Regionals, day 1


Today was strange.

I slept like crap last night, to be greeted with an overcast morning, no breakfast items I could really eat as most were bread or wheat-based (oh, waffles, how do I miss thee? Let me count the ways!).

Guy was there to help with the camera work, so I handed him the video cameras, showed him where the tapes were, and sent him off. A few minutes later, I was handing him my hat and my rain jacket, as the weather was crappy. Yay, Regionals in Burlington, Washington, where even the locals ask, "Why again aren't we having Regionals in California?"

We knew we had to be on this weekend, so we had a long warmup before the first game. Based on how the schedule was, and what we knew about the teams, I planned on playing the first two games, maybe the third game, then stand on the sidelines the rest of the tournament.

Our first game was against Shadrach, the second against Sleepover. Both teams were ranked fairly low in the tournament, both managed a few points on us, I played in both, while Guy used the games to practice videoing and Gillian practiced taking stats.

The third game was against Golden Spike, which gave us a game at Labor Day this year, and beat Brass Monkey at the same tournament. I didn't play in the game against them. We lost 13-15. The game was close the whole time, with our biggest lead at 9-6, and their biggest lead 10-13. Yeah, a 1-7 run for them. We faltered. We faltered, and the game was ugly. Almost every goal was called back on a foul, or travel, or pick, or other call. The wind picked up, and the game was ugly, and we lost.

By the time the fourth game started, I had already taken off my cleats. However, instead of playing Brass Monkey as we expected to play, we played Bozos, from Bosemon, Montana, originally seated 10th. The game wasn't really close. We were disheartened, yes, but they had lost before they even began. Crystal suggested I put my cleats back on, and play a few points, so in I went. I caught one throw just outside the endzone on a swing pass from Shirley, but didn't have the confidence to release the low release throw to Warren who had the perfect continue for me for the score. I had another score called back on a pick call that I mostly disagreed with, having seen my defender on my left as I was starting my cut, when I heard the pick call on my right. However, she said she was picked, so I lost my other goal. Sigh.

The bad thing about the last game was the headache that started in the middle of a point. Instead of my usual both sides migraine, this one was the right-side only headache that sent bolts of pain around the side of my head with every minor effort, such as standing up, running, lifting my bag. Two advil, a meal, and two more advil didn't do much to help it, I'm afraid.

So, we we'll go into Sunday without a first round bye. I think this'll work better for us. We're not always a first day team, and having a good game early on will fire us up.

More psych-up news


Today I received another awesome email from my psych-up buddy.

Hello Kitt,

The alias "kittrules" means you, Kitt Hodsden, rule.

Top Ten Reasons Why You Rule (They're not all ultimate-related, but let's face it you rule in many ways.)

10. You patiently take stats and organize them for impatient polar bears.
9. Who magically gets ice cream in their freezer?! If that's not a sign of good karma...
8. You get your ass kicked so you can kick ass, voluntarily doing extra training at Velocity Sports at the crack of dawn.
7. You "hire" college boys to do "work" every summer.
6. Your forehand is hot. Seriously.
5. You always encourage your teammates, whether they are up, down or just around.
4. Treasurer, webmaster, general has-her-shit-together person!
3. You push yourself hard, a lot harder than most, and even when you think nobody is watching.
2. You ask smart questions during practice to understand what the drills are supposed to simulate.
1. You are so resilient. At times you've been sidelined because of injuries but then you're back again. And again. Stronger than before and ready to go.

Or in your case, ready to RULE.


I lurve my buddy.

Psych-up buddies


Brynne is lots of fun. I'm not sure she knows that. She's very passionate about topics and items of interest to her, and she inspires the rest of us. Take, for example, our team's "anonymous" psych-up buddies. Just like a Seekrit Santa, we pulled names from out of a hat for a teammate to encourage. Who drew who was supposed to be unknown, but some people need help figuring what helps fire up their teammates, so some of the buddies are known to various people. Some people opted out, and some people are overwhelmingly excited about the opportunity to inspire their teammates.

I'm one of the latter.

But I can't post until we're done psyching up for this weekend's tournament. I'm not sure if we'll continue the process through the end of the month, the results being somewhat uncertain at the moment that people want to continue, but I'm very happy that Brynne started the project. I know it's brought fun for me to the team, fun that I've thought was lacking this season. I think i may have to do it by myself all next season, it's been so much fun.

My psych-up buddy started by sending me poetry:

Hi Kitt,

Every day until regionals please expect at least one email from this
address. We begin today with three haiku and a limerick:

Kitt makes savvy cuts
Will she go in or bust long
Defense falters, rues

Kitt plays shut-down D
Think you'll get the disc today?
Try again, sucker

Every time she's in
She plays with verve, style and smarts
That Kitt has gumption

I have a sweet teammate named Kitt
Who besides her peerless wit
Brings zeal and tenacity in every capacity
She's too legit to quit

Your Secret Psyche-Up Buddy (henceforth "spub")

There was a follow up email poem, hinting at who my psych-up buddy might be, but without confirmation, I'm still in the dark. Especially since Doyle made nearly the same statement just before I received the poem:

you might think this is ------------
but i am sneakier than she
and far more daring
that was a red herring

I'm excited for these emails (even if I won't be playing much at Regionals). I'll play the first two days of Saturday for sure. After that, I suspect it'll be slim pickings for me.

Fortunately, I'm good with this career turn of events. Guy is coming up to Seattle to help us with stats and taking videos of the harder competition. I also have an advanced system for taking stats. We'll get the usual stats, but also more defensive stats, as well as location based pass completion information.

Is it bad that I'm as excited about my statistics as I am about playing?


What is it with Andy?


So, what is it with Andy Crews that when he shows up, I fluster and feel like a gangly, uncoordinated teenager? I swear, that man is going to be the death of me one of these days.

We're all at practice today. Andy agreed to be the team's coach, so he was helping out coordinating the practice, keeping us on time, explaining drills, giving pointers, inspiring the lot of us. When he talks, everyone listens, which is absolutely wonderful. When he explains some skill, or some drill, or some finer point to some technique, there is no ego in his explanation: the explanation is very much to help the recipient become a better player. I'm fairly certain we all lurve the Andy. Just lurve him.

During practice, Tyler explained a drill he wanted us to run, one that showed and ingrained certain cuts that are very effective for him. The paper Tyler showed to us had very good explanations for each cut, each change of directions, and the timing of both. It was well written, and clearly well thought out, as the end of the cuts flowed easily into the line of the next step in the drill.

One step of the drill involved faking to the first cutter to signal to the cutter to change direction, as the thrower dumped the disc for a give and go. After the team had run though each of the four steps in the drill several times, Andy started marking the thrower, then following the thrower to put another mark on the upfield throw after the give and go. Simple.

He started by marking other people. Somehow, I managed to avoid being marked by Andy.

Until I didn't.

He flustered me. He always flusters me. I hate that he flusters me. Hate it.

I turned and ran with the disc. I moved until I heard Doyle yell, "TRAVEL!" I stopped, threw the disc to my dump, who was standing in front of a large number of very humoured teammates, then ran for the give and go. I ran as hard as I could, received the disc, turned, and there he was again. My continuation pass was pathetic.

I moved to the side of the field, bent over, and nearly cried from embarrassment. DanO asked if I was okay, which, well, technically, I was. Except for the embarrassment part. Could I curl up into a little tiny ball and disappear? Please?

Beth does this to me, too. I notice her when she's marking me. I don't notice a lot of marks, at least until they handblock me, then I'm way more careful the next time I'm marked, but Beth I notice every time. Though, not as bad as Andy.


Sectionals 2007, day 1


We start the journey again. The fall series starts today, beginning with the Ultimate Players Association's Northern California Sectionals. We finished the day at the top of our pool and the winner of our quarter final game.

More importantly, we danced the best.

Tyler is dumb


When practicing at Cherry Chase a few weeks ago, Tyler rolled his ankle. Rather than taking care of it like any normal person would do, he continued to play on it, and the following weekend, injured it again, as well as the other ankle.

Fine. Well and good, it's his ankle, whatever.

Except last weekend, he played on it AGAIN, in a tournament, and he, what do you know? When you don't rehab an ankle, and you don't even freaking wrap the injured ankle, you injure it again. Is this surprising to anyone but Tyler? Injury + no care = WORSE injury.

Boys are dumb. Especially Tyler.

I've had some bad ankle sprains. Any idea how sucky it is to sprain your ankle playing at a park, start limping home and twist your good ankle in a hole, spraining that one, too? Well, I have a good idea what it's like, and that's the on-going story of my ankle injuries. I get them, I rehab from them, I keep playing.

So, a few days after the tournament, I checked in with Tyler. Had he started his rehab? Was he elevating his foot? Was the ankle always in compression? Was he icing regularly? Did he need any rehab exercises?

Answers? No. No. Yes. No. Heck yes.

I gave him some easy ones, like write the alphabet with your foot as big as you can keeping the knee stationary, using only the ankle joint. Do this once an hour. I also offered gentle resistance exercises with a band. Paul offered standing on one foot, building up to a minute, then doing it with eyes closed. All three brilliant suggestions.

Come practice today, had he done any of them? "I wrote the alphabet twice."


In a week.

When I commented very loudly that no one on the team should enable Tyler's retardness further by throwing with him, he became all pissy about it. Honestly, if a player is going to be retarded, it's the team's responsibility to educate him. If he wants to run after discs on an injured ankle, it's the team's responsibility not to throw to him. If he can't take care of himself, and it's very obvious he can't, the team needs to step up and do it for him. That's pretty much why a team exists: to work together to a common goal.

Our goal should be, "Stop being retarded."

Mischief Colorado Cup recap

From Paul:

Someone want to send a detailed recap? For those who are curious about results:

Although the men's division of colorado cup is divided into Elite and
Open (we were in open), the ladies is in a single division making for
much more challenging competition. They enter the tournament seeded
dead last (12th).

Mischief XX starts off facing the 1, 2, then 4 seeds in their pool,
and drop to 0-3. Although they have some tough losses, they're
starting to show signs of gelling. The ladies have a squad of 12
facing much larger teams, at altitude, and without byes. In the final
game of the day, they fight exhaustion and defeat the Florida team
Layuma (Dorko plays for them now).

Going into Sunday, they need to beat the three seed Box to make
quarters. Box is a local CO team, with lots of practice with the
altitude. Mischief XX shows heart and wins the "game-to-go" and earns
the right to play the undefeated 1 seed in the tournament Rare Air.
Rare Air is another local CO team, and tied for 3rd at nationals last

Mischief XX pulls the upset of the tournament and knocks the 1 seed
out of the tournament! Although I didn't see the game, the ladies
played exceptionally well, proving that you don't fuck with the
national championship mixed ladies.

Following this upset, the tanks are running a little low and the
ladies lose to safari in the semis.

The men came into the tournament seeded 6th, and are the 3 seed in the
A pool (2 pools of 6). We start the day playing a team Smooth Jazz
(also consisting of the men from 2 mixed teams). I watch us go out to
a 5-0 lead, and head off to watch the ladies. Strangely, after I left
we trade points with them. I later hear awesome stories of Wade
dropping pulls while trying to toe a line (what?!), and other
uncharacteristic mistakes. We end up winning 15-9.

On to the 2 seed in the pool Mamabird+ (colorado universities men's
team/alums). They show up with pretty light numbers, and can't run
with us. I think this is probably our best game of the weekend with
great disc movement, defense, and efficiency. Dan O has a hero point
where he gets a layout D, and then skies the crap out of his guy to
shag a poorly placed scoober. We absolutely crush 15-5. Kevin's hucks
are as accurate as I have ever seen this game, often pulling out 70
yard hucks off of a straight-up mark to connect with a streaking

On to the 1 seed in our pool, Sack Lunch. Apparently, these guys were
talking some crap about us being "just a bunch of mixed dudes". We
start the game firing and go out to a 3-0 lead despite more
uncharacteristic drops. The game starts to tighten up towards half
time, and we begin trading points.

Highlight 1 from the game:
Dave (our 6'5" pickup via Nick) goes for an around break mark
backhand. His marker goes for a foot block, and manages to kick Dave
in the forearm. While the disc is in the air:

Dave: "Foul"
Marker: "No contest... Injury. I stubbed my toe.'
Me: "WHAT!!! Dave you are the toughest man alive! Don't kick him in
the nuts, you'll break your foot!"

Highlight 2 from the game:
Doyle chasing a disc that's tailing out of bounds towards the front
cone. He jumps, catches the disc, and throws his toe back to barely
land inbounds. Then he eats shit. Literally. He goes flying out of
bounds into a drainage ditch, where apparently some animal has taken a
shit. As he's sliding, he keeps yelling "NOT WORTH IT!", and then
humps the grass to wipe off.

Mischief XX wins 15-11.

Game 4 against Rawhide, an up and coming club team. They are rolling
deep (probably over 20 guys) and are fairly athletic. We start out the
game fairly well, and earn a 13-8 lead. Then, our deep shots start
getting shut down as they adjust defensively, and we manage to make
things exciting. The game gets to 13-11, when we call a timeout. They
break again to get to 13-12, and we finally score on offense. They
score, then the break, leading to universe point at 14-14. After we
call a timeout to catch our breath, we put in some "fresh legs" and
manage to close the game 15-14.

The next morning, we have Game 5 against the 6 seed in the pool.
Despite only having 9 people show up by the start of the game, we
crush 15-7.

Quarters against another up and coming club team Saw. Saw is similar
to Rawhide in that they have some athletic and tall guys. The game is
probably our worst looking game so far, and we continue to have
trouble scoring from the red zone. Our deep shots aren't connecting
either, and only exhausting defense is keeping us in the game. We end
up going down 8-10 game to 12. We manage to score on offense, and need
to break to stay in it. We break once to tie at 10's, and we need

We bury them in the end zone with a good pull. Our down field defense
has been tenacious all game. It's something beautiful to see 4
defenders all shut down their guys in a ho-stack for 5 minutes
straight. We end up forcing a bad pass, that Kevin catches for the D,
and then decides to throw a blade to no one in particular. I spike my
water bottle.

Saw again has the disc, but again Kevin poaches off his man to catch
the D. This time, he reluctantly swings the disc to Kyle, who throws a
wide open goal. Mischief up 11-10.

We pull to Saw, and again bury them in the end zone with amazing
defense. Again, they throw up a bad dump pass, which Kevin catches for
the game winning Callahan.

We face Sack Lunch again. The game gets started late, and promises to
be very low scoring as points drag on and on with turnovers and calls.
Sack makes 2 terrible calls this game where there is contact following
the play. We take half 8-5, but manage to make things interesting
again and find ourselves at 9-9 game to 10. Again we call a timeout
for rest, score, and eek out the win 10-9.

We have a rematch against Mamabird+ for the finals. They have picked
up some fresh legs for sunday, and we're looking a little tired. The
game moves quickly, as both teams have several quick scores. We start
the game with a defensive break, but they break back and we take half
8-7 on serve.

In the second half, we go out with 2 breaks to go up 10-7, but they
answer to 10-8 and we're looking very tired on defense. Wade has left
the building to catch his flight.

We continue to struggle, and eventually we find ourselves pulling
13-13 (but Wade has returned). Legs fried, Mischief heart keeps people
on their feet. We need to break back, and fast. We put in some "fresh"
legs, and break that point to take the lead 14-13.

At this point, we're down to 12 folks, who have all played about a
million points this tournament. Our tired legs can't stop their
offense, and it's tied at 14's. We manage to score on offense to go up
15-14. The next point, we get a D, and work the disc up field to
within 5 yards of the end zone. Tyler has the disc, looking to jam it
in the corner. Exhausted cutters can't get open. An exhausted thrower
makes a mental mistake and doesn't look dump early enough. A high
stall backhand is eaten up, and Mamabird+ manages to score 15-15.

We answer on offense, 16-15 Mischief XX, game to 17. Our D is really
dragging, and they score easily to tie at 16s. We call our overtime
timeout, and talk things over. We put in a strong O line. Legs fried,
we take our best shot at a deep throw at Kyle, that just misses the
mark. Again, mamabird marches back up field, and wins the game on a
cross field hammer.

For an idea of how tiring this was:

1) 5000+ feet of altitude
2) 13.4 guys (pickup got injured in game 4).
3) 192 points played.

That's an average of over over 100 points played per player without a
single bye.

In my mind, mission accomplished. We proved to ourselves and the
ultimate community that mixed ultimate is no joke. Everyone accepted
the challenge to step up their own game and play in different roles
than they were used to.


And from Shirley:

Good thing I checked before sending my recap! I've written a more detailed
summary that is more XX focused but also has a lot of extraneous on and
off-field stories:


Be forewarned, this is long.

Just wanted to send out a summary of Colorado Cup to inform those who were
absent and to remind those who went of all the crazy ridiculous awesome and
flabbergasting things that happened.

Mischief went to Colorado Cup this past weekend as an experiment, playing as
separate women's (XX) and men's (XY) teams in the women's and open
divisions, respectively. Mischief XY had no trouble getting an open bid
(there was an elite men's division as well), but Mischief XX had to work a
bit to snag a bid into the women's division, though this was mostly due to
administrative miscommunication. Nevertheless, with both bids in place, XX
and XY were primed to make some waves in the non-mixed arenas of Ultimate,
and I think it is safe to say that make waves we did.

Thursday night, most of us party plane it to Denver and made our way to
Trollhaven, the mystery of the mysterious disappearing cooler (stupid polar
bears), one van getting lost for 2 hours, and outrage at the Moonlight Diner
being closed at 11pm notwithstanding.

Friday morning, we tramp over to Uncle Joe's cabin and break our fast with
some delicious berry pancakes and bacon while Mark and Will reminisce about
childhood sibling abuse, Wade contemplates such cheery questions as "If you
knew you'd be ok after a month, would you rather be shot or stabbed?" and
"Would you rather die by drowning or by being choked?", and Tyler continues
hibernating back at Trollhaven. Uncle Joe remarks to Beth that we are a very
attractive group, and that we have very interesting conversations. After
breakfast, we go on a hike to Lake Isabelle, which involves a lot of driving
and a lot of elevation gain. From the trailhead, Mark, Will, Adam, Chris,
Wade, and Beth decide to run to the lake, roughly 2 miles over a mix of
wooded and rocky terrain. Lori, Brynne, Tyler, Steffi, and Shwu decide to
take a more leisurely pace. Despite the cloudy sky and brisk air (it is
10,000 ft after all), the view is amazing. Beautiful waterfalls, a river
through the valley, tasty bluebells all over (especially tasty after
breakfast has been burned off and lunch is nowhere in sight). Mark, Will,
Chris, and Wade decide to climb the mountain above the lake. The rest of us
explore some more waterfalls and then head back to the trail head since it
is getting cold and threatening to rain. Luckily, they make it back just as
we're about to leave. We have a late lunch at the Nepalese restaurant in
Nederland where the chai tea is warm and plentiful. Back at Trollhaven, we
amuse ourselves with archery, watch hummingbirds dive bomb each other,
Steffi and Lori kick Will and Brynne's butts at Rapid Recall, we fire up the
hot tub, sing along to some tunes on the guitar, and attempt to make
brownies without eggs (not recommended). Dan O, M3, Heather, Andy, Paul,
Warren?, and Ariel roll in later that night. Paul and Mark proceed to geek
it out downstairs while Ariel wonders why the hell they won't go to sleep.
Water pump alarm then proceeds to wake everyone except Ariel up every hour
the rest of the night. Much grumpiness ensues.

And then we played some Ultimate. On the women's side, Saturday was a little
rough. First game against Zeitgeist (2 seed in pool), formally known as New
Team. Half is 2-8 or some such, final score 6-15 ish. Just not feeling the
groove yet. Next game against Safari (1 seed in pool), which we also tank,
5-15. We are introduced to Shar, perhaps the bitchiest woman in Ultimate.
Brynne flips with her, and is trying to decide which side we want. Shar:
"Oh, do your men usually do this for you?" Brynne thinks many thoughts, but
answers: "No no. I do this all the time. We'll take that side." Oh the high
road. Usually not the most satisfying road. Brynne later is heckled by the
men, who suggest such comebacks as "Do you know something our men usually
don't do for us? Punch bitches in the face - **BAM!!**". Fortunately, Brynne
gets a second chance, a story for another paragraph. Our third game against
Box Lunch (4 seed in pool) finds XX still struggling, though we've had
glimpses all day of potential greatness. We end up falling to them 8-15. Not
looking so good for XX, though we manage to take each game to soft or hard
cap. Our last game that day is against Layuma, from Florida. Astrid
recognizes many of them and does a great job matching us up on defense. She
also introduces the "game to 3" focus strategy. We finally start clicking
and go on a run or two to make it 14-7. Then Mischief tradition takes over
and we give up 4 in a row before winning on the hard cap, 14-12. Yay! but
oops. Good thing we won those first couple games to 3.

On the men's side, XY makes short work of all their opponents and only have
one close game at 15-11ish. As one poster (who played on the Mamabird alum
team) on RSD wrote: "A 15-5 beating at the hands of a freshly turned OPEN
Mischief team demonstrated that this could be a long weekend for us.
Seriously, these guys KILLED us, ran us in and out, D'd our shit up like we
were standing still! Guess we might have expected that from the Coed
National Champs." Nice work, boys! And thanks for coming over to all our
games to cheer us on.

As the last round wraps up and the showcase game gets going, it begins to
rain. Hard. Some might call it a torrential downpour. XX struggles to take
down the shade tent and carry everything across the fields to the parking
lot, only to realize that the men have the car keys (>_<) and by then all of
the available shelter is completely crammed with other Ultimate players.
Shwu and Beth make a run to grab team pizzas, and then wonder where to put
them. 15 min later, the rain lets up and XY, who were all huddling under
their shade tent with the babies in the middle of the fields, slowly make
their way to the parking lot under the shelter of the tent. Many lessons
learned, but one is that Patagonia shorts dry amazingly fast.

Saturday night the team socializes and celebrates Kyle and Emily's wedding
anniversary with cake and champagne. Kyle and Emily receive a very beautiful
and thoughtful bouquet of sunflowers.

Sunday morning, the team gets a late start, with XX not beginning their warm
up until 20 min before the game starts. It's the last pool play game against
the 3 seed in the pool, Showdown, a team from TX. Winner goes on to the
championship bracket and quarterfinals. Taking our winning strategy of games
to 3, we come out strong against Showdown and take the first half 8-4.
Showdown isn't sure what to do - they're athletic and getting D's but then
not connecting and giving the disc right back. XX plays some good O to
maintain the lead, eventually making it 14-9 ish?? with the cap on. The
boys, having just won their game to get to the quarters, come over to watch,
and XX starts another second half slump, giving up a few before finally
pulling through. We rejoiced at advancing, and then realized we had to play
another game in 5 minutes against the 1 seed in the tournament in the
quarters, Rare Air. Rare Air is the top women's team in Colorado, and has
always won this tournament.

Utterly exhausted (did I mention we had the smallest squad at the
tournament?), we nonetheless looked forward, made some concrete goals, and
stepped out on the field to meet them. 6 points later, it's 4-2 XX and Rare
Air is wondering what the hell is happening. They call a time out, try to
regroup and throw a zone. We shred it. They don't throw zone again. Another
7 points later, XX takes half 8-5. XX spends half cheerful and relaxed, just
getting rest, while Rare Air frantically strategizes. In the second half, XX
serves them up more of the same - confident O and high-pressure D - and all
of a sudden it is 12-8 XX. The hard cap comes on during the next point, but
everyone seems oblivious to (or too tired to notice) the fact that the game
is effectively over and XX is going on to semis. A hell point ensues with
multiple turnovers on both sides, but Rare eventually scores to make the
final tally 12-9 XX. The 1 seed Rare Air just lost on their home turf to the
12th seed in the tournament. XX now faces Safari again in the semis.

Before XX gets any chance to rest, Shar comes over to Shwu and Brynne to
flip. Shar sees Brynne, smirks and says something to the effect of "Do you
need to call your boys over to help you with this?" Brynne: "You know, I was
nice to you yesterday, I don't think I can be so nice today." Shar
reiterates her statement. Uh oh, game over. Brynne cocks her head and goes:
"I'm sorry. Do you have a national title? Because I do." Shar: "You don't
have a national title. You play coed. That's not a national title." Brynne:
"Hold on, are we the 12th seed, and now we're playing you in the semis?"
Shar: "Did we just beat you yesterday?" Brynne: "Did you _see_ us play
today?" Shar: "Are you ready to flip?" Brynne: "I'm sorry, I can't flip with
someone with your attitude." And Brynne walks off. Shwu flips and chooses to
pull. Shar says "Ok, so let's get started right now."

So XX gets back on the field, fired up to play. The game is interesting,
with one catty exchange where Shar insists on a re-pull twice in a row on
one point and then XX calls a re-pull on the next. But with players at the
end of their physical abilities, XX couldn't win this one. At 14-6 the soft
cap goes on, and things look grim, but XX defiantly scores the next two
points before Safari closes it out 15-8. Safari goes on to lose to Zeitgeist
in the finals, 15-12.

On the men's side, XY has eked out a semifinal win on universe point against
Sack Lunch and are now playing Mamabird again in the finals. They go up
early but Mamabird has picked up a few guys and begins to battle back until
it is 8-7 XY at half. There is a lot of hucking in this game from both
sides, which is hardly surprising, but the long looks don't seem to be
connecting as much for XY as they did on Saturday. Mamabird takes it to
13-13, at which point they trade points into overtime, and then into double
game point at 16-16. XY turns it over on a long look that was just a touch
too touch-less. Mamabird works it down, XY holds them off in front of the
endzone for a while, but can't get the turn back. Mamabird wins 17-16.

Later that evening, Mark, Megan, Chris, Shwu, and Mirabelle see Kyle and
Emily's car at the gas station. "Hey, it's Kyle and Emily!" We call out,
"Kyle Smith! You suck Kyle Smith!" No answer; they don't seem to have heard.
Then, ".... wait. Did they just throw out the flowers we gave them!?!?
Bastards!!" So we wait for them to leave, and then grab the flowers from the
trash. At the airport, we join 50 other bay area Ultimate players in the
longest security line ever, see Kyle and Emily about 7 snakes ahead of us,
and do a hand off of the flowers to Tyler to Safdie to some random lady to
Warren to Kyle and Emily who laugh, and then promptly dump the flowers in
the TSA trash checkpoint. But we're not bitter, not at all....

So there you have it. XY rolls almost every team on their way to the Open
finals and go to universe point against a who's who of Boulder Ultimate, XX
knocks out the 1 seed home team in the quarters to finish in the top 4 of
the women's division. Huge shout outs to everyone who came, we all played
our hearts out and definitely left everything on the field. It's hard to
remember another tournament where I played that much that hard and felt that
good at the end of Sunday.

Go Mischief!!


Less worry


After yesterday's practice, and Tyler rolling his ankle on the soft ground, I was a bit worried about what the team would think about my recommending the fields to begin with.

After today's practice, I'm not so worried.

Beth went down in the first fifteen minutes to a back spasm and knot that she couldn't relieve. Mark went out about halfway through practice with a heart palpatation. Ryan pulled his groin. Adam Brown had a spectacular block, but had lifted his arm too high and may have torn what was repaired in surgery back in April, losing 3 months of recovery. Chucky pulled something in his legs, and went out, too.

We finished practice playing 4 women each side, as the men were playing savage.

I don't know if the double practice or the fields, or both, contributed to the rash of injuries today, but I'm worried less about the yesterday's fields now.

Double practice weekend


Today is the start of the team's second double practice weekend. We played over at Cherry Chase, which is so nice and close to home. The fields are normally great, but today they were damp and soft. Laying out was easier on the bodies of those who actually threw themselves at the ground, but Tyler went out with a rolled ankle mid-practice. His injury made everyone suspicious of the fields, "Hazard disc!" being more common than up calls after that.

With Tyler's ankle sprain, I feel guilty about suggesting the fields. They're close to our house, so way convenient for us. I don't think they're bad fields, and other fields were full (Baylands, other parks). Given the many complaints and comments from the sidelines, however, I think I'll be keeping this field space to myself.



Well, bound to happen.

Better sooner than later.

As I reached with a double fisted claw catch for a disc thrown by Will, the wind jerked he disc just over my outstretched hands, and pushed it down after passing over my arms.


I stood still for a moment before I realized the sound I had just heard was about to be followed by the sound of my wailing. The disc had landed squarely on the bridge of my nose, and it hurt. A LOT.

I sat down, as Will rushed over. "Are you okay? Are you okay? Did that just hit you in the face?" he asked.

"I don't know. Let's see," I responded, clearly still in surprise. I took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully out my nose, my hands blocking my face.

The handful of blood immeduately showed me that, no, I was not okay.

I sat out during the first drill and waited until the blood stopped running from my nose. I was able to run a little bit, but not much, which was probably good, as my legs ached a bit from yesterday's workout.

I'm thinking now, sure, I should have pancaked that catch. It was windy, and I was standing directly in the path of the disc (a habit I've been trying to develop, actually). But this isn't the first time a disc has hit me in the face, where other people can go an entire career without any discs in the face.

I guess if I'm going to have injuries this season, better to get them out of the way early in the season, rather than late in the season.