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(now if only I could actually think of a suitable title)

Myself, I blame the WSOP

You really know shit's gonna go down when even the bridge world goes crazy. Oh those old ladies, what will they do next!

Personal highlights: "This isn't a free speech issue."

“By trying to address these issues in a nonviolent, nonthreatening and lighthearted manner [they] were doing only what women of the world have always tried to do when opposing the folly of men who have lost their perspective of reality.”

“I earn my living from bridge"

The Ascent of Stan

Here I am again, four hours before I set out for an ultimate tournament and still not asleep. Slave to some sort of quasi-karmic law prevents any ultimate player from sleeping the night before. Or maybe it's that 4 hour nap I took earlier today.

Tomorrow's some sort of Hat Tournament hosted by Prion Ultimate, a mixed team based out of Illinois that got 3rd in Mad-isc-on. Due to funding problems we had to sacrifice a tournament in either the spring or the fall. Naturally we chose the fall, thus a hat tournament rather than a full team one (for 15$ + gas is a pretty good deal I thought, although the 5 hour drive is a bit much). Roughly six of our players are going, three of our better ones, so hopefully this will help them get over the plateaus we've gotten ourselves into.

It occurs to me that I never updated about Glory Days, I should probably do so. I'm thinking I'm going keep this short, quasi-karmic laws be damned, I'm going to get at least 2 hours tonight.

Our pool consisted of Loyola, Missouri B, Western Kentucky and Northwestern. My pre-tournament predictions were something like 13-15 Loyola, 15-6 over Mizz B, 15-10 over Western Kentucky, and 7-15 Northwestern. Unfortunately these were based upon UPA rankings, turns out are much more fluid than I expected. Overall we came in thinking we could put in a solid bid for the champion's pool, but we were missing our key defensive freshman for a wedding, and our third best player (Cartier) due to a lacerated kidney. The kidney thing was a bit of a bummer.

We got to the fields before most of the teams, but for some reason our warm-ups continue to leave something to be desired. I was planning on starting with a scrimmage to erase some of our first point dropsies, but I got caught up in the captain's meeting, and by the time I got back we only had about 5 minutes until game time. Hindsight tells me that I probably could've delegated or gone to the captain's meeting late to meet the slightly higher priority of winning. Unfortunately I find it hard to delegate, due in great part to a severe lack of leadership after myself, Terp (who was with me) and Cartier (injured). B-Long's been trying to step up, but unfortunately he doesn't command the sort of respect needed, and everyone else...just kinda stands there.

Either way, we didn't scrimmage, just did some paired throwing and Endzone O, cheer and then hooray playing. The entire Loyola game was characterized by an incredible amount of drops, throwing errors, pretty much every turnover imaginable actually. They were ranked 101st so I was expecting a pretty rough match up, but we ended up taking half 7-2. They staged a comeback during the second half, but ended up unable to convert for the most part, even with the help of some of our players. Us 11-7.

Missouri B. I was expecting some rest after the Loyola game, playing a B-team and all. Unfortunately the team just kinda died, and continued to die for the first 4 or so points. This was a drastic and somewhat scary change; at Grinnell the team did fine when I subbed out, but this time around we ended up completely losing our focus. I ended up coming in on point 5 (1-4), and managed to help spark a comeback just in time for the hard cap. Us 9-7.

The Mizz-B team did help highlight some of our flaws as a team, hopefully ones that I can address in the future. They essentially had two handlers and then a team full of rookies, but even with this they still managed to keep some nice flow going, something that we lacked the entire tournament. I especially noticed when I watched the ISUC-Truman State game, we're playing more of an Ames ToP ho-stack: rely on two or three good cutters to advance it up the field, then rely on Greg to bomb it deep (it's much less deadly without Greg). Glory Days was just further proof of our inability to create an offense with in-cuts, especially when I was handling. It's actually pretty humorous, we have most of our games on tape, and every first point I have it's like dump throw, swing, Iain huck. Luckily for me we have a lot of track burn-outs on our team.

Western Kentucky: probably the more interesting of the games in pool play, we started the game by going down 0-6. Kentucky had been running a cup in their earlier games, but we still were unready for it. At 0-5 we finally got our zone-o clicking, I just remember looking at Terp and B-Long after we worked it full field until an ill-fated strike cut; they looked back at me with faces beaming, a mutual epiphany that we could break a cup, as opposed to being crushed by it a la IFUC at Grinnell. We then went on a 6-0 run until they utilized the girl-guy mismatch to score for half.

They subbed in their all-star after half, although he was slightly injured after Kentucky's game against Northwestern. He proved to be too much for us, even injured, unfortunately, hard cap is called at 8-10.

We then lost to Northwestern 7-15. The team had been relying on myself and our main cutter to propel both our offense and defense, and by this point we were absolutely drained. This was probably the most tired I've ever been during an ultimate game, I could barely even play defense, blech.

Day 2, we missed the champion's bracket by 6 points. First game is against Chicago-B. Another example of why we need to scrimmage before the game, this time I was indisposed getting our water, why I didn't delegate I don't know. It's a pretty tough game, nothing exciting, we win 10ish-8ish.

Grinnell was next, and I don't know if they had a tough game against Lewis or if they were missing some star player, but they just played terribly. They threw this 20 ft. cup on us, I just stuck a permanent crash in the center and we just worked it up easily. Only thing they had going for them was a few tall guy mismatches, but our speed was able to overcome them. We ended crushing them, although not without two spirit fouls called on me for encouraging my team to take it easy for the next game. Us 13-7.

I once entertained ideas about going to Purdue for college. I expected their team to be much worse than they were. In reality they were probably the most solid and utterly average team I've ever played against. Also had a taller, slower, less accurate throwing version of me - we had a fun time guarding each other. I don't remember why we lost this game, probably due in part to a lot of fatigue, some mismatches that were never really resolved, I don't know. A tough game laden with Iain and Iain-clone layouts, but ultimately we lose 8-10.

Pros: Layouts from lots of people, spectacular deep catches, great d throughout the tournament, freshmen stepping up, cup ownage, bright future for UNIPUC(?!)

Cons: Really really hard ground, our handlers breaking under pressure, inability to utilize in-cuts for an offense, no Champion's bracket, lack of flow/movement, throwing problems for a lot of our cutters, last tournament of the fall

Icarus ain't got nothin' on me

I don't think I've ever been more excited for a tournament than I was for this last Elephantitis. The three days leading up to the tournament I probably slept for a combined 10-15 hours. I'd always be in that semi-conscious, half-dreaming, half-awake state when I'd start to think about ultimate, the team, what I taught them, what I didn't teach them, and the all around thrill of just playing ultimate in general. Even after, with the tournament over, I'm still thinking about ultimate, what I need to do with the team, what the team wants, and of course, Glory Days.

Hello. My name's Iain Wilson. I'm addicted to ultimate.

I was a little surprised about IHUC's strong showing this year, although apparently the people at Grinnell were expecting it. For some reason I thought that they were losing most of their veterans / good players / sucked a lot. In fact I had just had a conversation with one of our quasi-members from St. Olaf about how suddenly IHUC's program had died after their nationals appearance a handful of years ago. To say I was a little surprised is actually a bit of an understatement. I was hoping to depose them later in the year of their #3 spot in Iowa's rankings. ...Shucks.

UNIPUC came to Grinnell about 20-strong, six newbies, three seniors, and 11 other mostly sophomores. We also came to Grinnell excited, ready to put in a better showing than last year, and hopefully play either IHUC or ISUC to demonstrate our potential to be something more than some dark horse team with delusions of grandeur. Unfortunately that didn't exactly happen this tournament. To start off our fledgling program we were given the pool of Truman, Winona Y, Luther, and Grinnell 1/3. A somewhat sobering pool of ultimate know-how. Either of the other two pools we could have reasonably (and easily) finished 2nd or 3rd, but with this hellish pool seeding those options were closed to us, although hey, at least we had 4th on lock down right?

I gave my team a brief pep talk during our warm-ups. Yes we had a hard pool, but we had traded points with Truman up to 8's last year, Winona was split into two teams, and Luther's history was of bringing a B-team to Grinnell. It may look intimidating, but gosh, just keep your chin up team and we can do it!

With those words echoing through our anxious bodies we set to work.

Game 1: UNIPUC v. Grinnell Z
We came into the game looking a bit lackluster, for a lot of people it had been over 6 months since their last tournament; as such we took a few points to regain our tournament intensity. Our vert stack was looking very not-flowy and our defense on their vert stack was suspect, but we still were able to build up a three point lead after our iffy beginnings to take half. Grinnell comes out strong afterward, utilizing their one 6'+ tall guy and our apparently lack of a strong handler mark. They make up a few points, bringing it within one to tie, but then one of our players catches an iffily thrown disc (most certainly not from me) and simultaneously sprains his ankle to throw off their game. A risky maneuver, but one that pays off, we rail off 3 quick points and win on hard cap, 11-8.

At this point in the tournament it was too early to really get any sense of how we were going to play as a team, although a number of motifs had already been established. Our defense never really picked up all that much other than a select one or two layout-happy players. Our marks left something to be desired, there were a lot of IO breakmark throws this game. A lot. I too received the IO breakthrow memo, I think I had a good four or five this game. Additionally, for some reason those first few points we didn't mark our deeps against that one tall guy, and those that did didn't force him to handle, they just kinda let him do his thing. Our basic defense was relatively fine, it's just those little intricacies that mark the difference between shut down defense and a lackluster one that seemed to be missing. Positives? Intensity, our first half cheer, the beginnings of stack flow, and a legitimate deep threat (a theme we pursued relentlessly for the rest of the tournament).

Game 2: UNIPUC v. Luther (B?)
Ah Luther, the greatly polarized enemy of Cartier, Terpstra and the old guard of UNIPUC. Some people looked a bit scared before they stepped on the line, I guess Luther's a scary team. They all look wiry, lanky, and ultimate-esque. Our team does not. They also have a Sub-Zero player and Greg Shirbroun. Both whom I've played against (Dill in Duluth, Greg everywhere), but two people of amazing skill and a seemingly comprehensive knowledge of the game. Luckily when I play against people like Greg and Dill I feel like I tend to step up my game as well. I probably put a lot more effort into this game than I should have, but I was determined to at least give my former teammate a reasonable run for his money.

We started the game strong; I think my intensity was starting to trickle down to my teammates, or maybe it was just a flat-footed Luther team that started us off well. We go up 3-1 and Luther calls a frustrated timeout. Luther takes the time to probably admonish their players for thoroughly unchilly throws and bad throwing decisions, I take the time to frantically explain the ho-stack, its premises, and what to do about it. To me it seemed like a steep learning curve for our relative newly competitive team, although it apparently presented little challenge. Our defense was understandably still off and on (note to self, need drills on this), but satisfactory. Luther continued to make a multitude of TTO's, and we capitalized on nearly every one. We probably took half 7-4 or so. Pigpen articulated his frustration with the classic hat spike and one word explicative (personal victory).

At half I continued to go over the ho-stack and to warn of the intensity Luther would bring in the second half, but the team was optimistic. I don't think any of the veterans had ever played in a game like this before with UNIPUC, that being a relatively close game that actually contained solid ultimate. Walking (okay strutting) back to the sidelines and being greeted with Cartier's silly grin was one of the highlights of my tournament, I think that single half inspired my players more than any of my pep talks could ever hope to do.

The second half went by in more of a blur. I think we mostly traded points and beat off any beginnings of a Luther rally attempt until the soft cap was called. The final point was most likely another capitalization upon a Luther turn. UNIPUC 12-8.

It's not that UNIPUC didn't earn this game, as we had a lot of hot plays and nice flow, but it did feel like Luther essentially served it up to us nicely. Their play was, frankly, unimpressive. I felt like their Stanford handler dump system was easily defended against (although perhaps that's just my opinion), their continues weren't there, and that their players just didn't play good ultimate. Greg can only do so much for freshman and B-team players.

This game my throws were finally starting to warm up, especially my deep forehand puts; my defense and especially my Standford D were hot, and the Luther defense was absolutely full of holes that was I easily able to exploit. I ended up with three layout D's (the utmost measure of worth), one on a Greg Stanford, and two on the same guy, on the same point, on the same cut. I love playing defense on a ho-stack.

UNIPUC v. Winona Y
Having a tall guy named "Easy" as their captain probably should've tipped me off to their particular brand of offense, but unfortunately for those first three points, I was blissfully unaware. After that relatively rough start, we bring the game back up to 3's or so, and go on a short run with our old tactic of all deep throws, all the time. Winona adapts, but not before we manage to take half 7-5.

The half marked a turning point in the game, for some reason we came back out looking tired, sleepy almost. Winona brings it back even, although we manage to stay up a break. We start getting jumpy, a lot of times throwing to the deep cut regardless of the defense and lacking any good in-cuts. We get it to 12-11, but lack the polish to finish it out, end up losing it on universe, 12-13.

A lot of things to work on in this game. Our throws were still looking pretty crisp, even on our bad decisions our receivers could still beat out their defense. Though once we started getting tired in the second half we started having problems. Conditioning, ho-stack defense, and chilly O, all big players in our loss.

UNIPUC v. Truman State
TSU had finished their Luther game early, so they came out with a straight-up force to help frustrate our deep throwing abilities, smart. I was able to break their marks a few times with moderate success, although ended up being inconveniently handblocked late second half. Unfortunately I didn't notice the straight up mark for quite a while, and by the time I did I didn't really do much about it. Definitely a mistake on my part, if we would've just started swinging the disc we would've been able to score easy. Swings and continues are still a problem on my team, although that doesn't justify my mistake.

We still looked tired as a team, had problems with in-cuts and our defense again, basically the usual. Truman didn't play spectacularly, they didn't even play great, we traded points and breaks up to 10s, and it wasn't until those last three points that we finally broke down. Definitely a team we can beat in the future. Truman 13-10.

We went to go find our hotel pretty beat. I had played a good 90% of the points in every game, probably more in the Luther one, something I didn't want to do, but what the team ended up wanting. This year though, when I go out we don't get completely massacred, we're still able to play pretty well, it's just that none of the other players have really stepped up for leadership. I'll probably need to moderate my play at Glory Days in order to be ready for Sunday, but it's hard. I don't want to make the team dependent on my play to win, I'd feel like I'm taking away their chances of getting better by continually taking the fast people or the main handlers, or running the offense. I'm sure the other handlers probably don't like that either, I'll need to tone that down next tournament.

The hotel was beautiful, we probably sat in the jacuzzi for a good hour or so, my entire body was basically a prune by that point. The team got in a nice simu-game of Settlers in, then headed out to the party. Better than last year I thought, congratulations on ISUC for winning it, Luther for being able to drink a lot, and Joel for puking all over his pants. I was DD so I wasn't expecting much from the party, but the energy was infectious and it was nice to see all the old crew again. Also blindsiding all our newbs with Terp's firewater was beautiful, enabling people is fun. Highlights: disc drinking, everyone asking "...so I heard you beat Luther?", lots and lots of actually cooked hamburgers this time, B-Long peeing out my window when going 55, Charlie passing out mid-text message trying to get some, seeing Dunlay(!?) at a party for once.

So second day. The second day wasn't quite as forgiving as I had hoped it would be. I dislike the second day.

First game, UNIPUC v. iFUC
Well we came within 10 minutes of needing to play, quickly cleated up, warmed up, a few throws through Endzone O, bad idea. Second choice I deferred to Terp for advice, also the second disappointment, dang it. We start the game as our little warm up time allows us to, badly. We go down 1-3, but iFuc manages to light a fire under us and we end up going on a 5 point run. But strangely once we get to 6 we decide to stop scoring? iFuc takes half 7-6, ave maria. iFuc's playing a simple front cut vert stack, yet for some reason we keep on letting them get open. From playing these guys multiple times I know how to shut down their main deep handler Aaron (I do so) and their single deep we line up our best defender against. Why are they still scoring. I don't know, soft cap gets put on during half for some reason.

I ask for a solid D line, we pull, get a D, score. 7's. We pull again, we score, 8-7. Pull, they work it up the field, somehow we fuck things up, 8's. They pull and put on their weird 4-person zone. I dimly recall hearing my poppers saying to each other "now what are we supposed to do again?", I realize that we're not in good shape. We turn it a few times although we continue to stuff their feeble attempts at offense upwind. I remind the other handlers that the point of zone O is movement and constant swinging, they ohhhhhhh me. We swing, but with no poppers we don't have much to work with. I punt it, they work it back up, we get a D. Cartier picks up, turns it into the waiting hands of two of the cup players, fast break, score, loser's bracket for us!

We play the consolation semi-final game or whatever, beat the Grinnell 1/3 team, not a whole lot interesting happens - everyone wants to leave, the rookies are playing a lot, hooray. UNIPUC 9-4.

Loser bracket final: UNIPUV v. Grinnell (full squad kinda)
After arriving at the campus from the high school fields I spent about 15 minutes relaying messages from my team to the Grinnell team and back again. My team kinda wanted to leave, but kinda wanted to play, the Grinnell team wanted to play, but a lot of their team had left already? They end up pulling together a dece team of most (it looked like all?) of their captain/handlers, the tall guy, a few others, and Dennis Kuo. By this time our quasi-handler St. Olaf guy had arrived (punctuality isn't his strong suit), so wahoo Iain cutting time! Things proceeded naturally from there. A few layouts from myself, a lot of long puts from everyone, we destroy them 9-3.

It was nice, as basically every moderately good thing I ended up doing was made when the Scorned team was actually watching, hooray/thanks ladies! (also congrats for completely owning everyone at that tournament)

Clearly as a team we need a lot of polish, although I'm sure every team needs that around now. We'll be switching to the ho-stack now that everyone has the endzone O / proper idea of continue cuts down, so hopefully that'll help with some of our offensive problems. Hopefully I'll get the team to try to understand individual defense a bit better, now that I've gone through a tournament I can adapt what I feel comfortable / decent at and pass that on to the team. We've adopted a late night Wednesday throwing workshop sort of thing, so any implements of throwing will be put there. The team isn't serious enough to allow for any sort of Texas drill, there are a good handful of people that genuinely want and continually try to improve, but the majority are still in the fun over improvement stage.

I took notes throughout the tournament, so I have a good deal of things the team needs to work on, I've been using the drills and subsequent practice aims, and greater week aims to pull it together. It's hard working with the team trying to get some of the basic things understood (the cup, continues, ugh), but considering how well we performed I'd say there's a decent groundwork at least. There are a few potential handlers / people I know are dedicated to the sport, and Ellsworth your advice of talking to them about improving certain aspects has worked wonderfully.

As a captain I still need to step up in a few areas. I'm still concerned a lot about my play and less of the team, so I need to somewhat distance myself, probably go out more often especially, so I can observe the game objectively. I didn't call a zone when it could've changed a game (iFUC) and I didn't realize the straight-up mark / adapt to it until it was entirely too late (Truman), and with both games I probably could've influenced the outcome. I played solidly through most of the tournament, I only had a few turns per game, admittedly some bad deep choices mostly, but no turfs, only one or two throws badly thrown due to the wind, a lot of D's. Generally it was just a good tournament for me. I do need to work on my breaks, especially my backhand, but that's always been a problem of mine.

For those of you that witnessed some of our play, any helpful tips? Greg seemed impressed with our potential, but really that only tells me that our team has athleticism. With some polish we'll be a solid team, but then again I don't know how the ho-stack will treat us. Practices don't go nearly as well as tournaments, we always go to tournaments and get a good flow going, but once we come back to UNI all of the non-serious players break it up again. Still, a ho-stack, a continued intensity, better throws and decisions; this is a UNIPUC I'm sure many people weren't ever expecting to see.

The Most Dangerous Game

It's funny how badly confused my priorities are. Luckily, they aren't badly enough confused for me to need to change them. Homework's got nothin' on me!

For those of you that find ultimate recaps bothersome, I present to you an abbreviated version:

Ames ToP arrives at Oregon, Wisconsin. Ames ToP beats everybody real bad, but absolutely nothing exciting happens. The next day comes. Ames ToP beats everybody real bad even more, but this time plenty of exciting things happen. Ames ToP eats a complimentary ice cream cake.

It was actually a bit depressing in the first day, what with the little to no excitement during our games - also, very unfortunate for a recap. Saturday was the day of the team as a whole rather than specific standouts. Greg, Misra, Myself, Dunlay, and Tai all contributed solidly, but there were no flashy Tai-layouts, no glory-filled hucks from myself or Greg, although strangely there were the usual amount of slightly-bearded swings and dumps to support our offense (our lifeblood at times it seemed). No one played spectacularly, no one played poorly, but our team went 5-0, and the rest of the teams were stunned.

Due to unforeseen circumstances after the first day, Dunlay, Myself and Ying returned to Ames to drop off Jessi and Jazz (can I spell it Jazz, or should I use "Jas," I never know). As such we were not expected to play to the best of our abilities, I do believe we broke those expectations.

We arrived about 20 minutes late to the fields and were greeted with a 4-4 tie against Oh Boy!, one of the as of yet un-Top'ed teams of the B-Pool. Oh Boy!, with their fancy jerseys and their can-do attitudes were a stark contrast to the previously uninspiring teams of Pool A; as such they were putting put quite a fight. But after a brief warm-up, Ying, Dunlay and I were ready to enter the fray, and Oh Boy! didn't know what hit them. The three of us had been abruptly aroused from sleep a mere half hour earlier and we milked that indignant grumpiness for all it was worth. In hindsight I may have gone a little too far in that respect, but a little grumpiness never hurt anyone. But A little grumpiness did force me to spike a disc. Turns out I don't deal well with lack of sleep.

All disc spiking aside, in both this game, and the next against Prion, Dunlay and I were working some sort of crazy Iowan magic with our cuts. It wasn't until the finals that we finally started to run out of steam, but luckily we had our incredibly deep bench to help shore up our cutting positions in that respect. Anyway, ToP 13-9

Apparently nothing of note happened in the Prion game, as all I remember of that game is the relief that we didn't have to actually play hard. 13-4, Top.

Actually now that I think of it I don't remember much of the Implants game either. I do recall that they had a few older guys that thought they could push us high schoolers around, as well as that one Wisconsin chick that could probably huck a good mile or so. We went down early, something like 2-5, but ended up going on a run to take half after a sick layout-D from Greg. That play was easily the turning point of the game. Our offense wasn't working as well as it had been against the previous teams, our handlers were too hesitant to look for the deep throws that Dunlay and I had been reeling in so easily, and our defense was just looking sluggish. It wasn't until Greg schooled that old annoying guy with his layout that we awoke from our stupor.

Top continued its run for another few points, and ended up trading points for the win. Contrary to popular belief though, the Misra-Tai iso call resulted in game point, not the win. I'm probably stealing their thunder, and I apologize, but the truth must be heard. The real final point was thrown to probably Meghan...or something. It's hard to hear the truth when the truth can't accurately be remembered; maybe it was Misra and Tai that scored the final point. Either way, we got cake, and it was really tasty cake. I had like five pieces. It was awesome.

I looked at Greg after the game and he was so happy he was almost crying. I felt the same way. What a capstone, captaining a team for so long to finally result in that lofty tournament win, it must've felt amazing. All of us, on the cusp of our individual teams and eras, all assembling for one last tournament.

Here's to you Greg. For all of those Luther handler hats thrown to the ground in indignant fury. For all of those crazy forehand hucks that to this day impress me still. For that first tournament in KC, showing me that Ames ToP did in fact, have a chance in youth ultimate, to this recent culmination of Ames ToPpery. Thank you for everything you've done, the stress you've gone through, and undoubtedly, the large amount of cash you've lost in the process. It's been one heck of a ride.

Iain and his forays into the realm of leadership

Being a blog christened after its author's attempts at captaincy, its author feels obligated to update. Also, the fact that a tournament, a location change and the return to the college lifestyle have all occurred way heavy on its author's shoulders. Unfortunately this post is about none of these.

UNIPUC's first practice occurred back on Sunday. We had some decent turnout, a lot of people that have played back in high school, a few people that "played some disc back in gym class and thought it was fun," and one or two tournament goers. Also present - an inconceivable amount of wind and rain. The latter was not well received by the team.

Due to those conditions we weren't able to get as much done on Sunday as I had hoped, the usual introductions were performed, a few basic explanations about the stack and force, nothing too fancy. I did discover though, that I'm really bad at explaining things. Really really bad. Abominable even. This isn't all that desirable of a trait for a captain to have.

Sunday practice also had very few of our old team present. We were missing our three main players at Cooler playing with the PaB team, while the rain probably drove off any of the other slightly less dedicated members. Two of the three members at Cooler were also former presidents, which somewhat left me at a loss for what to do. I worked with what I could.

Afterwards (with the addition of the three Cooler-ites) our first team meeting was held. It proceeded exquisitely. Chili red and marina blue are now our two jersey colors, although no input was given for a name change or a new insignia for that matter, mostly because I didn't have any of the drawings on my person.

Another no-ultimate Monday came and passed and then Tuesday practice arrived, hooray! This time around my explanations were much less of the abominable sort, quite the opposite in fact. With an official practice under my belt I was feeling confident, so my stack and force demonstrations flowed much more smoothly. Even with my peerless demonstrations though, the team still has a lot to work on. Unlike ISUC we don't have as solid of a core of veterans, so not only do we have to teach the newbies, but we have to reteach some of the team members as well. The newbies don't have that competitive ultimate atmosphere to learn in yet, I'd like to try to cultivate that, but I don't know how.

It's hard for the new players to learn how to play correctly when a lot of the older members don't quite know when to make a continue or how to make a proper cut. It also worries me that none of the older players really understood the necessity of the stack moving upfield when the disc moves upfield. Whenever the disc is caught a lot of people just panic and sprint wildly away from the stack in these dazzling circular continue cuts, which although I'm sure look absolutely scintillating on paper, lose something in translation to the field.

I should probably stress a bit more the necessity of the stack moving as a group, but I'm still trying to feel out when exactly it's proper to give advice, and when it's not. People tend to misinterpret what I say into something a lot more harsh than I intended, so I'm somewhat hesitant to tell people what to do. With this being only our second practice as well, I don't want to put people off by having them think they're doing absolutely everything wrong, but I also don't want them to build bad tendencies that we'll have to overcome later in the year. I'm sure the happy medium is what I should aim for, but those happy mediums tend to have a lot in common with sublime circular continue cuts.

The basics are what the team needs though and the basics are what I'm going to have to focus upon for the next few days. Whether or not the team understands the main nuances of the stack will make or break our play this year, it's what kept us from really playing all that well last year.

This brings in another issue though, our practices starting at 3:30, when about five or so people have classes until 4:45. If those five people miss out on Tuesday/Thursday explanations and drills, then they're going to be leagues behind the rest of the team in terms of understanding. I'd like to move practice times up to 5 or so, but then we'd start to encounter the problem of not eating dinner until 7:30. With the dining centers closing at 7:45, that probably wouldn't go over very well with the team.

This all sounds like these last few practices have been fruitless, but for the first two practices they've gone quite well. We converted a track athlete permanently to our heathen ways, as well as picking up a few other pretty athletic people. The older players seem almost excited, if not more excited about this year than I am. Additionally the intensity of our last practice was a pleasant surprise from what UNIPUC is usually like. I'm hoping to try to help foster this intensity by raising my intensity as well. Hopefully it will trickle down to the other players so they can try to learn from my example, as well as to help minimize any loss of skills that I might have (this I'm very worried about).

Getting used to teaching players that are completely unfamiliar with the game is new to me, although nothing I can't adapt to. It'll take time and I'm sure a lot of frustration, but when all these drills and explanations finally pay off and the team starts to click; it'll be worth the effort a thousand times over.

Iain and his birth as an internationally renowned critic

Picked up a Newsweek the other day and read this little treat. It instilled within me a sort of illogical disdain that I carried with me throughout the rest of the day. Being as I am the sort of person to share to others his normal, every-day illogical disdainery, I will now endeavor to do so.

Although before I write any further, let me say that any cliches to be found in this entry are there unknowingly. I'm not trying for some pedantic attempts at witticisms here, as it seems I have the entirety of the article's comments section to do that for me already.

Oh yeah, I went there comments section. You thought I was just going to talk about the article and leave you by the wayside didn't you. Not so. Burn.

At the beginning of the article the guy has a good point; cliches are the crutches that lazy writers rely on. About when he gets to "mass exodus" and his laughable exposition against the medicinal industry though, he loses me. Clearly it's a case of a good idea gone awry in the pursuit of a more entertaining article, but still, he just blatantly carries on.

Just take a long look at the article once you're done reading it, it consists entirely of alarmingly bad examples of colloquialisms in normal speech. Forgetting for the moment that a colloquialism, i.e. cliche, is a happenstance that occurs solely in informal conversations, and therefore both the part of my previous sentence "colloquialisms in normal speech" is redundant, as well as over three fourths of that article. What's the point of filling up an entire article with such terrible examples? I've mentioned this before to Ali, but when you're trying to be critical of someone, it is imperative that in the process you don't expose yourself for being the pompous moron you really are.

Here's a great example of it (no, not this entry, that article I linked to you earlier in the post). A stirring rallying cry, railing against the inadequacies of our nation's writing abilities, that in its single-minded zealotry, manages to transform an otherwise reasonable argument and possibly well written article into a meaningless piece of chest beating. A tirade devoid of meaning; merely a crotchety old professor airing his grievances, repeatedly and without end.

There. Illogical disdain complete.Then again, I'm probably missing the point of the article and magazine entirely, but hey, they don't call it illogical for nothin'.

While I'm still going though, I think I might just hit another topic. This subject reminds me of a logical fallacy-laden argument once given to me. That of, if you aren't capable enough to do something well, than you have no foundation with which to stand on in order to criticize. In response I always thought to myself, "Wow, how novel. You just single-handedly denied legitimacy to the thousands of people that hold job as reviewers, commentators, critics. Way to go. Douche." Now if only I could have thought of that when I was actually in that conversation.

The sheer amount of irony contained in this one post is overwhelming. I think I'll stop now.

Edit: While making this post I wrote "meaningless piece of drivel" only to replace it with "chest beating" to try to stick the drivel theme, but still to stay true to my pompous and decidedly not moronic tendencies. A quick Google search gives back the headline, "Is Chest Beating as Good for People as it is for Primates?" Touché God, touché.

Remember what I said in blog entry #2? Yeah. Me either.

Been listening to a lot of George Winston lately; that and the old timey stylings of Jelly Roll Morton and Fats Waller. Apparently my musical tastes have shifted once again, although this time I'm unsure of where exactly they've gone to. Usually when this happens I tend to resume my love affair with trance or techno, but I think this time I'll stay one step ahead of myself and jump right into some nice acid jazz. Take that self!

Continuing on with the music theme, my last girlfriend got me into the whole indie scene, although not like the lame indie scene that shares a great deal with the lame emo scene, but more of the kinda cool, not really all that indie, but still indie enough to know this band from that, indie scene. For about a year or so I've bummed around that part of the music industry, the Arcade Fire, Rilo Kiley (although I heard a Rilo Kiley song on 105.1 the other day, how weird), the Shins, etc, but it's quickly starting to get old. Other than maybe the above musings though, I'm uncertain of what else to look in regards to music. A few of my old indie friends got into some underground rap, maybe I should follow suit? I can't really see myself listening to much of that, although boy it'd do wonders for my street cred.

Ultimate lately has been pretty good. We've had a lot of turnout for these last few practices as well, a surprisingly large turnout actually, 20+ people this last practice. Other than our ill-fated scrimmage against CLX + a few other of those ISUC chumps, our team has been looking pretty solid (partly due to the aforementioned turnout and last minute additions to the team). We're still making a lot of mistakes and trying to get into the groove of our ho-stack, but I think we'll be able to get it together in time for Madison. We have a lot of talent on the team through Greg, Dunlay, Tai and J-Mis among a few others, so it's not that we don't have the ability, we just for some reason haven't quite clicked yet. Hopefully some of the players from this last scrimmage have some tips for things we need to work on, I'll leave it to them to give any further opinions.

Only a few more days left of this summer though; I'm starting to feel those first few pricks of wanderlust. Not only will I be able to start packing up and getting ready to move into my new dorm room, but Ali's coming back on the 14th! I'm all kinds of excited. Visiting her out in Maine was the highlight of my summer; her coming back will probably complete it. FYI for my friends and relations, from the 14th to the 17th I will be incommunicado, I hope that won't cause any problems.

This is quickly turning into an eclectic post (randoms even?!), but negotiations were furthered today in regards to UNI ultimate. Terp was at the scrimmage today, we talked a bit afterward about some of the problems that I'll likely encounter during my captaincy. A loss of interest due to lack of commitment, how to try to combat that, etc. I wish UNI were a bigger university, it'd be much easier to go about cultivating an ultimate program with a slightly larger student base.

I mostly included that last sentence so I could use the subjunctive tense properly in a sentence. Excuse me for a moment while I bask in my own greatness.

Yeap. Later in the night I ended up going to Stomping Grounds to work a bit on my plans for UNI. They've been progressing well, although I'm getting to the point where I can't really plan much more out. A lot of the major decisions will depend on the team and the amount of enthusiasm they show. I should probably stop thinking about it and let it play out.

Terp took me aside late during the game. Making conversation I asked him what he thought about ISUC practice, his reply? "Man. Iain, I've been enlightened."

What I was really pulling for was more of a dark mauve actually

I was listening to NPR on the drive back from Cedar Falls the other day. It was during a short interlude bridging the gap from the soft jazz of the 1900s to a modern piano concerto that a thought occurred to me. The feeling that as long as those soft-spoken, slightly graying voices just kept on narrating, kept on carefully enunciating the names of countless foreign composers and their masterpieces; all would be right with the world.

It was the perfect capstone to an otherwise slightly aggravating journey. You see, I was freshly off of having tried to convince the rest of UNIPUC of the plethora of changes needed for the upcoming year. Feelings of serenity and peace were in short supply that night.

The change of insignia and name were accepted fairly quickly, but for some reason they firmly resisted any sort of change in the color scheme of our jerseys. Apparently purple is such a magical and awe-inspiring color that, given the choice, it will trump every single other color devised of by man, save a more brilliant form of it.

Luckily, after about 2-3 hours of discussion, light blue and dark red were finally accepted for our separate jersey colors, although not without the requisite wailing and gnashing of teeth. My only fear now is that I will soon have to do it all over again, during the actual team meeting. Curse purple and the sway it holds over my teammates!

Really all that was accomplished on my trip, other than the very fine dining given to us by our local Hu Hot, was the realization that I'm going to have to make every single decision on this team. From those minor jersey color decisions, to the choice of our offense, I'm really the only person on the team with enough experience to choose. It occurs to me that this is much more of a daunting task than I originally anticipated.

And I haven't even started the paperwork yet.

Edit: Although naturally all of my decisions/ideas would be given to the team for approval beforehand. What, you think I'm some sort of despot or somethin'?!

Mid-college crisis: major dilemmas

In middle school one of my teachers once posed the question "What is history?" He was asking the wrong question. Why history?

Why study what occurred at the Battle of Hastings in 1066? Why does it matter who was present, who won? What does that information give you? Do we owe those of the past some small pittance for the things they witnessed, the events they helped found?

Does history have a purpose?

Clearly it's not to prevent us from past mistakes, otherwise humanity would have achieved perfection a long time ago. So what then, should history be relegated to the demesne of scholars and intellectuals? Is history just another exercise in mental fellatio over the less knowledgeable man?

What would life be without history?

Details. History brings us details, colors to the world. History gives us hope. The knowledge that somewhere, somehow in our existence there has been progress toward the betterment of mankind.

So what then does it make me? The lone keeper of secrets that tends to the knowledge of the past? The gnarled ancient figure that steps out from the shadows when all seems lost, only to teach the protagonist the secret and solitary weakness of his arch-villain?

Perhaps I should change my major to something that'll work out a bit better in the short term.

Digression! Digression!

These past few weeks have been a hectic lot for the family Wilson. Irrationally deemed unfit to house a grandmother of 80-something, the Wilson Flat has been undergoing an excessively drastic, and equally hasty, overhaul. Being the last active member of the family capable of astonishing feats of strength and skill, I have been tasked with the majority of these overhauls.

The heavy lifting, the careful maneuvering and the inevitable and tragic deep cleaning bother me little, but the painting. Oh how I loathe the painting.

In the beginning I was excited! But I was young, naive even. I was content to wile my days away painting a house, for I was a clever person with quite a clever plan. "Why," I said to myself, rubbing my hands with glee, "if Tom Sawyer could whitewash a fence and have fun, what's to stop me from having the time of my life painting and entire house?!"

Well you see, it seems that when Mark Twain first penned Tom Sawyer it was in an era much different from today. Children in Mark Twain's time were constantly embarking on madcap adventures, repeatedly faked their own deaths, spoke in a constant southern drawl, and, above all else, were incredibly gullible. But we now live in a new, much more painful era. The children in Twain's time certainly weren't incredibly fluent in martial arts. Nor were they ever in possession of a cell phone with which to immediately and conveniently contact the police. And they positively had no such inklings of how to abuse the vague wording of the child labor laws of the 1930s to apply to the unlawful acquisition of whitewashing employees.

God damn Flynn Effect.

Luckily, the house and its unrelenting grip upon my free time will soon be over. All that's left for tomorrow are a few touch ups of yellow, a base coat of white on the hard to reach spots near the roof and the final coat of chocolate cherry (yum!) on the trim. The incredible amount of satisfaction that I will soon feel spurs me onward. A lesser man would've died long ago. But I am no lesser man.

I am a man, who when explaining things, quickly and predictably spirals downward into the abyss of colorful language and blatant hyperbole. I am a man who says to himself, "well then, now that that Mark Twain tangent is over, I can resume writing normally," only to immediately return back to his narrative styling to start yet another story. I am no lesser man.

After all, what sort of lesser man would be so dedicated to catching an overthrown huck, that he would eventually half lay-out, half sprint directly into a pole, and subsequently have a humorous set of artistic renderings made to detail his path to glory? I'm going to venture a guess here and say not many.

A brief side note, today my mom and I decided to plunge headfirst into the dangerous waters of pesto sauce and noodles. My consensus? Quite tasty actually, I'm unsure of why exactly it took me so long to go about sampling what pesto sauce had to offer. I also wish I knew what exactly was in pesto sauce so I could avoid any chance of being incredibly sickened by the ingredients in some sort of humorous fashion (see also the okra-jalapeño debacle).

Returning back to the original topic (the remodeling the house one, not the whole lesser man thing), the house actually looks pretty respectable now. After living in the unkempt wasteland for so long, it's a nice change to see it all clean. Ahh cleanliness and order, how I've missed you.

The current tally for the great house reorganization '07 so far: repainted exterior, three walls of one room primed and painted, wood flooring laid down in the aforementioned room complete with decorations on both the wall and floor, an absurd amount of cleaning throughout the house and I think some other things that I can't really remember and probably aren't all that important to this list. Considering my father's been gone over half the month of July, and both my mom and I work part-time, I'm quite pleased with our progress.

Here's hoping my grandmother still has her eyesight.

People Watchin'

It seems everyone of late, when searching for a name to label their latest artistic tour de force of a photo album, encounter some sort of insurmountable obstacle. An obstacle so monolithic in proportion that it utterly obscures any sort of feeble attempt towards appellation. But lo! In a flash of prolific insight they stumble upon the name "randoms" as the quintessential answer to their creative needs.

Who started this? Why would you start this? Why would you name your album "randoms" as opposed to something more descriptive? And most importantly, why was I not notified of this sooner?

Well now that I have expectations, it's only natural to break them

Ahh books, one of my great pastimes. I've read many a book in my day and age. As a child I absolutely devoured books, enough that my teachers didn't know what to do with me. I had a college reading level by the time 3rd grade rolled around, I suppose that might have played a small part in it.

Like all things I've gone through different genres in phases. Somewhere out upon the fringes of my memory I vaguely recall reading a vast amount of Hardy Boys books as a child. Merely whetting my appetite for the fantastical, this eventually developed into a hearty proclivity for horror and fantasy works. Places like Xanth, Amber and Deva were my stomping grounds for the majority of my teenage years, even up to the very cusp of my high school shenanigans. Although once there, my teachers firmly instilled unto me a righteous taste for the hegemony of great novels and the authors thereof.

My fellow peers reacted with apprehension and eventual abhorrence towards an aging man and the woes entailed by his frailty and years. The sea was a harsh mistress, our young minds were told, although one easily surpassed by the committee that required the book for all freshman English courses. Myself, I sat enraptured by the novel, unable to articulate the tremendous flood of emotions that were pouring forth from me. Naturally, in the interest of jockeying for position on the social ladder, I concealed my predilection for fear of ridicule (What?! You like Hemingway? Iain's a misogynist! Iain's a misogynist! ). However, from that point on I knew that the classics were my fodder, and my free time my...giant mouth with which to eat them.

I fear that I'm beginning to start scraping the barrel in regards to books to read at the rate that I'm going these days, although I'm sure once school starts up I'll slow down again. I'm just making up for lost time anyway, nothing to be worried about. Over the school year I think I only read one non-required book for reading, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, but with a multitude of history classes and an English class to boot, I had my hands full otherwise. Easily the main highlight on the literature spectrum from that year was the discovery of What's Eating Gilbert Grape. Our focus for my English class was Iowan literature, which subsequently turns out to be a bit sparse in regards to classics, albeit moderately interesting overall. Although I certainly didn't expect such an amazing book as Gilbert Grape. J.D. Salinger-esque would be the best way to put my summary of that book. By far one of my favorite books in the last few years.

Side note: I feel like I shouldn't refer to my college courses as classes, they just sound so uninspiring. From now discourses of utmost distinction for me and only discourses of the utmost distinction.

Most of the rest of the works given to us by our English professor were fairly uninteresting, although did you know that there was not only a book, but a play and a movie written about our dear Iowa State Fair? The mind boggles. My prof. did inspire me enough to try out Shoeless Joe, the basis for Field of Dreams, though. I felt the need to expand my literary horizons. Well Dr. Broz I did. And now I'm unexpanding them.

All of this leads up to my current book list for the summer of '07. I've been quite busy it seems, considering how ultimate has been consuming my life lately. Most of these were read in a flurry of activity both before and after my trip to Maine. It seems, based upon my rankings, that I have a taste for dystopian novels, although the mood of the ending apparently makes no difference to me.

I'll spare you my layman's reviewing skills: on to the list!

Ranked in order of relative unadulterated awesomeness:
A Clockwork Orange
1984
Life of Pi
For Whom the Bell Tolls
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
On the Road
Shoeless Joe

Up next, Fahrenheit 451 and the veritable tome that is Don Quixote, wish me luck.

UNI Ultimate, Codename: LEGUME

I've delayed committing these ideas down on paper for two days now, so I feel like I should before I forget them. Most of these came from a think tank session between myself, "Driven" Nelson, Ying, and Dunlay, so any commentary is welcome. I have yet to bounce any of these off of Terp or Cartier, or the team for that matter, but I don't really feel like many of the players at UNI are as into Ultimate as I am, so I don't think they'll have many qualms.

First of all, UNIPUC needs jerseys. Badly. We're currently sporting some sort of pseudo-attitude tee as our jersey of choice, that needs to be replaced. I'm fairly certain Patagonia would most likely be who I'd be looking to for jerseys, everything that I've seen I've liked, and the other companies I haven't been too sure about. I'm unsure of when exactly to buy the jerseys, I want the players that wear them to be loyal to the team and not the iffy people that come once every two weeks or so. I was setting a tentative date as a month after Grinnell or so, that way I'll be able to see who's willing to at least give up time for a tournament and any of the people that don't like the atmosphere can peel off.

Anyway, the jerseys. I think we finally agreed upon most likely a blood red color (I'm sure a lot of teams use it, but it's so cool!) and a metallic gold, or if that's not a suitable choice for a color, probably the next blue up from Carolina Blue. I was aiming for an aquamarine or maybe even a turquoise blue/green, but getting that metallic gold would definitely be my first choice. (These all being jersey base colors). You just don't see something like that ever, but I suppose that could be due to the fact that it's not possible to make. Writing on the respective colors would be gold for red, red for gold, etc. For blue either black or white? We were unsure about that. Definitely not orange though, that was a resounding no. Complimentary colors are apparently a no go with blue/orange.

Looking at the jersey options from the Patagonia website I think I'd be leaning towards Marina blue/black print and then Chili red if there's the chance of having gold print, otherwise crimson/black. Naturally this all depends on what the team thinks, but those two colors both match what I had in mind.

Now the big problem, insignia. After a mid-this-post outing to Cafe Milo / the Boheme, Ying and I tried to brainstorm some ideas on what to do about it. We narrowed it down to a good six, although our last two are a little iffy.
1. (Inside joke) One of the dragons from Bubble Bobble - his head open (a la gameplay) while creating a few bubbles, the number would be inside the largest one.
2. Panther version I: A stern looking panther, complete with cane, monocle and top hat, looking disapprovingly upon the rest of the ultimate masses.
3. A Tony the Tiger / Captain America panther (Thumbs up, soldier!).
4. An envelope asking "Sectionals...?" with a large red DENIED stamped over it
5. (Stretching for ideas here): Bagheera from the Jungle Book
6. Pink Panther!
I feel like we'll probably go with 2 or 3, but man would 1 or 4 be amazing. If only.

There's probably also the slight chance that we have some artistic geniuses on our team that could pull out a spiffy looking symbol like ISUC's, but that would be a very slight chance. Mike Lun, where are you in our great hour of need?!

E. III:TR, P. II

Turns out ultimate recap posts take an obscene amount of time and space to make. Also, apparently Seiler has some sort of unparalleled memory that allows him to recall both a specific event, as well as the score after that event, upon a whim. Kevin Seiler, I salute you.

Almost the entire tournament until when my throws started to go a bit downhill I was main handler opposite Greg. That meaning he did all the fancy stuff and when he got stuck or needed a swing/dump I was there. Pivot handler basically. It was kinda nice I thought. I do wish I knew Greg's reasoning of putting me there though, as I always assumed Dunlay's throws, choices, and breaking were much better than mine. Maybe I just have such archetypal pivot handler attributes that Greg wasn't able to resist. That's probably the most likely scenario.

The only thing that I would've liked a bit more was the ability for me to make a deep cut, but I suppose being a handler it's generally frowned upon to do that. I understand the whole reasoning between teams that always keep their handlers back and don't let them make deep cuts, the whole "there are 4 other players further deep than you that can poach off their men and guard you" thing, but man it's just too much fun! That does remind though, if I do chose to go with a ho-stack for UNI it's going to be mighty hard to go deep and not run into someone else's man. Hm. I'll save that thought for a later post.

One of the big things I noticed this tournament, although I don't know why I never really noticed it before, Ames ToP has no depth. I mentioned below the A-team of our team, well that was basically the team that played during any and all clutch moments. By the Candliers game all of us were beat. Mark was cramping, I think Greg may have been too, Dunlay and I were both beat, and I wasn't really doing nearly as much work as Dunlay. Really I'm unsure of why I was so tired, Greg and Dunlay were playing like champs the whole tournament. It was Dunlay's cuts that breathed life into our offense, and Greg's transcendent throws that led us to victory yet again. I suppose I was playing more of a flow position and trying to make sure we never lost that flow, but I didn't really deserve to be all that tired. I guess I should just look to Lun's post concerning MUDI / Seiler's #8 email thingie for solace. (I feel like a stalker, ew.)

I'd go with a player by player recap, but unfortunately I probably remember more from Solstice than I do Iowa Games. That whole "every game on one day" thing really gets to you. Also, smoking those first five teams so badly somewhat limited most of the spectacular plays. The team played amazingly the entire day.

Minor notes for myself: I noticed leading people out the proper distance when they're cutting with a man behind them needs some work on my part. I need to stop throwing where I want them to be cutting and just place it within their reach on the non-defender side.

The marking drill with having either Dunlay or Greg as a mark has really helped my breaks. I need to do that more often / especially at UNI. Being comfortable with a mark trying to handblock you at all costs (especially if it's Michael Dunlay, marking extraordinaire) helps you ten times as much on the field.

My backhand is still pitiful. Continue to work on that.

Iowa Games recap posts: finito!

Exegesis III: The Reckoning

I think rather than posting another non sequitur after that last ultimate recap I'll just recklessly carry on, because damn it, I live life on the edge!

Iowa Games. Ames ToP's only yearly tournament. The past two years we were denied victory, but this year, this year would be the one. Our pool consisted of what we originally perceived as being the hardest group of teams in the tournament. We were wrong. We were also wrong about this year being the one. That was a bit of a letdown. Given a choice between being wrong about our pool and being wrong about our prediction to win, I would have most likely chosen the pool thing.

Upon arrival to the fields (the furthest fields away from the road, somebody doesn't think much of ultimate) I noticed a few things. 1. I was quite early, so the awesome, "that one Nationals CLX video where it's perfectly flat fields, a slight fog, and scores of discs being thrown through the air with spiffy inspirational background music and the GOOD GOD IT'S NATIONALS" feeling was inexplicably absent. 2. Your college team that you're going to be the captain of doesn't really like it when you don't play on their team. and 3. Man some of these teams suck balls.

Yet again a slight wind, although a bit more stiff than in Freedom Fest. Enough that certain enterprising teams would attempt to form a cup (Protip: that was a really bad idea). Our first game was against a very green looking Marshalltown team. Our warmups were so breathtaking that many of their players were visibly shaken, but then again, that's what happens when you bring little city boys to a big man's tournament. We dominate 9-3. I was particularly happy with myself that game, as I had finally gone out and purchased a few pairs of nice pre-ultimate pants, so on the sidelines I was reppin' the Goodwill Scene like nobody's business. Color my team impressed.

Game two, Cobra Kai. Now I have to hand it them, the players of Cobra Kai are equally as harsh on each other on the field as they are in the dojo. Additionally, they had some future UNI players that I was scoping out. One cutter, and pseudo-handler it looked like. I like the cutter, he was fast, quiet, probably is used to losing, typical UNI material. The pseudo-handler I really can't see playing ultimate with UNI, although if he did he'd be a nice change. Like every player on UNI, though, his throws are all incredibly inconsistent, but that can easily be done away with. Game-wise, Cobra Kai comes out swinging, takes us to 2's. Unfortunately for them, however, this time it was Ames Top that swept the leg. ToP 9-3.

Next up Team Backseat I believe. They had green jerseys. I think Paul Utesh(?) was playing on their team? He plays for forest green in DSM League, I don't really know the guy. ToP 9-1. Only highlight of this game that I remember: I took off my shirt as it was about prime burning time and I wanted to avoid last year's train wreck that was my tan lines. I quickly hear a mocking, "gonna show off the bod a little bit eh Muscles?" I had no reply, although found this endlessly humorous the whole tournament (I'm not that muscular).

The Cybernetic Tractor Farm Machines, or more commonly known as UNIPUC. Do you think I should change our name to CTFM? Because I think I should change the name to CTFM. At least then we'd get some respect. The UNI team had been playing abysmally the entire tournament and I mean I guess they did outscore the other teams up to this point, but they looked absolutely terrible. None of the players other than B-Long had been playing over the summer. Terp was playing terribly. B-Long isn't, and never will be a handler, not to mention he still needs to learn the basics of being a cutter. And they had Drake players. Drake players look up to us UNI players as gods of the sport. That might or might not tell you a few things about their team. ToP 9-4.

Being the 2nd seed, for some reason, all we had left was PaB to clinch out our pool. We had heard from the previous teams that the extent of the PaB offense was just to send Gerard deep every play. Naturally, I was given the joy that was to guard him (it actually wasn't that bad). Somewhere in between Solstice and now I've somehow worked up the calling card of being able to guard the opposing team's deep man and/or quickest cutter. I like that feeling, although I wish I knew how exactly I managed to earn that reputation. Regardless, Gerard was shut down for the most part, except for the first of many disappointments, that being a badly placed huck tipped by Mark Shirbroun, that I laid out for and D'd, only to end up having the wind take it and place it directly in Gerard's hands. Damn wind. It would've been fine, if only that exact same thing wouldn't have happened three to four points later.

We went down early, but spurred on by the great defensive stand that not only I, but the rest of our A-team (that being myself, Greg, Dunlay, Torin, Mark and two other people) experienced, we raced into the lead and let it be known that we were unequivocal kings of our pool. I think we may have turned it once, if at all, after the comeback started at 2-4 or so. We were pumped. It may have been the poach and/or lazy D of most of those guys, but working it upwind with Dunlay/Greg and the precision patience of our dump-swing red zone offense felt amazing. If we would've played the Candliers like we did PaB it probably would've been a much closer game. Top 9-5.

A brief 30-minute lunch break followed. I definitely regret not eating/drinking really anything in between this point and the Candliers game. In a one day tournament with eight games in it, definitely not a smart thing to do. The future of UNIPUC ultimate was discussed during this time frame. I have my work cut out for me.

Game Six (ugh). Des Moines Huckers. Led by the shenanigans of Dylan Huey, we never really had much to worry about this team. Dylan had his usual choice words, one of the old guys from UNI was on this team, meh. I think Dumbledore's Army (i.e. the other AHS players) came to watch during this game. They booed us for a little bit, it was cute. Yet another heartbreaking layout D, this time I just didn't get a solid enough hand on the disc. Also, although I didn't mention it earlier, Dunlay again had the same opportunity to get the layout, but for fear of killing me, he declined. Heart you Dunlay! Ames ToP 11-7(?)

The Pella Game. My team told me I looked incredibly burnt out at this point, I was beginning to feel the beginnings of the hydration problems here. Looking back on it that's probably why I remember so little of the actual game. I do remember that Mark got in large arguing match with Loynachan, I like having people that get angry/loud really easily on my team. They provide entertainment. There was a foul called on a second bid for a disc, but both had legitimately made a play on the disc and became tangled at the end. I sided with Mark, as he succinctly put it, "Well then, I guess I should call a foul too!"

...Although his quote kind of loses something in translation. Try saying that to yourself with a Sean Connery accent to it. That's the ticket.

Some other mildly interesting things occurred. Loynachan grunted a lot, Trent was old, you know where I'm going with this. ToP 11-8(?)

And on to the finals we went. To steel myself for such a momentous occasion I was driven to a Portajohn and relieved myself. When I came back we had already started and assumed a losing position. We never really did much about that. They absolutely slaughtered us between their height, vast experience, superb throwing ability, and unique fashion sense. At this point I was unable to will myself to care, as nearly every first cut made allowed a D or dropped the disc. Things like that tend to bring down morale. We probably lost 5-13. At least we continually improve I guess? 8th to 3rd to 2nd. Too bad there probably won't be an Ames ToP around next year to try for the final victory.

Pros: Continual improvement. (Mostly) beating all the teams that we knew/mattered. Solid play from the team in general. The weather being amazing for once. Watching Mark and Brian go at it. Rubbing Dylan Huey the wrong way. Outscoring our pool 45-16.

Cons: Didn't get to eliminate Dumbledore's Army. The three layout D's that weren't actually D's, but points for the other team. UNIPUC's play.

Freedom Fest

I was pretty stoked for Freedom Fest to tell the truth. After playing with so many iffy teams in the past year or so (and after the PaB-fest of Solstice) I was ready for a change. ISUC brought a solid team to the table, naturally some of the normal ISUC players plus Dunlay, Greg, Torin, M. Lun, Gibbs and Derscheid.

This was my first tournament since YCC with Dunlay, I was curious to see where he'd fit in in regards to the ISUC team. After seeing and hearing so much about Lun I was pretty happy to finally play with him. Gibbs I hadn't really heard much about, just mostly her name tossed around and the word "captain" included, so I just assumed she was amazing. And Derscheid I knew to be an outstanding player through Des Moines League, and a player with an incredible grasp of the game (one day I too will have that grasp).

There were the normal crazy antics on the way up and when we got to Duluth, which turns out has an absolutely gorgeous cityscape during the night, although in the day, it's loses a bit of its luster. Whatever lake we camped at, Superior maybe(?) I can't remember, was breathtaking, although the newb-like forgetting of my sleeping bag was not. Torin and I slept in his van. I wouldn't recommend it.

The tournament fields were nice, a slight crosswind from time to time, but the type that can easily be eliminated after adjusting your throws accordingly. On the way to our first field we encountered a large, puffed up mama bird, who was nesting and/or protecting its children. That thing was fierce. Cones were eventually erected around the perimeter of its territory, although not before some mean-spirited players tried to chase it off. It must have been one of the most stressed out birds in the entire US during that tournament.

As for the ultimate, it took me a while to get used to the cutting of the ISUC offense. I can see where its strengths lie, but it really seemed that we didn't use it to the best of its abilities the whole tournament. That offense needs continual cuts and movement, but a lot of times we ended up getting stuck and the handlers had to work it up. Bad ISUC! Bad.

As mentioned below, I think in the first two games I had already chalked up four or five layout D's, I was quite happy with myself, but I didn't really feel like I got comfortable enough to play my best until later in the second day. A lot of the ISUC guys were impressed with my play, Tim especially it seemed, but I don't think they had ever really seen me play very much.

My very first deep throw in the tournament was a really badly curled backhand that ended up completely missing Ellsworth's deep cut. After that throw I resolved to not handle at all. My backhand has always been the worse of my two throws for some reason. I've been trying to even it out distance-wise with my forehand, but I still have yet to be able to get the correct grip and release point to get it to do what I want. My last practice with ToP I was trying to pull with it and it was working pretty well, but still nowhere near where my forehand is. I'm definitely going to need to work on that if I'm going to do anything worthwhile at UNI.

I'll spare you the details of the games of the first day, we played the way our ranking allowed us to. Our offense needed some work, there were a lot of times where I had the poached deep cut ready, but another player was clogging so I had to just reign it in. Being able to cut deep is a pretty big thing for me, I feel like I'm underestimated a lot in regards to my speed / ups, and that tends to end well for me/my team. And, as I mentioned earlier, that offense needs continual cuts, and we really weren't giving that many. I was thinking about trying that with UNI over the fall, but from how that went I'm definitely going to go with my gut and try the ho-stack. Here's hoping they're able to learn it.

I ended up being too sore / dead feeling to go out to the party. Not to mention I'm not exactly the huge ultimate party type of guy. I'll take a tight-knit group of friends to drink with over a party in a heartbeat. I ended up staying in the hotel with a few other people. Notable happenstances: the RPS National Championships and Master Roshambollah, the apparent citywide shortage of functioning milkshake machines, and the first time sleeping in a bed with another person since the week I was in Maine with Ali. Torin was not amused.

The second day, first game. When I think of Freedom Fest our game against Climax (Luther Alum team) is the first thing that springs to mind. There was an extended warm-up period before that game due to some breakfast choices that left something to be desired. The Luther team looked...tall. Also not very creative in regards to their hair choices, all of them oddly seemed to have the same haircut. A large majority of the time I had trouble lining across from my man, due to sheer uniformity of the Luther team. I suppose that's a desirable trait to have.

I had heard horror stories from my fellow UNI players about Luther teams. You see, back the last time UNI actually went to sectionals (I think three years ago?), they were utterly crushed and thoroughly mocked by the Luther players/Gods of Ultimate. The previous captain of the team actually harbors a deep resentment toward them, and fancies them our rivals. (Hah!) Apparently I, like the rest of the ISUC team, strangely enough, had something to prove.

For some reason while waiting on the line I was able to psych myself up to contest the disc each and every time, and I think my play reflected that. I was put on Jamie (no last name) from Sub-Zero, captain of the Luther team from the previous year, for every single point that he was in. It may have been due to his lack of effort, but I felt like I completely shut him down for the majority of his cutting, and it was only when he started to do more handling that I let him back into the game. Note to self: work on mark, also handler defense. My cutting defense was also eventually what led to my personal highlight of the tournament.

This was the game which contained one of those magical moments. One of those moments where you shuffle off your pitiful human limits. One of those moments where the stars align, where the caprice of karma holds no sway, and where fate gives you a helping hand.

I was told later by Greg that he so badly wished he could've had a picture at that moment, for my feet were at my defender's chest. My sentiments echo his exactly.

We played hard that game and we ended up winning, Deservedly in some ways, not so in others. The last point ended up being somewhat of a letdown due to a player's belief that he could fast count his way to a stall (turns out, if a second fast count / contested stall is called immediately after a previous one, the stall count goes down to six. That would've been handy to know).

The second game of the second day...happened, and we lost. After the Climax game I and a lot of the team didn't feel quite up to playing a bunch of Sub-Zero players (plus Jamie and Dill from Climax, unfair!). We were all too beat to end up playing with Ding Wop for 3rd, I'm unsure of how well we would've done, but then again, I've never played Ding Wop before.

Well, technically I played them at Moustachionals. I distinctly remember Dave skying one of our players (UNI) with both a beer and a cocktail in his hand for the score. Typical.

The post-tournament ride introduced me to the joy of Vanilla Frosties, the promise of the 5 for 5.95 shake challenge, and probably some other things I guess.

The player by player recap?
Greg: Stellar, Solstice-esque. (I'll join his fanclub with gusto!)
Dunlay: Spectacular, he didn't do as much handling as I would've expected, considering he's really going to need to step up next year for ISUC, but as a cutter he's amazing.
Torin: See below.
Misra: Excellent. None of the problems at Solstice were continued at Freedom Fest.
Myself: Superb, throws needed work (addressed at Iowa Games)
Gibbs: Fast/quick, didn't see enough of her play though. I also felt bad as I felt like I should'veMcDonalds where it was just her and me sitting at the same table. It was probably my bad, you were just staring so intently at the table I was unsure of what to do. Or maybe it didn't really matter and I'm making more of it than there really is. Hm.
M. Lun: I could tell his shoulder was probably still bothering him, but an amazing handler nonetheless. It's interesting trying to work with him / I wasn't used to it at all so it was a bit awkward trying to make handler cuts with him. Meh. Deep throws = love.
Derscheid: As solid as I remembered her, whenever she got the disc I felt at ease. Also, her randomly shouted explicatives after points brightened my day, there need to be more people like her. I also felt bad for not being social, but she is a grizzled veteran of the sport and I am not. First rule of ultimate: greenhorns never address their superiors unless addressed first. Appendix: Unless prompted in question form i.e. in the search for greater knowledge.

Freedom Fest: a great tournament overall, with only a few slight things that could have been improved. 8.5 out of 10 stars.

Edit: Also M. Ellsworth: He was like, there and stuff. He did some things.

And now for something completely different

I remember back sometime during the last half of my freshman year I was in the elevator of my residence hall riding up to my floor. It was a typical ride up, a cornucopia of mind-numbed college students coming back from lecture, but for some reason this ride also contained one of those incredibly bubbly girls who was vainly trying engage people in conversation.

You know the one, the girl that babbles incessantly, at any time, any place. It doesn't matter what she talks about, nobody listens, least of all her, yet she continues her mantra throughout the day, some sort of ward to protect her and the immediate 50 foot radius from sweet sweet silence and serenity.

Naturally I assumed the defensive position, casting my eyes upon the floor and vainly hoping she will choose someone else as her next victim. I notice next to me a fellow captive, a tall buzz-cut bedecked student - clearly the reserved tall man type that avoids all conversation - doing the same. We exchange glances.

The elevator inches up the floors. I alternate between feigning stupidity and exhaustion, but neither seem to have an effect. At long last we arrive at the 6th floor, but alas! Our captor does not budge. Panic is clearly written upon my friend's face. I take in my surroundings one last time before death. She turns, deliberating, yet all the while continuing her current monologue. I shift my weight as to position my head behind my friend's backpack.

Triumph.

My friend looks back at me with betrayal in his eyes. I feel no pity. He feels no pain.

7th floor. I alone am standing in opposition of her goal. I stare desperately at the digital reading, fervently wishing for it to render unto me my freedom. She begins, asking me what about that particular wall is so appealing to others. I remain silent.

8th floor. She tries anew, posing a rhetorical question concerning the willingness of college students to engage in conversation in a social setting. A bead of sweat noticeably drops from my face to the floor. Her phone rings, a sigh of relief. Wrong number, God has abandoned me.

The double doors being to open. I can bear it no longer, I squeeze myself through the crack, distantly wondering what would happen were I to become stuck. My captor is struck dumb at the speed with which I disappear into my dorm room.

At long last I am free! Sole defender of the status quo.

Naturally I was referring to Ultimate

I should probably develop some sort of formula for tournament recaps or some such thing, but I've always been a writer that uses as little preparation as possible. I never cared much for those new-fangled outlines and I don't never plan on changing for nobody, nohow.

Way, way back in the beginning of the summer I was invited to the Summer Solstice down in Tulsa by PaB, the Des Moines League team that plays in every way, shape and form, as you'd expect a "Des Moines League Team" to play. Accompanying me were my faithful chums, Torin, Greg, J-Mis and fellow UNIer, Kyle "Driven" Nelson. Although at the time we didn't know the magnitude of PaB's decision, we would only be playing with roughly four actual PaB players. The rest of the roster was being filled by Ames ToP (us) and some guys from a place called Rolla. Oh how I wish I would've known about that ahead of time. Admittedly one of the guys, with a decidedly feminine name for some reason, was an amazing defender/puller, but the rest...eh, not so much. They definitely filled the roster though.

This tournament, like many to follow, had a multiple motifs that I will soon elaborate upon. The first and most satisfying: the sheer and utter domination of Greg Shirbroun over any and all comers. Now having grown up watching Greg improve I've known about his handling for quite a while, but since his year at Luther his skills have improved dramatically. As a cutter I felt completely comfortable making almost any cut I wanted, knowing that somehow, some way, Greg would get the disc to me. His throwing was completely unparalleled in that entire tournament. We gladly rode upon his back as far as he could take us (something that I'm quickly getting used to).

Playing with J-Mis was excellent. I like his style of play a lot, that being small advances up the field, dump/swings, all that jazz. In my opinion he's one of the harder people I know to guard; something that he's unfortunately taken advantage of many a time in opposing matches. It takes a bit as a cutter to get used to his somewhat lack of Shirbroun-esque deep throws, although he's trying to work on that, and I do think they've gotten better. I felt like he could've played better this tournament, he had a few unforced TO's and the like, but overall what I saw I liked.

Driven played solidly throughout the tournament, his chilliness needs a bit of work, but all around it's going to be nice to have him at UNI, his experience from ToP will play a big factor in him stepping up over the school year.

Unfortunately, ever since his injury near Frostbite(?) Torin has been playing less than sub-par these days I'd say. His throws have advanced quite well from my time playing with him over last summer, but it seems he's lost something in exchange. I really felt this in both Iowa Games and Freedom Fest especially, but all I remember Torin doing is either not cutting / waiting in the stack or sitting in the shade tent resting. Maybe it's unfair that I'm comparing him to Greg, myself, and Dunlay, but it just feels like Torin's abilities as a cutter, deep, and defender have all stagnated. This is probably much more harsh than I mean it to be, but I was hoping for a lot for this summer with Torin, but I guess that injury just took too much out of him.

As for myself, I felt like in Solstice I really came into my own in regards to being a cutter. I recall back in the winter when Ben Lyons said to me, "It's a shame you're a handler over at UNI, you're a great first cutter." In the winter I was unsure what the hell he meant, but after Solstice I wholeheartedly agree with him. A lot of the tournament I was the first cut that started the offensive flow and many times the one that kept it going as well. My defense as well skyrocketed, although the one big problem I had that tournament was getting that extra inch for the layout D. As most of ISUC now knows, I didn't get a single layout D that tournament (although a problem I quickly rectified at Freedom Fest). I didn't do any handling that tournament, I felt very unsure of my throws when in a key handling position, but the throws that I had as continue were quite satisfactory.

Unfortunately despite all this lovely recap, the team itself didn't fare too well. We did end up getting 3rd in the loser's bracket I believe and our losses only totaled a combined 8 point difference margin. Depressing in a way, as having Dunlay would've most likely reversed our fortunes, but still, a satisfying perspective to have in regards to losses.