My re-intoduction to Ultimate came in 1993 via a humble pick-up game in Jamaica Plain. The game and the friendships grew, and then in 1997, we formed a summer league team called JP House of Frisbee (JPHOF). Fun team. We had some pretty good players, but the team was special beacuse folks were quite selfless and that seemed to lead to the team getting the best out of folks.
By 2002, we struggled a bit with numbers. Folks had busy lives, and it was rare for us to get more than 9 out to a game. We toyed with the idea of limiting PT to the first 7 that showed up for a game. Our field was a slanted pasture by the zoo that was decimated by its use as a carnival site.
One week, we had a game scheduled against Brown University. I thought it was a bit odd that Brown would field a summer league team, and it did turn out that this was the only game that they got together for that summer. JPHOF straggled in, as usual, at 6pm. One thing about the summer leagues games is that the traffic is horrible at that time of day. The team was a motley crew, dressed in black, with various dogs and children running around. No sign of Brown. I think we did have a cell phone for them, and it turns out that they were driving up from Providence. As finding this field is tricky for even the seasoned Bostonite, we settled in, figuring that Brown was going to be quite late. We had 8 folks lying around when the first of the Brown cars show up. No problem. We will start when they are ready. I see John Jay, who I coached while he was at Newton North, plus Rebecca Simon (not playing due to an injury, but along for the ride nonetheless) and we exchanged hellos. We became aware of how well they were dressed. Nice new Brown uniforms with numbers. The whole deal. Next came the realization about how good these kids were. All kinds of weird warm-up throws that we had never seen. We're thinking, "Boy, Nathan and Ted really have a machine going on down there".
The game starts and it is a bit subdued, sort of like both teams are calibrating the experience. They are able to score and have, of course, solid fundamentals, but we are also able to score, by a few individuals stepping up to their potential and making big plays. JPHOF never shied away from junk D (in fact, despite those who say that zone to man transitions don't work in Mixed, we were able to hang on with much better teams doing just this), so we decide to pull out a 1-3-3 as they were effective at setting up their isolations. I must say that in the most surprising moments, a 1-3-3 works wonderfully against teams that should clearly be able walk through this gift of a defense. This was one of those times. For some reason, Brown started floating long passes that our backline was able to vacuum up. My thinking was now shifting from admiring the machine to "What are Nate and Ted doing down there?" We took half, and as I could see that John was getting pissed, it was game on.
We trade throughout the second half, but we are always up by at least one as they couldn't get that last break back. We were running a 3-1-3 spread offense that is effective as we are able to get throws off to the iso, and then a couple of our women were able to make long continuity cuts. This, in a sense, summed up JP; we were able to do "sophisticated" things with pretty average players partly, I think, because the atmosphere one that was interested in the process of improving. Brown runs man most of the game, and they like to set up the same match-ups on D, so I have tall Franz on me most of the time. This created problems for me on D, but I was able to mix up what I did on O enough to keep involved.
Finally, it is 12-11 us, game to 13, and we pull to them. We are going down the slope, so they are going to have to work up hill. We play a standard cup zone and hold it the whole way. John runs the show, and they score after about a hundred smart throws. They erupt in celebration. Fists pumping, everyone on the field, etc. we trudge back downhill, and I say to my teammates "What ever happens in this next point, let's remember that this game was fun and that we played well. Do not be timid. Have fun." We set up our 3-1-3, and one of our women, who was not the most confident player, makes several tremendous in-cuts for yardage out of the back row. We were able to make the best of it and punch it into the corner for the win.
After the game, the woman who made the cuts in that last point, thanked me for diffusing the tension before the last point. She said it made it easier for her to play. That's what I liked about my team.
I hung out for a while with Rebecca, Franz, and John, and then, as the dark settled in andd the bugs came out, it was time to make a quick exit and head home.
This was the kind of game that made summer league fun, but I have been having trouble over the past few years finding that place again, and, as a result, I am giving serious thought to not playing this upcoming year. The great thing about BUDA summer "club" is that there are opportunities to learn from very good players. It is hard not to want to take advantage of this opportunity.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Games with a Story #1- JPHOF vs Brown, Summer League Game
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Ultimate History Book/30 years of Ultimate
This is the kind of post that the decision to "read more", or not, was made for. I received my copy of the Ultimate History book in the mail this morning. I have not had the chance to open it yet and do an "Al" (check to look for myself).
The book comes at a very interesting time for me as 2006 marks the 30th anniversary of when I started playing the sport. I have been reflecting upon this since July when I worked as the Ass. Director for NUTC. I was introduced to Ultimate in the summer of 1976 in the Merrill quad at Hampshire College. This turned out to be exactly where we were rooming during camp. Of course, the quad looks tiny and I wonder how we were actually able to play there in the evenings after dinner. I was 12 at the time, and my father was teaching Math for the summer session. I brought the sport home to Ithaca, NY and taught my friends how to play. We played all the time while I was in school, and our favorite place to play was Barton Hall at Cornell University.
My "career" (I have hard time giving it that much weight) has been quite out of the norm. While I have always been aware of this, I try not talk about the old days very much (despite this post). I think I try to look forward as much as possible. In any case, it came as a bit of a surprise this past Sept at the CHC, when, in the middle of a point during a random game on Saturday, Jorah turned to me and said "George....so who did you play with in the early 90's?" I quickly gave him my stock answer. What follows is the expanded version.
After bringing the sport back to my friends in Ithaca, we continued play, as I said above, quite frequently throughout grades 7-12. As we got into High School, disc really became a big part of our lives. We were into Ultimate, but also Freestyle. We had the silicone spray and certain discs for doing tricks, etc. I must say that I had a pretty good airbounce, but no flick. In the spring of 1981, we formed the first Ithaca High School Ultimate team. This came about largely due to the encouragement of CVB, Mike Yonda, and others from the Cornell team. At some point, we had discovered their pick-up game, and they really took us under their wing. We competed in two tournaments as far as I can recall. The first, which I no recollection of (my step-brother reminded me), was the Cornell Frat tournament. We won that one...or so I understand. We then "qualified" for the New York State tournament, which was to be held at the teagle fields at Cornell. I believe we got crushed by all comers at that one, but we had a great time. My only actual recollection of this tournament is our own Keith Millman laying out waist high and then attempting a chicken-wing pass in the air, before he hit the ground. Having never seen anything like this, there was a bit of a pause before we could meekly say "Take your time".
I graduated from high school in 1982, and while I applied at schools like Brown, Virginia, Duke, and Amherst, I was rejected, without remorse, by each one. It came down to a decision between McGill and Umass/Amherst. I decided to consult the best guidance counselor I knew, and with little prompting, decided on UMASS as CVB said that they had a really good Ultimate team.
I was quite lost at UMASS. I tried out for the soccer team, but I had smoked too much pot in the morning, so I was cut by the afternoon. Luckily, ZooDisc had a place for me. During the first few practices, the team managed to get rid of my air bounce, but I still had no flick. We did a lot of "go to". Tim Riviera was the captain, and he split the team up into an A team and a B team. Mike Nevins, Greg Novack, a kid from Bronx Science, and I were all on the B team and VERY unhappy. I recall that the B team disintegrated quickly as many folks decided they couldn't handle the "rigors" of the sport. The team was really a band of crazy gypsies. Besides Tim, we had EK, Seegar, Barney, Mr Pete, John Nisley, Alex Socoloft, Ken Boardman, Jim Melody. Nevins and I traveled with Mr Pete to the first tournament. He picked us up in his red and black Mustang and flew down 91 in the fog. I also got to travel in Riviera's van. I recall doing bong hits all the way down 91 to Connecticut, then falling out of the van, and staggering to the keg. We won the tournament as usual. Heady and immortal times. The only times we lost were to the Rude Boys and Hostages. They did this thing called a ZONE DEFENSE. Never had heard of such a thing, let alone dump-swing, poppers, 2 on 1 power players, 3-handler set. We played the Hostages on a nice, gusty day at the Ultimate Affair, and our "O" consisted of Riviera standing by himself, surrounded by the cup. Usually he would have to jack it to Seegar, which sometimes worked.
We went to a tournament at Harvard. During one game, Duncan and I ran into each other in the end zone, and we were both knocked out. I went to the hospital in an ambulance. I remember lying on the gurney waiting to get x-rayed. The nurse said to me "What ever you do...don't fall asleep" and then walked away and left me by my groggy self. A big help, she was. Tim picked me up and brought me back to Amherst.
We played tournament at Purchase (I remember playing Dartmouth), Connecticut, Amherst, and Boston. Nevins and I got to play a lot for rookies. I couldn't throw, so I was pretty much a D player/deep threat. We would play the Rude Boys, they would play zone, so I would hang in the back against Mooney. We never said a word to one another. I was all business. As usual, Riviera would have to jack it deep. I would give it my best shot, but Mooney was tall....even back then.
There was no college season at this point (no force or picks either, and games were to time...or maybe 21), so we competed in Club Regionals at Amherst. Two bids to Nationals, no backdoor, double elim pansy crap. This was straight up force, mano v mano (except the club teams played zone), semis is the game to go Ultimate. I don't remember a thing about Saturday, except I wore a purple winter hat and that I went up for a D at one point, but was distracted by the unusal shadow blocking out the sun. It tuned out to be Seegar skying at some ungodly height. Sunday. My memory kicks in when we play Zekreation. This is basically the club version of Cornell. CVB has moved to Chicago or something. Yonda is the star along with Zeke. No Brenner or JC. Hard fought game. I knock Yonda out of the game when we collide while making bids for a high disc. I don't get a chance to chat with him and feel guilty forever. We win the game and play the Hostages in Semis. I looked back at an old UPA newsletter and we lost 21-16. I remember it getting quite dark, and there was a huge crowd. EK and Tim were actually able to do some good O work against their zone, so by the end of the game, it was mostly man to man. I was in during on point toward the end of the game, and we turned it pretty close to their goal line. I had laid out for the disc, and I got up to see one of their players pick up the disc and throw a short pass toward our sideline. I scrambled up and laid out, got the block and crashed into out sideline. Folks went crazy and it was quite exciting.
The following spring, Riviera calls me to ask about the team and the spring season. I think I had some motivation issues in 83-84. I was pretty much only interested in music and pot, so I made a "career" decision and decided to not play Ultimate and focus on music. Tim was pissed and leaned on me hard. We had a few very long conversations before I decided to move on. I ran into Nevins at Fools a few years ago. We were quite competitive with each other that first fall. We actually hitchhiked to Philadelphia together so I could pick up a car. At Fools, he said "Yeah, you got knocked out (at Harvard) of the game, and then I got really into it". This is not my recollection, but I think does go to show our very different paths. Mike, of course, won a championship with UMASS in 86 (my senior year), and then played for NYNY. I pretty much forgot about the sport and got very involved in music and audio production work.
I really didn't think about the sport again until the spring of 1993, when I was walking across the Boston College campus with my friend, Phil Mitchell. He said "You should come out to our Ultimate pick-up game in JP on Sundays". I mentioned that I had played before (I believe I saved him by not recounting all of the above). As I wasn't traveling for work or working on the weekends anymore, I was able to come out and start to play again. In the summer of 1994, I started to play pick-up at Weeks Field in Newton. Zaz was the hotshot, and I remember him shutting me down. He wasn't too friendly about it, either. I did get a lay out block on James Pitts early on, and Dave Meyers was around a lot. I think it was a bit humorous that I had to learn about the force and picks, even though I was the ripe old age of 30.
I think it easy to look upon 1983-93 as lost years. Could have. Would have. Should have. I think that even if Ultimate had been on the radar during this period, that I spent too much time traveling and working on the weekends to have gotten invloved at all. It took a conscious effort to adjust my lifestyle to one in which I had better control of my time, and I don't think it is a coincidence that Ultimate popped back into view. After I got back into Club Ultimate in 1998, my wife described my interest as a mid-life crises. This is probably accurate, but does not illuminate her actual incredible support for the time I have spent in Ultimate over the past 6 years.
So I am looking forward to reading the book. It seems like it will be a nice Holiday gift.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Short Story
This is a short story I wrote in 1985 for a creative writing class at UMASS/Amherst. As it was based on actual experiences and was not trying to be overtly "creative", my teacher was pretty clear that it was the only thing I wrote that fall that was not "shit".
Bryan was my best friend at the time, and is now my step-brother. The two of us started the first Ithaca High School Ultimate team.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Bryan accelerated and sent the car careening around the corners of Cascadilla Park road as we made our way up to Cornell University. In the passenger seat, I could look down into the slate gorge and see the water rushing over waterfalls on the way to Cayuga Lake. I looked back and could see the sun just beginning to lower over West Hill. The windows were wide open, like the accelerator, and the rushing late June air was like a reward for surviving the harsh, dark winters. The end of high school was just a few days away, but Bryan and I had already made the emotional shift away. We did not attend any Senior Week activities, and spent as much time as we could pursuing new friends and passions. As we came to the top of the hill, Bryan accelerated, and our energy increased as we now were closer to the field. We passed Risley Hall, and I reflected for a moment on the experiences of seeing bands there, like the Zobo Funn Band, during hedonistic parties. Bryan's aggressive left turn right before the Beebee Lake bridge snapped me back to attention. We drove up the little hill and could see the motley gaggle of folks gathering at the field.
While Bryan and I were just finishing up school, most of these folks had been out of school for a month. They had decided to enjoy the most beautiful time of the year in Ithaca working and playing lots of Ultimate. Bryan parked the car, and we grabbed our cleats from the back seat. The group energy was buzzing as folks got ready to play. People were sitting around, joking and laughing. Most everyone had dogs, so they were running around creating chaos. We crossed the parking lot and walked over to say hi to Chris Van Buran. CVB was wearing his usual bandanna over his long black hair, and he greeted us with his welcoming manner. We spoke about the summer and the Talking Heads. A few months earlier, I had made the decision to attend UMASS over McGill based on him telling me how good ZooDisc was. CVB broke off our conversation to go warm-up. I watched him closely as he had all the throws I didn't have. He was the first person I saw throw a hammer during a game.
As we made our way over to the group, a fight broke out between two of the dogs. Both dogs were large labs, and folks went diving for cover as the dogs rolled crazily over the bags and chairs. Quick as a cat, Mike Yonda jumped in between the dogs, and emerged holding each dog off the ground by the scruff of the neck. Yonda was in contrast to the laid back, hippy norm. He was muscular, intense, and very athletic. I would only see Yonda a few more times. The last time was a few months later at NE Regionals. ZooDisc played Zekreation in quarters on Sunday morning. Late in the game, Yonda and I went up for a disc and our collision knocked him out of the game.
Bryan and I got our cleats on and went to warm-up. While we were still in high school and still inexperienced as Ultimate players, the college folks always welcomed us at their pick-up games. They helped us with our throws and kept us involved when we played. The start of the game was a dance of unspoken words. Folks just knew it was time to play. The folks wearing red and black for dark would go one way, and the whites would go the other. It did not seem lost to us that the opportunity to play this game on this warm summer evening was a gift. The seven of us on the line all acknowledged each other with energy and readiness. One of us put our arm up, and with a yell of "Ultimate", we would pull and run as fast as we could. I could see the disc floating past the red sun setting as the game began.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Time to Retire?
I can hear the chuckles already. "Uhmm....dude....you play in the Mixed Division....doesn't that mean you have already retired?" (Sidenote: Don't you hate RSD posts that begin "Uhmm.....(insert smart ass remark here)". The uhmm is so smug). While I acknowledge such sentiment, it is clearly incorrect and is only really useful to ruffle feathers and bolster fragile egos. However, I think it might be a Universal Truth that if you are 41 years old AND are low down on the depth chart of a Mixed team, it just might be time to embrace one's mediocrity and hang up the cleats in an effort to avoid the 73 Willie Mays Syndrome. Of course, in my specific case, it would 73 Willie Mays without the Vic Wertz catch, the 660 home runs, MVP's, and basically the whole of the 50's and 60's.
Now, if you have read this far, the answer to the title of this post (and deep concern about my career path) must be keeping you at the edge of your seat. I will, however, defer to the wisdom of MC this past Saturday night at the 6TM party in which she said "Decisions about retiring should not be made in November and December". And, indeed, my thoughts have been changing rapidly since Friday or Saturday in Sarasota. I am considering 3 options:
1) Maintain the Status Quo--Perhaps the path of least resistance. Maintain the same level of conditioning and training as last year. Contribute to the team however I can, even if it is in a limited role. While I truly believe that role players provide a benefit to the team if they, at the least, fully challenge the starters in practices (I feel I was successful in this task), the harsh view is that I am essentially riding the team's coattails.
2) New personal goals/work harder--Perhaps I could address the lack of personal goals this past year by working harder this upcoming year. I think I could be motivated to try to bump myself up a few notches on the depth chart. This was before I was told by one of the subbers that my disc skills need to improve, however. I am pretty good at self-evaluation, though, so this isn't really news (see the mediocrity part). Unlike Al and Jim, in "my day" I was a D player/goal scorer. As I have aged, I think one could say that my transition to the other side of the disc has been far from graceful. Still, this option provides for clear direction and goals, and might be the most emotionally positive.
3) Retire--You know what "they" say: "If you can't do......teach". The most dramatic option. In the past, I have made similar decisions in a cold turkey fashion. I tend to cut my losses and move on. I have been nuturing the foundation of a viable path after playing, though, and I think I would get a lot out of it. Coaching, teaching clinics, my admin work, and the NUTC job are all rewarding and will serve to keep me involved.
There are other factors that will impact this decision. Family, work, the make up of 6TM this upcoming year, and 6TM's decision about attending Worlds (maybe I should ride out on the Australian sunset) are just some examples of external forces that will come into play.
So....no answer yet.....
