Psych-up buddy made me cry


My psych-up buddy made me cry this morning with last night's email. I told Kris about the crying. His reply went something like, "Are you crying? Are you CRYING? There's no crying in psych-up!" a takeoff of one of our favorite quotes from A League of Their Own when Tom Hanks' character says, "There's no crying in baseball!"

Ah, another baseball reference. My life is full of them.

I hope you've been having too much fun with Ben and Lisa in Seattle to
notice how late this note is. It's still technically Thursday though! And
this one will be longer than the others.

Have I told you that I can see the future? Here is the play-by-play for the
start of this weekend:

It's Saturday. Game day. You're getting ready with the team and you're
feeling...nervous. It's only natural. Regionals is a big weekend; these are
the games that count. Maybe you're worried that those injuries will flare
up. Perhaps you're thinking about how much wheat you've eaten lately. To
make matters worse, it's cold and rainy. Bleagh.

All of a sudden, you snap out of your funk and look around. You are
surrounded by a sea of red. Not a brooding maroon or a frivolous magenta.
No, a bright scarlet. It's in-your-face, take-no-prisoners, no-guts-no-glory
red. The color of blood, of fire engines, ripe apples, fire, life. Red is
not just what we see in anger, but also in passion. And we are nothing if
not passionate. We are Mischief and we are bound together by our insane
passion for ultimate. Every week we spend hours training our bodies,
analyzing the game, practicing our skills and counting down to the next time
we play. Now that is fucking love.

With these thoughts your body starts feeling warmer, softer, like butter
being spread on toast. You feel as if you've put on clothes straight from
the dryer. Yeah, sometimes these people damn near drive you insane but
you're comfortable with them; they are your friends as well as your

A drill begins. Your body hesitates. Have we really finished warming up? Am
I ready?

There isn't time to doubt now. Only time to cut, catch and throw. You thrust
yourself onto the field and wait your turn at the drill.

Immediately as you begin running your legs spring away from the ground like
you were stung by get-up-and-go. You feel light and powerful. And best of
all you feel completely in control.

The disc goes up. It's coming hard and fast at your face. A normal person
would duck or put up a hand to block it. But you were never content with
normal, Kitt. Normal doesn't suit you, it bores you. So, using the leg
muscles you've built from those painful mornings at Velocity Sports, you
jump up and reach for the disc.

CLAP! That's the sound of a classic, confident pancake. The disc is in your
hands and you know exactly what to do with it. A split-second after your
beautiful catch, you've let off a marvelous throw for the score. Now that is
veteran decision-making.

TO BE CONTINUED...You'll notice that the scenario above is incomplete. I've
only described the part leading up to the first actual game.

Kitt, I know you will make some magic on the field this weekend and it would
take a gajillion hours to write about all the extraordinary things that
you'll do. So instead of telling you what those things are I'll end by
spelling out the Kitt Rules.

The Kitt Rules
- O: Whenever I am in the game I am running hard, going all-out. Every step
I take is part of a cut, whether in or long. Sure, I'll clear space for
others when it's right...but damnit, most of the time I'll be cutting like a
madwoman so they'd better put it to me.
- D: When I am supposed to be on defense I will play like I am on offense.
The disc belongs to me, not that girl on the other team. And I will make
sure she doesn't get it. It is MINE.
- Me: I will have utter faith in myself. I am always more amazing than I

Go get'em.


Continuing psych-up buddy messages


My psych-up buddy is keeping tabs on me:

Subject: Bon Voyage

Spud see that you are leaving for Seattle this evening.

Spud sad that will not be able to deliver gifts to Susan Way in time.

Spud will reveal self at Regionals and give a plethora of surprises.

Keep checking your email...though Spud know you will with all your gadgetry.

Though, the humor value is great:

Subject: How did Spub change to Spud?

Spub = Secret Psyche-Up Buddy
Spud = Secret Psyche-Up Dumbass


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?