Graceful victory
It's been a long time since I've been on the winning end of a blowout. It was a pleasant 15-4 league game victory. It probably would have been less satisfying if I hadn't played an hour of Ultimate prior. It was nice to feel in synch, nice to get a D on command, nice to get help from the sidelines, and nice to be playing on a Fall day. Yet, the nicest things of all took place off the field in a hug, in a car bomb, and in a Mongolian BBQ. I play the game for a lot of reasons, but today community came out on top, in a blowout. Glug, glug, glug.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Tarheel country
Big Ed's at the City Market was not exactly my intended lunch time destination. I got off a plane and set off with my daypack full, running shoes poking out of the water bottle carriers. I wore my green safari/fatigue/sport coat and my red cap. The sun south of here was hotter than I expected. The bus ride longer. Then, I didn't factor in the extra loop through the airport. Public transit isn't the answer other places. I arrived downtown, wandered to the city market, and stumbled onto Big Ed's. Corn bread, country ham, food was the way to get acclimated.
I had the afternoon to myself. Completely. No one but me knew where I was. Even I didn't know where I was going. I was carless, bikeless, and now not so keen on the bus. I walked. I walked through historic Oakwood where the porches of my dreams framed house after house. I longed for sweet tea and quiet company, but only kept the latter. I wandered on the outskirts of a cemetery, past the dead of Raleigh, on my way back to the capitol. I had loose plan, but I didn't know the scale of my map or when I'd left it. My watch had broken and so I told time in foot pains and hunger pangs. I toured the history museum, closed according to the information booth lady, where I found a 1920s pharmacy sans soda jerk and the North Carolina Sports Hall of Fame sans Air Jordan. Still thirsty, still curious, I walked on to an avenue speckled with bars not ready to open. Not knowing quite how I would get to my hotel for the night, I continued to walk. On foot, I found my bus route into town and stopped at LocoPop. It was all I could expect from a shop just outside the campus of NC State. Part ice cream shop that served only popsicles and part art gallery that catered only to elementary art school classes, I chewed through a mango-papaya pop and rested.
Renewed by the popsicle, I carried on through campus, but no longer felt quite so at home as I have in years past. As I neared the highway, I began to except that my nomadic, public transit fueled dreams were coming to a close. Stumbling on a pay phone in between the dilapidated Pizza America and the crusty car repair joint, I called for a cab. It took some leafing through an attached phone book, but I was pleased to note that the entire world had not passed me by. After my quiet afternoon as a big city adventurer, I had to wonder if in fact I was actually gaining.
Big Ed's at the City Market was not exactly my intended lunch time destination. I got off a plane and set off with my daypack full, running shoes poking out of the water bottle carriers. I wore my green safari/fatigue/sport coat and my red cap. The sun south of here was hotter than I expected. The bus ride longer. Then, I didn't factor in the extra loop through the airport. Public transit isn't the answer other places. I arrived downtown, wandered to the city market, and stumbled onto Big Ed's. Corn bread, country ham, food was the way to get acclimated.
I had the afternoon to myself. Completely. No one but me knew where I was. Even I didn't know where I was going. I was carless, bikeless, and now not so keen on the bus. I walked. I walked through historic Oakwood where the porches of my dreams framed house after house. I longed for sweet tea and quiet company, but only kept the latter. I wandered on the outskirts of a cemetery, past the dead of Raleigh, on my way back to the capitol. I had loose plan, but I didn't know the scale of my map or when I'd left it. My watch had broken and so I told time in foot pains and hunger pangs. I toured the history museum, closed according to the information booth lady, where I found a 1920s pharmacy sans soda jerk and the North Carolina Sports Hall of Fame sans Air Jordan. Still thirsty, still curious, I walked on to an avenue speckled with bars not ready to open. Not knowing quite how I would get to my hotel for the night, I continued to walk. On foot, I found my bus route into town and stopped at LocoPop. It was all I could expect from a shop just outside the campus of NC State. Part ice cream shop that served only popsicles and part art gallery that catered only to elementary art school classes, I chewed through a mango-papaya pop and rested.
Renewed by the popsicle, I carried on through campus, but no longer felt quite so at home as I have in years past. As I neared the highway, I began to except that my nomadic, public transit fueled dreams were coming to a close. Stumbling on a pay phone in between the dilapidated Pizza America and the crusty car repair joint, I called for a cab. It took some leafing through an attached phone book, but I was pleased to note that the entire world had not passed me by. After my quiet afternoon as a big city adventurer, I had to wonder if in fact I was actually gaining.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Ultimate dominates headlines
There are few things that I've been thinking about more than Ultimate lately, so if I do manage to get something up in this space, it's probably going to be Ultimate-related. I will give out a fine anecdote that includes Sir Mix-a-lot (reference) before I return to the subject at hand.
I was in line for dinner last night and the side dish was red beans and rice. My mind was churning, but I couldn't quite come up with my thoughts. I turned to my friend and said, "I'm trying to think of that Sir Mix-a-lot lyric." I trailed off, hummed a few bars to myself, "something red beans and rice din't miss her." The girl in line in front of me turned around and exclaimed, "I was thinking the same thing." I ordered a plate full, but they missed her.
Back to Ultimate- I should try to use this space to work out the challenges of teaching new players and experienced players the game at the same time. Or I should write about my feelings of inferiority when it comes to verbalizing my thoughts on the game in a practice or huddle session. Instead, I'm going the selfish route and focusing on last weekend's personal highlights. There weren't a lot. The team was out-numbered and comparatively inexperienced and as a result we struggled. I quietly went about my business and didn't see a lot of action. I handled more than I usually do and while I didn't find this as stressful as I expected it to be, it really confirmed my preference to cut. I'm ok with running around more and touching the disc less. On defense, I played ok, but I often found my layout attempts to be a tad late and a tad short. I was talked out of my first highlight when I let a player with worse perspective determine that I was out of bounds on a scoring catch. At this point, almost a week later, I'm not sure if I slid in, caught the disc, and then clipped the line or if I slid in, clipped the line, and caught the disc. Still, I'm frustrated by this mainly because I know the exact moment when he won his case. He said something like, "I mean, you can have it if you want." and shrugged his shoulders. I didn't want his pity point. I wanted it outright. The team would get one, and only one, later against one of the best teams I've ever faced, but mine was gone and at least in part because of my struggle to think clearly in a conflict.
My two favorite moments of the day were 1. on a outside in backhand that curled just into the path of my teammate for a wicked layout score. and 2. hollering at the rookie to keep him cutting back and forth and back and forth, until he finally ended up with his first score.
Sunday, we played one of the local Masters teams and it appeared we had finally met our match. Still, they jumped out to an early lead. We came back, but neither team was playing that well. Mistakes were being made all over the place. They had one guy who seemed to think I wasn't there and he threw it within a step of me on at least two occasions. I grabbed those. I had a nice battle going with one of their other players. On one point he was covering me and had a bead on the disc on my in cut. He knocked it away and it fluttered in the air. Crawling on the ground, I lunged for it, stretched out my arm through the grass, and smiled gratefully as the disc landed in my hand. Later, on that point or one soon after, I was covering my man and I had a bead on his in cut. Jazzed from the earlier play or tired of running, or still feeling the Wildwood vibes of my plaid skirt, I launched myself into the air and caught a layout D. Impressive, except for the fact that the offender was probably 10 feet away. The other good moment in the game was in a zone. The handlers swung the disc, got it to the rookie on the sideline, I raced over to get a short pass and then turned and sent a flat backhand down the line for-ev-er. Our team speedster tracked it down with a ridiculous layout grab in the back corner of the endzone. Sweet. None of this was enough for us to notch a win on the weekend.
Still, losing Ultimate is better than no Ultimate. Lots better.
There are few things that I've been thinking about more than Ultimate lately, so if I do manage to get something up in this space, it's probably going to be Ultimate-related. I will give out a fine anecdote that includes Sir Mix-a-lot (reference) before I return to the subject at hand.
I was in line for dinner last night and the side dish was red beans and rice. My mind was churning, but I couldn't quite come up with my thoughts. I turned to my friend and said, "I'm trying to think of that Sir Mix-a-lot lyric." I trailed off, hummed a few bars to myself, "something red beans and rice din't miss her." The girl in line in front of me turned around and exclaimed, "I was thinking the same thing." I ordered a plate full, but they missed her.
Back to Ultimate- I should try to use this space to work out the challenges of teaching new players and experienced players the game at the same time. Or I should write about my feelings of inferiority when it comes to verbalizing my thoughts on the game in a practice or huddle session. Instead, I'm going the selfish route and focusing on last weekend's personal highlights. There weren't a lot. The team was out-numbered and comparatively inexperienced and as a result we struggled. I quietly went about my business and didn't see a lot of action. I handled more than I usually do and while I didn't find this as stressful as I expected it to be, it really confirmed my preference to cut. I'm ok with running around more and touching the disc less. On defense, I played ok, but I often found my layout attempts to be a tad late and a tad short. I was talked out of my first highlight when I let a player with worse perspective determine that I was out of bounds on a scoring catch. At this point, almost a week later, I'm not sure if I slid in, caught the disc, and then clipped the line or if I slid in, clipped the line, and caught the disc. Still, I'm frustrated by this mainly because I know the exact moment when he won his case. He said something like, "I mean, you can have it if you want." and shrugged his shoulders. I didn't want his pity point. I wanted it outright. The team would get one, and only one, later against one of the best teams I've ever faced, but mine was gone and at least in part because of my struggle to think clearly in a conflict.
My two favorite moments of the day were 1. on a outside in backhand that curled just into the path of my teammate for a wicked layout score. and 2. hollering at the rookie to keep him cutting back and forth and back and forth, until he finally ended up with his first score.
Sunday, we played one of the local Masters teams and it appeared we had finally met our match. Still, they jumped out to an early lead. We came back, but neither team was playing that well. Mistakes were being made all over the place. They had one guy who seemed to think I wasn't there and he threw it within a step of me on at least two occasions. I grabbed those. I had a nice battle going with one of their other players. On one point he was covering me and had a bead on the disc on my in cut. He knocked it away and it fluttered in the air. Crawling on the ground, I lunged for it, stretched out my arm through the grass, and smiled gratefully as the disc landed in my hand. Later, on that point or one soon after, I was covering my man and I had a bead on his in cut. Jazzed from the earlier play or tired of running, or still feeling the Wildwood vibes of my plaid skirt, I launched myself into the air and caught a layout D. Impressive, except for the fact that the offender was probably 10 feet away. The other good moment in the game was in a zone. The handlers swung the disc, got it to the rookie on the sideline, I raced over to get a short pass and then turned and sent a flat backhand down the line for-ev-er. Our team speedster tracked it down with a ridiculous layout grab in the back corner of the endzone. Sweet. None of this was enough for us to notch a win on the weekend.
Still, losing Ultimate is better than no Ultimate. Lots better.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Proud of the Internet
Social networking is swell, online journals are neat, maps, movies, and tv at my fingertips is magical, but the site that makes me proud to know the Internet is The Huddle. It's Ultimate-related and it poses questions to some of the games big names and minds. Those minds then answer the question and the knowledge just drips off the page. It's amazing and exactly the sort of collaboration that makes everybody better. Their most recent installment is on the UPA Board of Directors election. If I could find a presidential election site that did this well, maybe I'd feel better about that vote too.
I'm awed and so appreciative of this gift.
Social networking is swell, online journals are neat, maps, movies, and tv at my fingertips is magical, but the site that makes me proud to know the Internet is The Huddle. It's Ultimate-related and it poses questions to some of the games big names and minds. Those minds then answer the question and the knowledge just drips off the page. It's amazing and exactly the sort of collaboration that makes everybody better. Their most recent installment is on the UPA Board of Directors election. If I could find a presidential election site that did this well, maybe I'd feel better about that vote too.
I'm awed and so appreciative of this gift.
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