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.