that they couldn't make otherwise. Use the wind. Rip the disc with that spin that makes it sit in a spot.
There is a difference between being pretty positive that you can make a throw and knowing that you can and will make the throw. There is no hesitation. All of us are like this for shorter passes, but to finally feel like the field is open for me as a thrower to paint as I choose is a great thing.
I'm not a perfect thrower, but man.... I'm better than I was yesterday. I'm better than I was last year. I'm better than I was 5 years ago when I started with Pike. I'll be better tomorrow.
--
The weekends, for me, were about playing winning ultimate. No matter the team or the environment or opposition or weather or anything, the goal was to play winning ultimate for that team. This meant filling different roles for different teams. With Philthy at Kaimana, this was all about getting a couple of our other throwers into good positions, and taking good shots (And some wild ones) when I had the chance. We had receivers who could make some plays, and all of our throwers could put the disc out to a place where the defender would need to make a spectacular play (and some did) to get to the disc.
Trusting your receiver to make the play when you make the throw is the implicit contract of playing ultimate. Afterall, you can't play the game on your own, you need to rely on your teammates. The better they are, the more you can rely on them. The more you can rely on them, the more throws (hammers, blades, lasers, etc) are open to you because they can catch/read everything. Having that trust, that connection, is the goal of a team on offense. (and even on defense, really)
It starts with strategy (we'll dump on this count and look for this throw over this throw...) but it needs to evolve past that. To the point where you each read the situation the same way and then react accordingly on trust, which is a split-second or so before you would have normally.
The difficulty comes when that trust is broken, for whatever reason. Perhaps the thrower is off. Perhaps a receiver is distracted. Perhaps someone is injured or sick or something. Perhaps a throw was just off, or a receiver completely gacked something. At that point, it is up to you as a teammate to keep the trust going. To continue to believe in your teammates and what you've worked on so hard. To continue to believe in yourself because you know that you're good enough and that you've worked hard to get to where you are. But most importantly, you can never lose faith in your teammates.
As a teammate, you must build up that trust. You must make your teammates believe in you. And Trust you. And know that they can rely on you.
That belief, that unshakable cornerstone of a great team can come from an individual or a group or the whole team, but that positive, radiant trust, based on the knowledge that everyone is working to improve, working toward the same goal, getting better every day is what you're after.
If you cannot get there, you cannot go far.
The Hilo Hat tournament was fun. We (Team Red) went 5-0 on Day One, beating many of the players from the East Coast who made it out. I was fortunate enough to have a team full of people that I didn't know, save for the TD, Dave, who I played against at Kaimana, as he was on He LoLo. He's a good thrower who loves the game and loves winning.
The theme for our team was carving the other teams up with give-go action to deep looks. Hmmm.... Just like Pike. I felt very comfortable once I realized what the team was trying to do. Once they realized that I tended (though... tended is chosen for a purpose) to have good judgment as a thrower, they were okay with my deep looks too, but at first, there was some dismay that some of those discs were turnovers.
This is the point at the hat tournament that you need to manage carefully. If you're a thrower and you know that you have throws (not just *think* that you have throws) you will have some early turnovers because your teammates didn't know that you had throws like that. You've got to not make a habit of it, and play the game that they want for a moment until you see another good deep cut. Put it up again for the encouragement, but know that you must not do this every time. Your teammates will hate you if you don't complete nearly all of them. Remember that the game is not about you, it is about your team.
I found that focusing on playing pretty strong D on good players is a way to motivate myself and keep myself up for a game. Trying to get D's on glory cuts or being that irritating guy to get open on is way to show your teammates that you're invested in the game. That you can play, and that you take it seriously. Mix in a part of joy with that, always smile, and always encourage your teammates, and you're set. You'll start laying the foundation for a winning team.
Or, more importantly, a team that loves playing together.
On Day Two, we didn't fare so well, but that's why we went 5-0 on Day 1! We lost our first game to the White team (the villains for this tournament as they had at least 5 guys from the same Kaimana team, Philthy: Doc, Eug, Trash, Jeff Ho and Kazan.) whose offense consisted of Doc throwing lefty hucks to Eug, Trash, Jeff and Kazan before the defenders knew what was coming. Their women were really good as well, though I don't know their names, and the men I haven't mentioned because I don't know them were very solid as well. And playing for keeps. Which is fun.
We lost to them to the tune of 11-3 or something (games to 11). I wasn't worried as I figured we'd see them again. And we actually didn't play as poorly as the score indicated. Just some uncharacteristic errors. And the White team never seemed to just turn it over like all of the other teams. They were too busy scoring on us.
We then played the Green team, home to some other NYU alums like Blake and Jimmy. They also had one of the 3 fastest ultimate players I've ever seen, Keoki(I may have spelled that wrong). Now, let me tell you how I meet Keoki:
We got to the campsite on Friday night pretty late because of all of the trail running and hiking and all to get to the green sand beach after we jumped off of the cliffs on the end of the island after we went to the black sand beach after waking up in Volcano National park. Yow. Anyway, we get there, and the place is winding down, with only a few stragglers (Kid amongst them, of course, as well as some Texas fellas) including Keoki. As he staggered up to me, this exchange occurred:
Keoki: What team are you on?
Me: I don't know, because I missed the registration and all.
K: I hope you're on the Green Team, because I'm on the Green Team and we're going to win.
M: Well, I hope you're on my team too, because my team is going to win.
K: I'm the fastest player here.
M: Shit! I know I'm not. I guess I won't be covering you.
K: I'm too fast to cover. That's why my team is going to win.
Then there was a boat race, North vs South... and while I'm not sayin the South will never rise again... it certainly didn't this night. It's tough to get to your award-winning anchor to close the race out if you don't get to him.
Anyway, I eventually fell asleep next to he fire that night, and then wandered over to my tent for a bit of real shut-eye before the tournament, and more importantly, before the sunrise. I love sunrises, and the one I saw that morning was no step down at all. Sun coming up over a little bay of black rocks with waves crashing over them. Some good sunrise company. Bigger and Bigger waves, escape from the damn ultimate world again before diving into it fully...
Back to the game against Green. Anyway, they have some players (Including some KILLER women who dominated as handlers) but this Keoki is a killing us. He's quite simply uncoverable. He can't really read the disc, I mean he can, but not perfectly) but that doesn't matter because he gets there before you no matter which route you take. Or which circuitous route he takes. Reminds me of one Danny Clark like that, except Keoki's shorter and able to stand up straight for more than one game without getting massively injured. Although Danny's left-handed. So... I don't know where that leaves us.
Anyway, Green wins and, as I remind my team, this is why we went 5-0 on Saturday. It lets you wake up slowly and sleep-walk your way to the semis on Sunday. Nice. We get to play against the White team in the semis. I think we'll be able to take them.
While there is some exciting play in our game, some great hucks and some sweet Ds, and all of that jazz, White pulls it out simply by outlasting us. They were deeper and their second to third tier players were playing better in this game than ours. We definitely had talent, just not as much. It was a good game though. We got to end it on the classic "Slow-non-running handler jog deep until the first throw goes to him" play. Which was sweet. We lost by 3 or 4, but yet again (for me) my team scored the last point and lost. I really think this rule ought to be changed. I mean, I was put off by it and I didn't even lose a bid to Nationals as a result.
Now worries, now I can finish the Maui Rum and heckle the finals... That's another entry though...
The last bit of the tournament (non heckling non-finals version) is that I was voted my team's spirit player. I got a SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET baby-blue disc and a big-ole beer cup. Maybe a yard or so of plastic beer-holding goodness. I tried to vote for everyone else on my team, because honestly, it was a great team to play with. Very positive, beautiful people who loved being out there and dealt with my ridiculous antics. And for that, I got to go home with a beautiful disc? Nice!
Anyway, that's all for this breakfast typing. My game is improving, my life is improving. I'm at a great place right now-- I just hope I can keep up with my goal of being better as a person and a player and everything every day. Make today better than yesterday. Make today's me better than yesterday's.
(hawaii seven)
(hawaii nine)
Wednesday, March 5
Hawaii Retractions
Due to pressure from Philthy the following Official Ultimatejournal Retractions are made:
1. JP plays for "Your Mother."
2. Thorpe is captain of "Dusty's blog can suck my balls."
3. Eric plays for "This is some Bullshit."
4. Doc is captain of "This is some Bullshit" and only moonlights on Amp.
Friday, February 29
Hawaii Four
In the Car from Spencer Beach Park to Akaka Falls 10:05 AM
The much-maligned (before we arrived) hike to the far fields, where many teams had games due to the mostly-switching fields between rounds format, was actually pretty awesome.
Wow. Great blue views on this drive. Unbelievable. Beach Boys Pet Sounds in the background. Political talk on tap for the drive. Talk of Clinton as Tracy Flick. No energy from Hillary is the end result while Obama is a source of positive vibes. no Fear, no Loathing. Damn HST again.
The first night was fun, but Kid and I agreed that it seemed more tame than what we remembered. No 4-5am mornings. But maybe that was just my sickness coming on and Kid not being so Kiddish?
First game on Day Two was against Skeletor. Many of my team was fantastically hungover. It had to do with a lot of "Ace to Face" and "touch people at the tournament." Both of which were better spectator sports than actual sports during the party. Ace to the Face was a hit. Very literally. Some outsiders got involved and it quickly turned into a motherfucking slapfest. As I told my team earlier, no way I'd be playing that foolsgame when you bastards have had some liquor in you. Especially you, Trash.
Skeletor seemed to be a little more awake than us. Their zone didn't always work the way they wanted it to, or perhaps it worked exactly as they wanted it to only I was completing the crossfield hammers and blades while Bhavin was scoobering. Our real problem was that we were not playing any semblance of defense. If they got a turn, they were assured of converting, and if they received the pull, they were assured of scoring. Whereas we were running pretty well on O, our D was just terrible. Oh well. 15-6? or 7 loss? This would eventually hold the same place as our Nada Mooger Quarters loss in 07.
We then played Big Daddy Kane, who we played in the "pre-Quarters" in an epic battle mentioned in the UPA magazine (Specifically Huge Yum of Amp) last year. Mondo and friends. They're a pretty good team, and we had a spirited game but we were the better team and won by 3 or 4.
Then we played a team from Alaska and surrounding parts and friends or something. I think they played a decent amount of zone. I got a couple of sweet backhand rips off against their tall deep to our short speedy receivers. Those were some funfun throws. I love playing in the wind.
Day two was less successful on D for me as I don't recall getting as many blocks, but in this one I got a pretty sweet skying D on a dump pass which lead to a quick score. That was fun. I like playing well in Hawaii just like I do everywhere else!
We then had a little break after which we thought (originally) that we would not have a game since our loss had come down to keep us company in the bottom pool. Now we were 2-1 in the bottom pool and the team that beat us yesterday by one (Blackfish) was 3-0 in the lower pool with their one point win carrying them to a prequarters game. We, by contrast, had the first round of the beer bracket. Yup, we don't even get to heckle the pre-Q. Or get distracted by it as we had to trek to the other fields. But again, the walk was very nice.
We would now play against He LoLo. Dave (Future Hat Tourney Teammate) explained the pun to me, but I forget it. They're from Hilo, aka the site off the Hat tournament next weekend that a lot of folks who like their frisbee a little too much (like most of my team... including my dumb ass) head over for.
He LoLo is pretty nice and there's a dude in jean shorts who is a little too good for those pants. It is a pretty strong wind at the far fields and that helps us, but doesn't seem to hurt them as much as it does many other teams. Some nice hucks all around, some frustration for the first time on our part. We make it through to the end with a late run of 4 points or so. Back to the pavilion through the nature walk (goats, horses, peacocks, vermin, cats, streams, views, mountains, crazy birds in the distance of indeterminate number, a barking dog!) and then to the ocean.
At some point, I tried to throw a disc to someone near the campsite and cut up my big toe pretty well. Bad times. Had to go back to the trainer and get it taken care of. She was nice, although she seemed like she'd rather be somewhere else. Not really surprising. I wouldn't want to be there either. Better than doing it here than in Minnesota in the winter, but still, I could come up with a better place job to be doing than dealing with idiots like me. She took care of me well though.
Back to the camps, back to the tents, eventually back to the tents that night feeling ill. Without drinking more than a beer an hour or so, that was odd. And then, the rest of the night coughing. Bad times. The next morning I felt completely terrible. That's what happens when you stay up coughing you know.
No stories to tell that day, just "I'm ill but not from alcohol. I was coughing all night." Lovely. I look like the town drunk, and I didn't even get to do the drinking. Ah well.
Wait, we're stopping for construction? They do construction in paradise? It isn't already paradise though? Interesting... Out for now. Maybe more to write later. Maybe this is it. Much camping to do. Nowhere to plug the laptop in. Tournament recapped, save for the last game against Lone Star that I didn't play in and couldn't really watch anyway. That should do it for now. Camping for a week is going to be great. Beaches. Hikes. Cliffs. Highways on the ocean. Black Sand, Green Sand. Stargazing. A Sand Castle Contest in the works. Wines. Jeff Ho's camping culinary expertise. Great music. Goofy games. Just another week lost in paradise.
Mahalo.
(hawaii three)
(hawaii five)
Thursday, February 28
Hawaii Three
Front: Trash, JP, Bhavin, Brandolph, Jeff Ho, Butter, Jimmy
Waikiki, 8am.
I think I just played in a tournament. Or, at least two days of a tournament. The third was spent lying in the shade as often a possible curled up in a ball with at least one teammate taking pictures of my ass. The rest of my teammates were plotting ways to either jump on me when I wasn't looking or give me a good old-fashioned Ace-to-the-Face.
I wish I could say that I missed the last day because I was up too late partying in Hawaii or drinking on the beach or something. But I'd be lying. Instead, I got a cold or flu or something and spent two nights (Saturday and Sunday) coughing up a storm and not sleeping more than a couple of hours. This didn't seem to hurt me too much on day two, but day three... no go. Too much for me to deal with at that point. Ah well.
The tournament was a success on and off the field, as it always is. But most importantly, I DIDN'T MISS MY FLIGHT!!! No worries, no delays, nothing. Now, that being said... some other folks did. Whoops!
10:06am
On the balcony at the Park Beach Club or wherever we are. View of the beach, tiny room, reasonable, but not cheap, rate. That'll do pig, that'll do. Ragoo by the Kings of Leon is a phenomenal anthem-y song with surprising depth of sound.
The first game of the tournament was against Blackfish who are apparently a club team from Vancouver. We went up early with some sweet deep looks and capitalized on their late arrival to the game as we were all so pumped to get our jerseys that we we re there pretty early. And the jerseys were a hit.
Then Blackfish started working harder and running a bit more. They also started doing annoying shit like calling plays. With our team makeup (2007 Teams represented: Pike (Me, my brother), Amp (Furf, Eugene, Butter, Bhavin, Alex, Doc), Puppet Regime (Jimmy, Jeff) Philly Love (Brandolph, Trash), AC/DC? (Kazan) and "Not really playing" (TP, JP, Thorpe)) we were just learning how to play ultimate together and the like. Eventually they got up a bit (4-8?) We made a run of 1-4 or so (with us scoring the last point after the hard cap had blown) to lose 8-9. Shit. With the power-pool format, this could really fuck us. Well, our original plan of going 3-0 the first day and taking day two off for hangovers was shot. We'll have to try for 2-1 and luck.
Next game was against someone. I can't remember who. We beat them pretty well though, I think. 13-9 or so? Nhara Moku maybe? One of their guys was one of the people from our area who missed his flight. Then we had a bye. As usual, this is where the story changes character.
Our team hustles over to the tent to get some of the fantastic barbecue from the guys who come every year and sell barbecue for 4 and 5 dollars under the tent. It is great. The pig is the balls, the chicken is good and all, and so is the fish, but as Doc learned, chicken is for bitches. We all had a beer or two with lunch, because beer is good with lunch. Then we decided that we'd play a couple of hands of drinking hearts which was expected to add a drink or maybe two to everyone's bellies, but not too much. Then it was determined that if someone shot the moon, the three other players would have to down two beers. Seemed unlikely that this could occur in the 4 or 5 hands we were set to play.
After the first hand, there were three people downing two beers.
After the second hand, there were three new people downing two beers.
Damn. New game. I think kings was played with cards like Ace to the Face (Yes, it involves slapping and presages The Mallet Game which the team found much funnier than "the dumb counting game") and Chase Brandolph (Yes, it involves throwing chairs and presages "Touch Crazy Guy" which the team found much easier than "Touch blw"). At this point, it is time for the hike to play Phillbt (which is apparently some kind of sound).
It seemed that I knew guys on this team all over the place from Summer League and Club Open and Club Mixed all in my backyard. Crazy. Fly to Hawaii, play the same people you always play. I figured it would work that way for teams from California and the West Coast in general, but I thought that since we were from the East Coast, that would be less likely.
Ah well. We went up in this game. It was really windy, and Bhavin had some phenomenal throws. Just stunning flicks. On Double Game, a big flick huck of mine caught either a goal or almost goal was called back on a travel. Cool. We complete some throws, then we don't, they march it up to complete their comeback and win by one point. Oops. That'll teach me to travel in Paradise.
1-2 and all but assured of going down to the bottom pool with a loss after we face Skeletor in the morning because my team is planning to slap the hell outta some more faces tonight. I hold out hope that our drops and turfs will decrease on day two. I'm sure our aggressive choices will continue, and I hope that they will. It's more fun to play aggressively and take some well-percentaged chances to good receivers with good throwers. Especially at tournaments like this.
I'll get back to Day Two or possibly night one later. But After this game, we went back for dinner and enjoyed the wildlife walk from the far fields again.
(hawaii two)
(hawaii four)
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