The disc doesn't lie
They have names like Hump, Spanky, Saw, and Hash. To them, I'm D.A. or The Prostituter. If I met them at a party, I'd probably try to find my way to the other side of the room. They call women "bitches". They travel with beer and less legal drugs. They swear like sailors and talk about fecal matter the way my friends talk about words. They're disgusting, childish, and I like them.

I wouldn't want to spend all my time with them, but I spent the better part of two days with them and I enjoyed it, a lot.

Spanky, Saw, Hash, and the rest are Ultimate players. They can do things with the disc that are beautiful to watch. They can make it fly. And they can rip it out of the sky. They pour their guts out onto the field, even if their guts are filled with alcohol.

Inside those cones and occasionally outside as well, we have entered a brotherhood. We trust each other. We won't let the other down. I'll be there streaking down the field when Spanky wants to let one fly. If Saw overthrows me, I'll come back and fight for a "D", trying to force a turnover, so that the brotherhood can live on and Hump can take another shot at it. It's teamwork and it isn't really interested in personality.

I fear I'm giving the impression that this brotherhood has reprehensible brethren. Things are never that black and white. Many of them have charisma like you wouldn't believe. Stuck between the swear words and the fecal matter are truly nice guys. When the whole team became engaged in an argument over whether one member of the team could be half-pirate and half-Indian. Someone loudly asked "Are you born a pirate or do you become one?"

I laughed hard. And it wasn't the only time. I can't tell you why Ultimate players love "Your mom*" jokes, nor can I tell you why they are so funny. But say anything; say, "I like pickles" and an Ultimate player will likely tell you that "Your mom likes pickles."

Whether your mom likes pickles or not isn't the issue, the issue is team. Spend two days with people pouring your heart out in pursuit of the same goal and I think you'll form a bond as well. The bond won't die when the weekend ends. Bonds are stronger than that, even with people you aren't sure you like.

*Moms, it's a joke, please don't take it personally.

An emotional tale
First I have to mention that the team I played with was not a particularly emotional team on the field. A few plays warranted a holler, or a high-five, but very little could make the entire team erupt into a roar.

Second, I have to mention that at the start of each game the team captains will often "flip" to decide things like jersey color, starting side of the field, etc. The flip involves each captain taking a disc and flipping it into the air while a predetermined teammate says "same" or "different". Will the discs land both face up, or one face up and one face down? The correct answer gets to choose the things like jersey color, starting side, etc.

Third, in the interest of full disclosure, I should probably mention that at least some of the beer had been consumed on the sidelines by this point in the day.

Late in the day on Saturday, our captain was flipping near the bleachers the team was seated on. As the discs careened to the ground the entire team watched in silence for a rare moment. One disc landed face up, the other hit the ground and started to roll. It wiggled and wobbled and rolled along the ground and the team seemed to suck in their collective breath as we waited for it to fall. It fell face up, seeming to buck physics in the process and we leapt to our feet in triumph and erupted in cheers. We would continue to wear dark jerseys. It was our finest hour.