Well, there's a lot to say. It's also, unfortunately, very exhausting to play three games, write the recap for USA-U and then go bloggin' around so bear with me a bit if you're hankerin' for some intel.
Quickly the two most notable things at Nationals today.
1) the era of unabated partying, the clubby camaraderie of belonging to "Nationals" and slamming down unlimited beers from the beer tent in grand appreciation of friends, the wonderful Florida weather and sun, and a great many toasts to the intrinsic fun of playing ultimate -- is over. Many a beery evenings spent with many lower-seeded teams, volunteers, writers and just damn good partiers will likely never return. It was a simple thing, made sense, and was probably needed for insurance purposes (ahhh, that evil but necessary insurance thing) but the new USA Ultimate officially nixed free beer. Now, it's 2 bucks. Budweiser and Modelo Especial, in very small cups. In a specific area.
Basically it's over. It's ok, we've been going to this split for awhile: fun, party tournaments and competitive, non-partying tournaments. In my memory it first took root at Regionals in Devens, outside Boston. There's a clubhouse there and the parties were great. Abut 8-9 years ago, they stopped, and Regionals became the only tournament I knew that withheld the time-honored Saturday-night party.
Well, you can add the USA-U Club Championships to that list. It's been a gradual process and the writing was on the wall. Last few years the beer-drinking was ghettoized. Now it's effectively gone.
Of course you can still drink cans of beer on the field so its not like we've totally gone down the rabbit hole.
2) The big fun matchup tomorrow may be the top scorer from Worlds, the unstoppable force Matsuno from Buzz Bullets playing on Furious George, playing against the only man known to have actually stopped him, Beau Kittredge from Revolver, in the upper pools tomorrow. Should be exciting!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Nationals: Report from USA Ultimate
hung out at the captains meeting for the USAU Championships. Fairly remarkable, in my opinion
New director of the USA-U, Tom Crawford, basically confirmed that the mainstreaming of ultimate has fully been set in motion. Changing the name from the Ultimate Players Association to USA Ultimate was a clear step to make the sport more appealing, less cult-ish, and more in line with Olympics sports.
What surprised me was how fully behind the name change Crawford (and by extension, ultimate) really is. So far this year he's tackled just about every major issue head on and he's done so with vigor.
Last week USAU announced the Beach was going to be a division within ultimate for 2011. Thats a pretty big step.
At the captains meeting, he presented the fact that USA-U is actively enticing sponsors (he named but didnt name a confectionary company, a sports-beverage company, and others), that the numbers of Youth participants has, for the first time, out-numbered all others combined, has convinced CBS Sports to come down and take a look at the Club Championships with an open eye towards acquiring broadcast rights, signed an extension with CBS College Sports to continue and increase the coverage of College Nationals, and announced that the USA-U would host the "U.S. Open" which would invite international teams to compete against (presumably) top U.S. teams.
All of this, frankly, is a long time coming and all of this makes perfect sense. But it's being ramped up now, super-fast and it's impressive.
There are two things now in play which haven't been in play for ultimate in 20 years at least.
First is the Olympics -- this is a long-held dream of many an ultimate player. It makes sense on the most basic level: the Olympics sell the idea of sportsmanship and fair competition for all men and women from all countries. Sort of a basic principle of humanity thing.
Yet the Olympics has been about much more than that, it started as a geopolotical event and remains so. The Olympics is concerned with money and TV ratings, money to feed the every-hungry revenue stream for Olympic cities and the worldwide media coverage. And ultimate, we knows, has no truck with money (or advertising, or any of that).
But I will say this: Crawford has that dream of Ultimate in the Olympics wrapped inside his head. As he and members of the new USA Ultimate team have for a long time served on Olympics sports boards (Volleyball, Cycling, others) the Olympics is more a reality to them than to us.
And they are trying to bring it to the sport and they seem to really mean it.
The Olympics was debunked by the head of the UPA in 1990 (Nob Rauch) who sat in on USO meetings and actively pursued what it might take for ultimate to make it. All signs pointed to "no chance" (for various reasons, the most prevalent being -- its a team sport and the IOC cant pay for team sports, it doesnt have refs, it isnt in enough countries, it doesnt draw revenue or advertisers and other team sports are "ahead" of it).
So can Crawford revive, for real, the dream? It's in his head and he's running at full speed. It's interesting.
Second is the holy grail/cursed sword of ultimate: money. We've never had it, we never will. That's my perspective and and it's been tried trued and tested for 40 years.
But everything here has a subtext. Beach Ultimate. The US Open. CBS Sports, increased advertisers and sponsorship. All this either needs money or creates money.
It's there somewhere, the money. Paid athletes? Maybe just maybe something is happening and we don't even quite know what it is.
New director of the USA-U, Tom Crawford, basically confirmed that the mainstreaming of ultimate has fully been set in motion. Changing the name from the Ultimate Players Association to USA Ultimate was a clear step to make the sport more appealing, less cult-ish, and more in line with Olympics sports.
What surprised me was how fully behind the name change Crawford (and by extension, ultimate) really is. So far this year he's tackled just about every major issue head on and he's done so with vigor.
Last week USAU announced the Beach was going to be a division within ultimate for 2011. Thats a pretty big step.
At the captains meeting, he presented the fact that USA-U is actively enticing sponsors (he named but didnt name a confectionary company, a sports-beverage company, and others), that the numbers of Youth participants has, for the first time, out-numbered all others combined, has convinced CBS Sports to come down and take a look at the Club Championships with an open eye towards acquiring broadcast rights, signed an extension with CBS College Sports to continue and increase the coverage of College Nationals, and announced that the USA-U would host the "U.S. Open" which would invite international teams to compete against (presumably) top U.S. teams.
All of this, frankly, is a long time coming and all of this makes perfect sense. But it's being ramped up now, super-fast and it's impressive.
There are two things now in play which haven't been in play for ultimate in 20 years at least.
First is the Olympics -- this is a long-held dream of many an ultimate player. It makes sense on the most basic level: the Olympics sell the idea of sportsmanship and fair competition for all men and women from all countries. Sort of a basic principle of humanity thing.
Yet the Olympics has been about much more than that, it started as a geopolotical event and remains so. The Olympics is concerned with money and TV ratings, money to feed the every-hungry revenue stream for Olympic cities and the worldwide media coverage. And ultimate, we knows, has no truck with money (or advertising, or any of that).
But I will say this: Crawford has that dream of Ultimate in the Olympics wrapped inside his head. As he and members of the new USA Ultimate team have for a long time served on Olympics sports boards (Volleyball, Cycling, others) the Olympics is more a reality to them than to us.
And they are trying to bring it to the sport and they seem to really mean it.
The Olympics was debunked by the head of the UPA in 1990 (Nob Rauch) who sat in on USO meetings and actively pursued what it might take for ultimate to make it. All signs pointed to "no chance" (for various reasons, the most prevalent being -- its a team sport and the IOC cant pay for team sports, it doesnt have refs, it isnt in enough countries, it doesnt draw revenue or advertisers and other team sports are "ahead" of it).
So can Crawford revive, for real, the dream? It's in his head and he's running at full speed. It's interesting.
Second is the holy grail/cursed sword of ultimate: money. We've never had it, we never will. That's my perspective and and it's been tried trued and tested for 40 years.
But everything here has a subtext. Beach Ultimate. The US Open. CBS Sports, increased advertisers and sponsorship. All this either needs money or creates money.
It's there somewhere, the money. Paid athletes? Maybe just maybe something is happening and we don't even quite know what it is.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
A Nationals Preview
I actually posted this to rec.sport.disc but because it's so priceless I am re-posting here to fill up space in preparation for the Big Show.
This is not actually a preview of the USA Ultimate Club Championships. In case you were wondering.
it's an example of one of the worst articles ever written on ultimate, and that's saying something because there are plenty to choose from. I found it in my archives while doing research for the mockumentary script on ultimate soon to be, uh, finished!
Bonus points if you can count the number of errors: grammatically, stylistically and factually. I stopped counting myself.
----
'Flatball' Wizards
BY JIM MERRITT, Newsday
May 23, 2004
Remember when Frisbee was a rite of spring as cool and undemanding as catching rays in the campus quad or hanging out at the rathskeller?
Well, hold onto your hackysacks: Now, Frisbee is a fledgling intercollegiate sport at Hofstra University in Hempstead and Adelphi University in Garden City, and its players are clamoring for respect.
"I don't think [people] appreciate how hard it is to throw a Frisbee well, and the conditioning it takes," says Aaron Bjerke, 21, of Alexandria, Minn., a junior communications major and member of Adelphi University's Frisbee team.
The 25-member Hofstra team, formed last fall by A.J. Pave, 22, a history major from Holliston, Mass., prefers to call the sport "ultimate disc" or flatball. The team matched discs against Northeastern in Boston and Penn State before ending its first season earlier this month.
Ultimate disc "is fun and very, very competitive," says Michael Chan, 22, of Baldwin, a Hofstra player who specializes in airborne grabs.
The laid-back rules set by the Seattle-based Ultimate Players Association prize sportsmanship over winning. (For those keeping score, Hofstra beat Adelphi in three out of four games this year.) Players toss the disc down the field and score a point in the end zone, not unlike soccer. Disputes on the field are settled by the players themselves, but clashes - and crashes - are inevitable.
"I get really bad turf burns just from diving," says Seth Dellon, 20, the Hofstra co-captain with Amy Ostroff, 20. Dellon says this disc deserves respect - and maybe even equal footing with other varsity sports.
Whoa, dude, say varsity athletes.
"More power to these guys that they are really excited about their sport," said Thomas McCormack of Rockaway Point, a senior sports management major at Adelphi and guard for the varsity men's basketball team. "But, in all honesty, collegiate basketball and football can't be compared to Frisbee."
Which goes to show you, Dellon said, "We don't get respect from anybody."
This is not actually a preview of the USA Ultimate Club Championships. In case you were wondering.
it's an example of one of the worst articles ever written on ultimate, and that's saying something because there are plenty to choose from. I found it in my archives while doing research for the mockumentary script on ultimate soon to be, uh, finished!
Bonus points if you can count the number of errors: grammatically, stylistically and factually. I stopped counting myself.
----
'Flatball' Wizards
BY JIM MERRITT, Newsday
May 23, 2004
Remember when Frisbee was a rite of spring as cool and undemanding as catching rays in the campus quad or hanging out at the rathskeller?
Well, hold onto your hackysacks: Now, Frisbee is a fledgling intercollegiate sport at Hofstra University in Hempstead and Adelphi University in Garden City, and its players are clamoring for respect.
"I don't think [people] appreciate how hard it is to throw a Frisbee well, and the conditioning it takes," says Aaron Bjerke, 21, of Alexandria, Minn., a junior communications major and member of Adelphi University's Frisbee team.
The 25-member Hofstra team, formed last fall by A.J. Pave, 22, a history major from Holliston, Mass., prefers to call the sport "ultimate disc" or flatball. The team matched discs against Northeastern in Boston and Penn State before ending its first season earlier this month.
Ultimate disc "is fun and very, very competitive," says Michael Chan, 22, of Baldwin, a Hofstra player who specializes in airborne grabs.
The laid-back rules set by the Seattle-based Ultimate Players Association prize sportsmanship over winning. (For those keeping score, Hofstra beat Adelphi in three out of four games this year.) Players toss the disc down the field and score a point in the end zone, not unlike soccer. Disputes on the field are settled by the players themselves, but clashes - and crashes - are inevitable.
"I get really bad turf burns just from diving," says Seth Dellon, 20, the Hofstra co-captain with Amy Ostroff, 20. Dellon says this disc deserves respect - and maybe even equal footing with other varsity sports.
Whoa, dude, say varsity athletes.
"More power to these guys that they are really excited about their sport," said Thomas McCormack of Rockaway Point, a senior sports management major at Adelphi and guard for the varsity men's basketball team. "But, in all honesty, collegiate basketball and football can't be compared to Frisbee."
Which goes to show you, Dellon said, "We don't get respect from anybody."
Heading Back to Sarasota
Soon to be live from Sarasota: the 2010 USA Ultimate Club Championships.
Or what we used to call "Nationals."
I will be there with the Masters team Rumble in Pool B and covering the division for USAU. Expect some posts regarding Masters and other divisions as well, not to mention ephemera and anecdotes, as per the course.
Or what we used to call "Nationals."
I will be there with the Masters team Rumble in Pool B and covering the division for USAU. Expect some posts regarding Masters and other divisions as well, not to mention ephemera and anecdotes, as per the course.
Friday, August 13, 2010
37 over 27 and 44 + 44
For those who've known me for a while this won't be surprising. I'm the ripe old age of 37 which means I'm well into Masters territory. After 22 years of playing ultimate I should be worn down. However, i think i am unquestionably a better player now than when I was 27. I'm faster (this is oddly true), smarter with my decisions, I get most of the 50/50 discs, I can guard people better and I never suffer from a lack of confidence. For me, 37 is the new 23 and the 27 year old me was just plain lousy.
There are numerous factors in my reverse-aging process. First I was diagnosed with an old man's colon disease about 4 years ago. Doctors told me to prevent the attacks that sent me to the hospital I would have to change my diet. Fatty foods would have to go.
In about a year and a half I lost 35 pounds. Furthermore I started eating healthier foods which helped my energy levels and my overall fitness. For instance, i eat grilled chicken instead of hamburgers and I stay away from cheese sauces, pizza and fried foods. After 30+ years it is hard to change your diet and lifestyle but I had to do it.
As this happened I started to notice I was quicker on the field, faster even. Certainly I was as light as my senior year in high school, yet unlike high school where I was more on the gangly side I have come to "grow into my body." Also I wasn't getting tired as often. I could run longer and play more points.
My mind and body work in sync now, my delay time on hand-eye coordination has been reduced. I understand how my body works best and how I can get the optimum on the field. Furthermore after all these years I have a great understanding of the action on the field, when and where throwing lanes are appearing, how to position myself on hucks (both O and D) and other such things.
I still make plenty of mistakes -- old habits can be hard to break -- but overall there's no doubt that my game now is better than it's ever been and this has been something of a renaissance time for me.
While I'm on the subject of numbers, two days ago number 44 Roy Oswalt pitched for the Phillies who won over the Dodgers 2-0. And then in my somewhat cheesy, somewhat pointless, and perhaps typically unnecessary post of a week ago, number 44 Kenneth "Free Kate Newburgh" Dobyns evidently accepted my facebook friend request along with 20+ others.
Honestly, just writing that is so silly, so I think i will stop.
Just remember one thing: you're never too old to improve in ultimate and never too old to keep trying new things. And if you haven't already changed your diet, give it a shot. It's difficult but rewarding.
There are numerous factors in my reverse-aging process. First I was diagnosed with an old man's colon disease about 4 years ago. Doctors told me to prevent the attacks that sent me to the hospital I would have to change my diet. Fatty foods would have to go.
In about a year and a half I lost 35 pounds. Furthermore I started eating healthier foods which helped my energy levels and my overall fitness. For instance, i eat grilled chicken instead of hamburgers and I stay away from cheese sauces, pizza and fried foods. After 30+ years it is hard to change your diet and lifestyle but I had to do it.
As this happened I started to notice I was quicker on the field, faster even. Certainly I was as light as my senior year in high school, yet unlike high school where I was more on the gangly side I have come to "grow into my body." Also I wasn't getting tired as often. I could run longer and play more points.
My mind and body work in sync now, my delay time on hand-eye coordination has been reduced. I understand how my body works best and how I can get the optimum on the field. Furthermore after all these years I have a great understanding of the action on the field, when and where throwing lanes are appearing, how to position myself on hucks (both O and D) and other such things.
I still make plenty of mistakes -- old habits can be hard to break -- but overall there's no doubt that my game now is better than it's ever been and this has been something of a renaissance time for me.
While I'm on the subject of numbers, two days ago number 44 Roy Oswalt pitched for the Phillies who won over the Dodgers 2-0. And then in my somewhat cheesy, somewhat pointless, and perhaps typically unnecessary post of a week ago, number 44 Kenneth "Free Kate Newburgh" Dobyns evidently accepted my facebook friend request along with 20+ others.
Honestly, just writing that is so silly, so I think i will stop.
Just remember one thing: you're never too old to improve in ultimate and never too old to keep trying new things. And if you haven't already changed your diet, give it a shot. It's difficult but rewarding.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Time Out, Time In
For two weeks now, and I wonder if I could count the days, likely if I tried, I have not played any ultimate. It's a time out.
I had played something like 4 or 5 weekends in a row, including a ten-day tour of duty at Worlds. Followed by the hat tournament in Austria and then Wildwood -- both of which tournaments have shorter games -- and I computed my July 2010 record to have been 21-10, not counting two forfeits in my favor, a television appearance on Austrian TV which I am declared one the greatest players in the world, and the game of mini mini won by myself, X and Q at the Five tent.
When you play that much ultimate, you need a break. But when you play that much ultimate you also have the drug in your system. You're going to need to play again.
And soon.
And how.
This weekend I have nothing on my ultimate calendar and it is starting to gape at me, wide-eyed, barren, my cleats lie in wait. My body starts to get antsy -- I do try to keep up with the joneses by riding in alleycats from time to time or just pretending to when I haul into the city on my mudder, the Gary Fisher -- but it's not quite the same. There's little reciprocity. Not much sideline jocularity. No crossfield hammers to Coe alone in the endzone.
I'm not running, jumping, jacking the pull. It hurts to even write about it in the summer and not do it.
Well it is New York and options abound. I've got other things to do, plenty to keep me busy (my short film won a film festival this past weekend, so that career path may materialize and push ultimate further away). I've got family coming in next week, friends from out of town this week, and a puppet movie to help with in two weeks.
All that being said...still.... cleats are ready, disc is at hand....
Time In.
I had played something like 4 or 5 weekends in a row, including a ten-day tour of duty at Worlds. Followed by the hat tournament in Austria and then Wildwood -- both of which tournaments have shorter games -- and I computed my July 2010 record to have been 21-10, not counting two forfeits in my favor, a television appearance on Austrian TV which I am declared one the greatest players in the world, and the game of mini mini won by myself, X and Q at the Five tent.
When you play that much ultimate, you need a break. But when you play that much ultimate you also have the drug in your system. You're going to need to play again.
And soon.
And how.
This weekend I have nothing on my ultimate calendar and it is starting to gape at me, wide-eyed, barren, my cleats lie in wait. My body starts to get antsy -- I do try to keep up with the joneses by riding in alleycats from time to time or just pretending to when I haul into the city on my mudder, the Gary Fisher -- but it's not quite the same. There's little reciprocity. Not much sideline jocularity. No crossfield hammers to Coe alone in the endzone.
I'm not running, jumping, jacking the pull. It hurts to even write about it in the summer and not do it.
Well it is New York and options abound. I've got other things to do, plenty to keep me busy (my short film won a film festival this past weekend, so that career path may materialize and push ultimate further away). I've got family coming in next week, friends from out of town this week, and a puppet movie to help with in two weeks.
All that being said...still.... cleats are ready, disc is at hand....
Time In.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Number 44 Not Yet my Facebook Friend
In my world, there's two number 44s which sounds like a church schism. There's the legendary number 44 worn by my friend and former teammate Kenneth Dobyns and then there's the new guy: Roy Oswalt, bringing his small frame but outsized stature, his will to win and the number 44 to play for the team I was raised on, the Philadelphia Phillies.
Keneth44 lives a few scant blocks away from me in South Brooklyn. He's in Bay Ridge and I'm just on the other side of the expressway in Sunset Park. It's a minor distinction. If I had thought about it in advance or been made aware, I might have joined the Westchester Summer League this year because I could have gotten rides from Bay Ridge to SUNY Purchase. It's a haul, believe you me, and the main reason I am not playing summer league this year is that drive-time. But Ken is there and in WUDi, I discovered later this summer. It could have been so easy.
I'm not sure if Ken would say we're friends. Close friends -- certainly not -- but we've spent some quality time together and he has been a mentor to me and many others. I consider him someone to look up to, someone who's seen more of the world and isn't afraid to tell us what the view is like.
We've been in phone contact, email contact, we share close friends on both coasts.
But when it comes to Facebook, this apparently isn't the case. We aren't friends on Facebook. I checked again today. I check everyday, every hour, every time I can, waiting slavishly to get the notice "Kenneth Dobyns has accepted your friend request!"
There's that picture of Ken right there on FB, wearing a fedora at a Yankees game. He always loved the Yankees, was a die-hard fan. I am speaking in the past tense, of course, because I feel I have lost a friend. Next to Ken's smiling visage it says, "awaiting friend confirmation"
We have 37 friends in common, including a certain Jose Invencio who I'm not sure anyone in New York has actually met and whose stated goal in life is to help start a referee-type ultimate league on the East Coast separate from the Mike Gerics/Toad Leber triangle of shame. It's a positively quixotic quest and it's comically doomed to obsolescence.
But I digress. See, Facebook doesn't make Ken and I friends or non-friends. That's a little silly. It's Facebook. I have friends I've never met, Friends of Friends I've never met. I'm a bit of a friend whore, racking up 800 people in my own little niche of the world.
I don't mind the numbers. I like people, I enjoy Facebook, i like stories and seeing snapshots of different people's lives. This entertains, inspires and grounds me all at the same time. It's a simple thing.
My opinion of Ken will not change if he never accepts my FB request or if he reads this post and accepts me tomorrow (ok, honestly, if he reads this blog post and accepts my FB request tomorrow, my opinion of Ken WILL change -- for the worse).
Kenneth44's blog titled "You DIdn't Here It From Me, But..." has long been a great read. I love how his posts aren't just ramblings. They are stories with a beginning, a middle and an end. They are smart, sometimes savage, and they are precise. Reading Ken has always been an enjoyable experience, dating back to the last time I played summer league with him, in the 90s. He wrote insightful and analytical profiles in the WUDi newsletter, a double-sided one-sheet photocopied 60 times and handed out in the parking lot after games.
I wanted to fashion my infrequent blog after Ken's style of writing. I'd like to be clear, concise and sometimes controversial. Perhaps throw in a 50 cent word from time to time and to always have a beginning, middle and end.
With or without that Facebook confirmation. Because in the meantime I have a new number 44 friend in Roy Oswalt, with or without Facebook...
Keneth44 lives a few scant blocks away from me in South Brooklyn. He's in Bay Ridge and I'm just on the other side of the expressway in Sunset Park. It's a minor distinction. If I had thought about it in advance or been made aware, I might have joined the Westchester Summer League this year because I could have gotten rides from Bay Ridge to SUNY Purchase. It's a haul, believe you me, and the main reason I am not playing summer league this year is that drive-time. But Ken is there and in WUDi, I discovered later this summer. It could have been so easy.
I'm not sure if Ken would say we're friends. Close friends -- certainly not -- but we've spent some quality time together and he has been a mentor to me and many others. I consider him someone to look up to, someone who's seen more of the world and isn't afraid to tell us what the view is like.
We've been in phone contact, email contact, we share close friends on both coasts.
But when it comes to Facebook, this apparently isn't the case. We aren't friends on Facebook. I checked again today. I check everyday, every hour, every time I can, waiting slavishly to get the notice "Kenneth Dobyns has accepted your friend request!"
There's that picture of Ken right there on FB, wearing a fedora at a Yankees game. He always loved the Yankees, was a die-hard fan. I am speaking in the past tense, of course, because I feel I have lost a friend. Next to Ken's smiling visage it says, "awaiting friend confirmation"
We have 37 friends in common, including a certain Jose Invencio who I'm not sure anyone in New York has actually met and whose stated goal in life is to help start a referee-type ultimate league on the East Coast separate from the Mike Gerics/Toad Leber triangle of shame. It's a positively quixotic quest and it's comically doomed to obsolescence.
But I digress. See, Facebook doesn't make Ken and I friends or non-friends. That's a little silly. It's Facebook. I have friends I've never met, Friends of Friends I've never met. I'm a bit of a friend whore, racking up 800 people in my own little niche of the world.
I don't mind the numbers. I like people, I enjoy Facebook, i like stories and seeing snapshots of different people's lives. This entertains, inspires and grounds me all at the same time. It's a simple thing.
My opinion of Ken will not change if he never accepts my FB request or if he reads this post and accepts me tomorrow (ok, honestly, if he reads this blog post and accepts my FB request tomorrow, my opinion of Ken WILL change -- for the worse).
Kenneth44's blog titled "You DIdn't Here It From Me, But..." has long been a great read. I love how his posts aren't just ramblings. They are stories with a beginning, a middle and an end. They are smart, sometimes savage, and they are precise. Reading Ken has always been an enjoyable experience, dating back to the last time I played summer league with him, in the 90s. He wrote insightful and analytical profiles in the WUDi newsletter, a double-sided one-sheet photocopied 60 times and handed out in the parking lot after games.
I wanted to fashion my infrequent blog after Ken's style of writing. I'd like to be clear, concise and sometimes controversial. Perhaps throw in a 50 cent word from time to time and to always have a beginning, middle and end.
With or without that Facebook confirmation. Because in the meantime I have a new number 44 friend in Roy Oswalt, with or without Facebook...
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Wildwood 2010
You come for the party, you leave with an empty wallet.
You come for the sand, the boardwalk, the walking legions of wiz-made bodies, the SpringShot, the taffy (ok, that's a lie, no one comes for the salt water taffy anymore) the 99 cent pizza, the rollercoasters, the drinking, the mild debauchery, the water parks, the rusty nails, jam bands, monster trucks and this year's top-line shirt (a pinnie, aka a reversible sleeveless basketball-style mesh jersey) that read in big block letters COME AT ME, BRO.
Startin' fights on the boardwalk at Childwood? Naw, too much fun to be had otherwise.
I've had my share of good times and good stories to tell from the annual beach extravaganza that is Wildwood, now with 436 4-on-4 teams this year. My father lives just down the road, i've been to this tournament with two ultimate girlfriends over the years, I've been on near-championship teams and championship beer bracket teams. This year was more of the same, i suppose, but different.
I didn't party much. I played well with the ATL boys and girls, a good bunch of folks. The tournament got a carton of my books, 68 of them, and sold none. I played, i think, in 11 games over the weekend which ties a record for me. The goal, of course, is to play as often as possible. It is sand after all, even if the sand was baking hot (99 degrees in the air on Sunday, hotter on the surface) and my feet got shredded on Saturday so badly that I had to wear tennis shoes, but STILL -- it's Wildwood. It's fun in the sun and it shouldn't end.
But everything comes to an end.
And then when you leave there goes the $200 a night hotel room, minimum 3 nights. The $25 SpringShot ride. The countless dollars spent trying to win a SpongeBob SquarePants stuffed animal at the basketball carney game. The $26 Shrimp Bonanza (George Carlin would call this one out) that had 6 pieces of battered and fried shrimp and 6 naked shrimps from a supermarket platter. The cases of beer, the gas and tolls to spend countless hours on interstates an the Garden State Parkway, the $300 tourney fee split between ten teammates. The money, it goes, usually, but this year I stayed clear of all that.
It's a beach town and a beach summer and you're there for action. The action was had.
You come for the sand, the boardwalk, the walking legions of wiz-made bodies, the SpringShot, the taffy (ok, that's a lie, no one comes for the salt water taffy anymore) the 99 cent pizza, the rollercoasters, the drinking, the mild debauchery, the water parks, the rusty nails, jam bands, monster trucks and this year's top-line shirt (a pinnie, aka a reversible sleeveless basketball-style mesh jersey) that read in big block letters COME AT ME, BRO.
Startin' fights on the boardwalk at Childwood? Naw, too much fun to be had otherwise.
I've had my share of good times and good stories to tell from the annual beach extravaganza that is Wildwood, now with 436 4-on-4 teams this year. My father lives just down the road, i've been to this tournament with two ultimate girlfriends over the years, I've been on near-championship teams and championship beer bracket teams. This year was more of the same, i suppose, but different.
I didn't party much. I played well with the ATL boys and girls, a good bunch of folks. The tournament got a carton of my books, 68 of them, and sold none. I played, i think, in 11 games over the weekend which ties a record for me. The goal, of course, is to play as often as possible. It is sand after all, even if the sand was baking hot (99 degrees in the air on Sunday, hotter on the surface) and my feet got shredded on Saturday so badly that I had to wear tennis shoes, but STILL -- it's Wildwood. It's fun in the sun and it shouldn't end.
But everything comes to an end.
And then when you leave there goes the $200 a night hotel room, minimum 3 nights. The $25 SpringShot ride. The countless dollars spent trying to win a SpongeBob SquarePants stuffed animal at the basketball carney game. The $26 Shrimp Bonanza (George Carlin would call this one out) that had 6 pieces of battered and fried shrimp and 6 naked shrimps from a supermarket platter. The cases of beer, the gas and tolls to spend countless hours on interstates an the Garden State Parkway, the $300 tourney fee split between ten teammates. The money, it goes, usually, but this year I stayed clear of all that.
It's a beach town and a beach summer and you're there for action. The action was had.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Up Next: Wildwood
I guess it's good to get out of the house in July. Especially during a multiple-continent heat wave.
So I played in hot Prague, then to steamy southern Austria where Zen and the Art of Team Building got us a first-place talisman and little bit of good karma. More on the Zen later.
And now to Wildwood, again, playing with two teams who picked me up at the very last minute -- this week. I wasn't going to go, I even told people I was canceling my team (which I did). My knee is a bit wobbly, a lateral muscle strain from the last tournament. I've played 20 games on grass in the last 20 days.
But its Wildwood. Sand. The circus atmosphere. Family and friends will be there and everyone from New York and Philly, not to mention half of Boston and half of DC.
I'll put a knee brace on and try my luck. I could end up with glory, or I could finish with regrets.
But hey it's good to get out of the house...
So I played in hot Prague, then to steamy southern Austria where Zen and the Art of Team Building got us a first-place talisman and little bit of good karma. More on the Zen later.
And now to Wildwood, again, playing with two teams who picked me up at the very last minute -- this week. I wasn't going to go, I even told people I was canceling my team (which I did). My knee is a bit wobbly, a lateral muscle strain from the last tournament. I've played 20 games on grass in the last 20 days.
But its Wildwood. Sand. The circus atmosphere. Family and friends will be there and everyone from New York and Philly, not to mention half of Boston and half of DC.
I'll put a knee brace on and try my luck. I could end up with glory, or I could finish with regrets.
But hey it's good to get out of the house...
Monday, July 19, 2010
Blauer Burgunder wins Pig Me Up 2
As advertised, the Styrian-style pig roast was tremendous. The large hog-on-a-spit was expertly turned by a man of similar color and demeanor as the pig and received a standing ovation for his slow-cooked masterpiece.
Outside of that, the team I ended up on called "Blauer Burgunder" after a local red wine, somehow and somewhat improbably, won the tournament. As per usual hat-tournament protocol we had a melange of players.
Soni was 16 and heading to U-23's the next day, as was Ami. Vale, 14 years old with money throws and quick cuts. Frischi, the veteran engineer from Vienna. Izi, our co-host for the tournament and a wonderful handler. Flixi -- his first tournament ever and now his first tournament win. We worked out the forehand before the second-to-last game on Sunday. We had Martini, a short quick handler-type woman who we called in as a handler, only to find out at the Saturday-night party that she had been playing ultimate for now her 5th month. Richey, a burly flag-football player with "the heart of a lion" according to Tommy, my friend from back home who has been living in Vienna now for a year.
As you can tell, we decided at the first game to have everyone's name end in the "y" or "it" sound. So that made Veronica a Veronicky which became "Key" which when I called her in the wing of the zone never quite worked because I don't think she had ever been called "Key" before, but that was ok. Flixi was really a Felix, Ami an Amadeo and Martini a Martina. It was nice. We were a team!
We had Andrea (Andi) for a half-day and then there was René, whom I called either Reeny or Rene or something like that. And there was James who we had to call Jamey of course, a lanky lefty from Australia. I hope I am not missing anyone. Will have to look at the pics.
We played zone the entirety of our last two games on Sunday which ended up being a semifinals (winner of that game would make the finals) and then the finals. In the finals we played a team that went up on us 6-2 and won 6-4 in a sloppy game which they clearly got the upper hand behind a basically un-guardable Erik Doesburg, also known in certain circles as "that tall blonde Dutchman from Mouthful of Sand/Gronical Dizziness." He won MVP/MBP (Most Beautiful Person) at the tourney, and deservedly so. I tally up to 6’4 and change but hand to hand he had a full hand on me and rang up as 6’6” at least.
We won the finals on double-game point, 7-6 on a sweet lefty backhand deep huck from Jamey to Ami. It was a nice way to end the trip to Worlds and meet some super fantastically cool, fun, vibrant and new-to-the-game southern Austrian players. It was like a mini-Poultry Days, with teams camping out, the pig roast, the beer and wine, the communal atmosphere. Wonderful.
Outside of that, the team I ended up on called "Blauer Burgunder" after a local red wine, somehow and somewhat improbably, won the tournament. As per usual hat-tournament protocol we had a melange of players.
Soni was 16 and heading to U-23's the next day, as was Ami. Vale, 14 years old with money throws and quick cuts. Frischi, the veteran engineer from Vienna. Izi, our co-host for the tournament and a wonderful handler. Flixi -- his first tournament ever and now his first tournament win. We worked out the forehand before the second-to-last game on Sunday. We had Martini, a short quick handler-type woman who we called in as a handler, only to find out at the Saturday-night party that she had been playing ultimate for now her 5th month. Richey, a burly flag-football player with "the heart of a lion" according to Tommy, my friend from back home who has been living in Vienna now for a year.
As you can tell, we decided at the first game to have everyone's name end in the "y" or "it" sound. So that made Veronica a Veronicky which became "Key" which when I called her in the wing of the zone never quite worked because I don't think she had ever been called "Key" before, but that was ok. Flixi was really a Felix, Ami an Amadeo and Martini a Martina. It was nice. We were a team!
We had Andrea (Andi) for a half-day and then there was René, whom I called either Reeny or Rene or something like that. And there was James who we had to call Jamey of course, a lanky lefty from Australia. I hope I am not missing anyone. Will have to look at the pics.
We played zone the entirety of our last two games on Sunday which ended up being a semifinals (winner of that game would make the finals) and then the finals. In the finals we played a team that went up on us 6-2 and won 6-4 in a sloppy game which they clearly got the upper hand behind a basically un-guardable Erik Doesburg, also known in certain circles as "that tall blonde Dutchman from Mouthful of Sand/Gronical Dizziness." He won MVP/MBP (Most Beautiful Person) at the tourney, and deservedly so. I tally up to 6’4 and change but hand to hand he had a full hand on me and rang up as 6’6” at least.
We won the finals on double-game point, 7-6 on a sweet lefty backhand deep huck from Jamey to Ami. It was a nice way to end the trip to Worlds and meet some super fantastically cool, fun, vibrant and new-to-the-game southern Austrian players. It was like a mini-Poultry Days, with teams camping out, the pig roast, the beer and wine, the communal atmosphere. Wonderful.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Up Next: Austrian Hat Tournament
Lots of good stories at Worlds, from Colombia, Japan and Mike O'Dowd and the Long List of Whores (previously just a legend that I heard from Rick Collins). I met Elroy Jetson from the Polish team Grandmaster Flash, i met Tushar Singh, got to talk to WFDF prez Potts for a bit, Tom and Sandie and Peri from USAU and of course the Five crew (note: World Champions in mini Mini are the team of me, Xtehn and Qxhna after spotting Lucas, Adam and Mike a 4-goal lead).
The Czech organizers did an amazing job in my opinion. My broadcast partner and GOP founder Bryn Perkins, Lucia, Carlos, Honza, Jana the TD, Bart, the Strizna TV crew -- i am still not sure how they managed two gigantic field complexes in two totally different locations but they did. The buses ran, the fields were all lined, the schedules were effective, the score keepers (did you see the stats?!) were nice and they took their jobs seriously. It sounds like a small thing but it made a big difference.
I heard the dormitory-style dorms were less than swank, but when your team signs up for the "dorm option" at a European tournament you should expect to be in a dorm. So hey, in this case they were Soviet-built. Welcome to Prague!
My next stop is the self-styled Styrian hat tournament in Southern Austria. I'd like to promise updated blogs about the 9 teams but its a camping tournament in a town called Kirchberh-am-Raab so I'm not really counting on wifi from the fields or anything. And thank god for that.
Thanks to everyone who complimented the broadcasts we did. It can't be said enough that the Strizna TV/webcast crew was ultra-professional and very much on the ball. I heard the cameramen and crew came out to a Czech team scrimmage before Worlds to learn how to cover ultimate. It really shows -- they got the pulls, they followed the d's and nailed the instant replays. They were so good it was almost invisible -- but if you've watched the state of ultimate videos in the last, uh, 42 years you won't see anything like this.
It was always an unproven theory that ultimate would be exciting to watch if it was shot properly. Well, i think that theory was proven true. Again -- you can click on the links on the right to watch the videos. They will be up for some time, a month or so...
And finally a shout-out to my team O.L.D.S.A.G. aka One Last-Ditch Shot at Glory, Philadelphia masters. This may have truly been the team's last-ditch shot. With a thin squad of 20 that was whittled to 16 by the end, with four players added just for this tournament, and without a set offense or defense that you could identify, we beat seed and finished 5th. Disappointing perhaps that our 5-2 pool play record tied us with Munich (who we beat) and Helsinki (who we lost to) but lodged us in 4th because of point differential, thus sending us to quarters against Surly and an early exit from our attempt to return to Finals.... but hey, i think we left it on the field and can be proud.
That last sentence was poorly written but it's late at night and Styria is coming up. It just means more to come I reckon.
The Czech organizers did an amazing job in my opinion. My broadcast partner and GOP founder Bryn Perkins, Lucia, Carlos, Honza, Jana the TD, Bart, the Strizna TV crew -- i am still not sure how they managed two gigantic field complexes in two totally different locations but they did. The buses ran, the fields were all lined, the schedules were effective, the score keepers (did you see the stats?!) were nice and they took their jobs seriously. It sounds like a small thing but it made a big difference.
I heard the dormitory-style dorms were less than swank, but when your team signs up for the "dorm option" at a European tournament you should expect to be in a dorm. So hey, in this case they were Soviet-built. Welcome to Prague!
My next stop is the self-styled Styrian hat tournament in Southern Austria. I'd like to promise updated blogs about the 9 teams but its a camping tournament in a town called Kirchberh-am-Raab so I'm not really counting on wifi from the fields or anything. And thank god for that.
Thanks to everyone who complimented the broadcasts we did. It can't be said enough that the Strizna TV/webcast crew was ultra-professional and very much on the ball. I heard the cameramen and crew came out to a Czech team scrimmage before Worlds to learn how to cover ultimate. It really shows -- they got the pulls, they followed the d's and nailed the instant replays. They were so good it was almost invisible -- but if you've watched the state of ultimate videos in the last, uh, 42 years you won't see anything like this.
It was always an unproven theory that ultimate would be exciting to watch if it was shot properly. Well, i think that theory was proven true. Again -- you can click on the links on the right to watch the videos. They will be up for some time, a month or so...
And finally a shout-out to my team O.L.D.S.A.G. aka One Last-Ditch Shot at Glory, Philadelphia masters. This may have truly been the team's last-ditch shot. With a thin squad of 20 that was whittled to 16 by the end, with four players added just for this tournament, and without a set offense or defense that you could identify, we beat seed and finished 5th. Disappointing perhaps that our 5-2 pool play record tied us with Munich (who we beat) and Helsinki (who we lost to) but lodged us in 4th because of point differential, thus sending us to quarters against Surly and an early exit from our attempt to return to Finals.... but hey, i think we left it on the field and can be proud.
That last sentence was poorly written but it's late at night and Styria is coming up. It just means more to come I reckon.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Competition is Over: All that is left is T-shirt Trading and Ceremonies
the kind where the winning Gold, Silver and Bronze medalists basically hang around aimlessly on the fields for pictures, cold beers and colored necklaces with tinted medallions.
In the stands everyone eyes everyone else's shirts with envy. Can i get a Sockeye shirt? What about that Magon one? Who got lucky with the Vigi 2006 shirts? Is there a Buzz Bullets shirt without the Bunka Shutter logo?
etc etc.
Most of all, already, I miss the competition. It's been great to play at this high level with a good bunch of guys who competed every day on the field and never gave up. We finished 5th overall, one ahead of seed, and won our last game so we can leave the tournament with our heads up.
I hope to be back four years from now for another Worlds but it's never easy getting here and i'm sure there will be more things going on in my life.
Right now the cheers and the medalists are still going -- Buzz Bullets get a hearty cheer for their third-place finish. Basically, no one wants to leave. Why would they? Free entertainment, cheap beer, cool shirts everywhere, cute girls and guys, a nice stadium -- we're all just waiting to crash, basically, or at least throw down some more good pilsner before an early rest.
In the stands everyone eyes everyone else's shirts with envy. Can i get a Sockeye shirt? What about that Magon one? Who got lucky with the Vigi 2006 shirts? Is there a Buzz Bullets shirt without the Bunka Shutter logo?
etc etc.
Most of all, already, I miss the competition. It's been great to play at this high level with a good bunch of guys who competed every day on the field and never gave up. We finished 5th overall, one ahead of seed, and won our last game so we can leave the tournament with our heads up.
I hope to be back four years from now for another Worlds but it's never easy getting here and i'm sure there will be more things going on in my life.
Right now the cheers and the medalists are still going -- Buzz Bullets get a hearty cheer for their third-place finish. Basically, no one wants to leave. Why would they? Free entertainment, cheap beer, cool shirts everywhere, cute girls and guys, a nice stadium -- we're all just waiting to crash, basically, or at least throw down some more good pilsner before an early rest.
Trading: Sockeye 9 Revolver 13
excitement slowing down, teams trading, we shall see if sockeye can get their second wind.
Sockeye gives up 4 in a row: Revolver 9, Sockeye 6 half
that sums it up pretty well -- Sockeye can't get a groove as Revolver converts and is now looking good. Question is: will Sockeye have another burst of energy left in them for the second half?
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