Process of Illumination

We returned from Florida with 9 games under our belt, 6 victories, 3 losses, and for my part, one hell of a shirt tan. Most importantly, as we boarded a giant team flight on AirTran back to Wisconsin we had a long list of things we needed to work on for these next three weeks, before the Hodags once again board a plane and head to the opposite coast for the Stanford Invite.

We arrived at the field complex of the University of Southern Florida on a morning that could have been warmer. With our breaths barely visible at our faces and the thermometer pushing the bottom 40s, teams warmed up in full pants and jackets, and hands were kept warm between drills within the heat of our crotchspace. UNC-W coach Tully Beatty complained that, aside from the fact it wasn't raining, the weather had not improved on their long drive southward. The Hodags were happy to feel even the lightest touch of warmth though, and we set about getting our legs ready for the weekend.

We began round robin play with the host team. My concern was our rusty throws would be an even bigger disadvantage playing against home field, and true to form our defense's O had trouble converting. Our legs carried us though and we were able to generate many turns. Our O-line looked sharp however, and carried the half without a single break to its detriment. When the second half started, our D finally got its throws together and we eliminated casual turns. The result was rattling off several breaks and taking the game 13-7.

We had a brief break before playing Cornell who, despite having made semifinals of Natties last year (can't believe it!), came with maybe 13 pairs of legs to this tournament. It was the 2nd game for both teams, but they were already looking tired, and by this time the D squad was humming along. Despite the efforts of a few astute throwers on Cornell, their defense was unable to generate any breaks all game and we took it in hand 13-6.

Our next game against Virginia was the first real test. We went into halftime with a lead that felt comfortable, and when our O-line was finally broken our defense was too lax to respond. A few sloppy points in a row by our O-line, and suddenly we found ourselves down a point neediing to tie. The game evened at 10-10, then we broke to take advantage, and traded to the cap, with our team receiving tied at 11s. The hard cap had come on, and with only 5 minutes until the start of the next round we scored to win on double game point. There was contention, however, as Virginia was unaware that we'd been playing under hard cap for the last two points (they scored to tie it at 11s, forcing the final point), and they complained. There was nothing to be done with tournament director Cyle Van Auken looking on, and as they bitterly asked him, "what more can we do?" he answered them deadpan, "keep track of time."

Here I'll interject that while it is each team's responsibility to do so, I understand Virginia's frustrations. There was no loud horn indicating soft or hard cap, and teams were left to manage time themselves. And normally, I would have talked to someone on the other team to ensure that both teams know the situation but this was our first tournament, and I'm becoming comfortable with my own duties, and in the moment it didn't cross my mind. So, apologies to Virginia, but that's how it goes. Keep track of time.

I'll also mention that the amenities for this tournament were what amenities.

Two port-a-johns, 200m away from the fields, both out of toilet paper by the second round. These boxes of filth were brimming beyond their capacity by the 3rd day, and attempting to deuce at the fields on Sunday became a challenge in careful placement, lest you bottom out too soon and find yourself with no place to go. Only at a tourney with no women's division could you even hope to get away with this. The captain's meeting consisted of a USF player clearly in over his head rattling off rules that he thought were right (he was proven wrong later, his stated 1TO/half + a floater became 2TO/half by the end of the tourney), and the trainer was available whenever we didn't need her. She was contracted to arrive after the start of rounds, and left before the end of the day, along with whomever was taking care to fill water jugs. Not that you can ask for much with a low tourney fee, but I think as a sport we need to get used to paying a little more and having, at bare minimum, a trainer present ANY TIME players are running on the fields, and bathroom facilities that can withstand the copious fecal production 9 teams generate. Just sayin'.

Our final game was against Colorado to end Friday's play. They took it to us fairly well, capitalizing quickly on unforced errors by our O-line. We hardly played our best game, and a couple of breaks in the second half by the D gave us confidence going into Saturday that we could generate goals against any offensive line, however our O-line execution faltered in the second half of the day and we needed to address those struggles. We had drops and throw-aways that are unchacteristic for this team, but with wind playing with the disc's path and edge, our lack of experience outside showed when we played against teams with more aggressive defenses. The day closed with food, and a delicious couple of Bell's Two-Hearted ales for me and Scotto back at the tourney.

Saturday showcased the Florida weather we expected, with not a cloud in the sky. Perhaps it was that distraction that caused us to lay an egg in the first game, or perhaps Harvard's junky 3-3-1 gave our team fits as we faced the first zone of the season. The cutters downfield failed to attack the poaches aggressively, and instead languished behind the cup playing it as a true zone, which allowed the Red Line ample time to switch and clog lanes. Despite several opportunities to bring the game back into the fold, it was the O-line who ultimately folded and we lost 13-8.

This loss put our backs to the wall, needing to generate at least one victory and looking down the mouth of a Sunday that held CUT and Florida, our two biggest rivalries (Colorado being the other). I've called our team young, and having had CUT and Colorado hand it to us at MLC in the fall, and then faltering at the end of Friday vs Colorado, and laying an egg vs. Harvard, we reached a point of crisis. Are we as good as we think we can be? The short answer is not yet, but our potential is essentially limitless at the college level, and the second half of Saturday bore that out.

Our offense put together its finest effort in a classic game against CUT, with neither team blinking in a staring match that lasted until 9-9, when we finally got our first break, then piled on 3 more to take the game 13-10. The game began as contentious as our games always do, but by its end both teams were letting their hard effort do the talking for them. The exhilaration of this victory buried any disappointment in the loss to Harvard, and we carried that momentum directly into our game against Florida an hour later.

Florida is still Florida. They're still just a few players deep, but they're good players, and Troll Sullivan and Alex Hill anchor a team that would otherwise not chart in the Illboard Top 20. But the team is lacking the strength they've had in role players elsewhere, and their one-dimensionality proved their undoing. While other teams might struggle against the Florida image, to us it's always been a rallying point, and our O-line cutters had a field day with a downfield defense too soft to generate pressure against them. Florida basically waits until you make a mistake, and then tries to force something deep to or from Sullivan. Alex Hill plays the role of comic foil and looks to establish power position for himself and Cole as often as possible. Against a Hodag team hungry and smelling victims, it wasn't often enough. We won easily 13-9.

It's not everyday you can beat CUT and Florida within 2 hours of each other. Although too early in the season for either win to mean anything substantive, what we did learn is that we're as real as we thought we could be, and that despite our youth we have a lot of positives working in our favor. We also proved to ourselves the power of an engaged and vocal sideline; a lesson crucial for a team of this size and age. With everyone following the play and communicating to teammates, defense downfield suddenly seemed like a group affair. This lesson, and the confidence it provided, will have to remain with us for the rest of the season if we mean to accomplish the goals we've set for ourselves.

Sunday came with the best weather of the weekend, though not our best play. A young UNC-W team kept it close against us during the first half before surrendering too many breaks on unforced (and forced) errors, and despite some tit-for-tat calls early we ran away with it in the second half 13-7. Meanwhile Colorado lost to a fired-up Virginia in the field next to us, with the game going to the end of the round. Perhaps someone on Night Train finally brought a watch.

We secured a spot in semifinals against CUT, and never took it for granted that this game would be a tougher challenge than our first battle against them. The offense didn't have their best game though, and despite the defense generating turns we weren't able to convert on many of them. Lowlights included 5th year captain Ben Feldman joining an illustrious line of Hodags (2007 Callahan winner Dan Heijmen among them) that have caught a gorgeous pass in the red zone and immediately spiked the disc, before realizing they were well outside the endzone. In this case Feldman's elbow spike placed the disc about 10 yards out. Such was the nature of the D-line offense, coming close to a few breaks but not able to finish, and we lost the game to a fired up (and Grant-less) CUT squad, 13-7. The rivalry remains heated.

CUT took that victory and piled on top of it a complete game against Mamabird in finals. Norden does a lot of the heavy lifting for CUT on the throwing end, and Julian seemed like he was at recess downfield, running around unopposed and catching everything thrown his way. A well-earned victory for CUT over Mamabird 14-12, and for those keeping track, the Central remains the strongest region, or most top-heavy, nationwide.

Follow the Hodag twitter feed, along with the twitter account of the other 8 teams at the Leagevine website for Warm-Up, A Florida Affair.

The 'Dags are en route to the airport as I type this, office full of students stuffing their faces with the a la carte offerings of the high school deep fryer. I'm finding it's taking all I have to focus on the school work here and not the sun and ultimate awaiting us tomorrow.

Our schedule for the weekend:
Friday -
10am vs South Florida
noon vs. Cornell
2pm vs. Virginia
5pm vs. Colorado

Saturday -
noon vs. Harvard
2pm vs. Carleton Poopstains
6pm vs. Florida

Sunday -
8am vs. UNC-Wilmington
10am placement games and semis
12:30pm Finals

Rivalries everywhere. I love the round robin format. At this early juncture, it gives everyone plenty of games. It also makes every game carry weight, not only in victories, but also point differential. Every point counts, literally, because you never know when you'll need to win by one more or lose by one less to come out on top of some convoluted tie that is settled by point diff. We're aware of the stakes and we need to play with them in mind. See you down in Florida, where I will be tweeting from my account occasionally and the @hodaglove account will be active with updates.

Yesterday the Hodags swarmed the McClain Center for our final cleated practice before A Florida Warm-Up.I had spent the previous three hours in the library of my high school beginning the 3-part mediation between two rival gangs, represented by students at my high school and another in the city, in an effort between the school, the police department's anti-gang unit, and neighborhood intervention groups, to squash the beef between them. Tempers between the two gangs had flared earlier last year, culminating in the murder of a former student from here as he relaxed during a smoke break outside his workplace. Now, the police were seeing the same level of activity they'd noticed before that murder, and little fights and shit-talking were escalating just as they had then, and the three nights of talks are efforts by a wide range of concerned adults to broker a loose truce before things again get out of hand.

These were the thoughts in my mind as I drove downtown toward practice, and they were locked in step with me during my warm-up jog around the Shell's 200m indoor track.One of the blessings of a positive, high-energy activity like Ultimate (or any sport, for that matter) is its ability to clear your mind of things otherwise too heavy to shake before bed. After two miles of jogging, my mind, like a stiff and sore hamstring, finally released and the endorphins put me back where I wanted to be, excited and anxious as we prepared for the season's first tourney.

The focus was squarely where it needs to be for a team locked indoors during the harshness of winter: throws and touches. We approached the first half of practice they way we will our Friday morning warm-up, building speed, intensity, and demand of skill throughout the drills we executed. Although the winter months can sometimes lead to indoor fatigue, and sloppy and distracted play, the team knows that each minute in McClain is precious, and veterans kept the pace flowing. Although our ability to account for wind indoors, where every throw is unadultered, is next to impossible, by emphasizing crisp throws and sure hands we're able to at least prepare our minds and hands for the speed of the game.

And the best part is that this team has speed in spades. We're fast. That extra gear was on display as we moved to the second half of practice, which consisted of scrimmaging between the offensive squad and our defense. Although we looked a bit rusty at times, everyone approached each point as an opportunity to win their match-up, and our defensive aggression shone through. Colin Camp set the tone early with a full layout D on a huck that reminded me of Charles Woodson's diving effort that cost him his left collarbone in the Super Bowl. Colin paid only with some skin off his knee, and the team responded to his example. Although only a sophomore, Colin is already showing national-level superstar caliber, and it's these little inspiring plays like his that this team rides and requires for momentum.

Faces were exhausted and layers of jerseys soaked in sweat when 12:15am arrived, but everyone felt better about our readiness going into this weekend. We're going to be rusty, and our throws in wind will feel like we're learning to walk all over again, but our team is athletic and more importantly, determined. Can't wait.

For a nice study in contrast, take a look at today's weather in Madison, WI vs. Tampa Bay, FL.

The damnedest thing about writer's block is that it doesn't stem from a lack of things to write about. Writing requires you to summon the energy necessary to relive the memory, and revisit its emotions, and that process is exhausting. It's kind of like why I haven't gotten around to watching Hotel Rwanda or Blood Diamond yet; I want to, but I know I'll be spent when I'm done, and I'll do it later when I have some more energy, ok?

In my absence Muffin's stream of conscience, like kudzu, grew outward without check and my blog has become an ill-kept garden. The links need weeding and pruning, the masthead a dusting, but mostly I just need to sit down and with the regularity of a drip irrigation system water the keyboard with my words. Yet that takes time, and the catch-22 I'm in is that while I am doing a lot I'd love to write about, the time required to do those things leaves little for their writing. And this being a new year, I toss my resolution to take time to write into the ring, there to rest with everyone else's.

So, aside from it generally being agreed upon that I'm on of the coolest people at my high school (by both fellow staff and students), I've been getting caught up in some Ultimate. I am the coach of the Hodags for the second year in a row, I reprised my role as counselor at Next Level, a camp for high school players, and I also completed my second year with Club as its captain, and we returned to Natties, for my 11th straight appearance. It's been a great experience, with a lot of learning along the way, and I'll entertain the thought that some of you voyeurs out there might be interested in reading about it.

Now, the Hodags are a week away from the first tournament of the spring, Warm-Up, A Florida Affair. We've been busy here in the taiga, alternating digging ourselves out of snow drifts and working out. This year's team returned 18 players from last year - a larger number than many other team's total rosters. Still, an overwhelming number of them were hard-nosed role players from last year. Our success this year will be predicated on these players emerging past their comfort zones and filling out into larger roles.

The departure of both of last year's captains, Matt Crumb and Jake Smart, along with losing the anchor of our offense, Callahan nominee and former captain Evan Klane, left a void at the top of the leadership. However, we have a crop of juniors and seniors that have been hungry to fill these places, and the emergence of Zach Alter and Alex Simmons as trailbreakers has made the transition easier.

Our main challenge has been dealing with the invernal elements. Practice time is at a premium here at UW-Madison, with excellent facilities but armies of club teams fighting for indoor time at the McClain Center. We again took a full roster this season, expecting attrition (but not so early in the season - we've already lost one player we were counting on), and what we need most now is time to play the sport and get used to each other. With Mardi Gras falling later than usual this year on account of this year's liturgical calendar, it conflicted with the Stanford Invite. It was a hard decision to pass up on Mardi Gras, considering that having won the money for like 8 years in a row now they should just rename it Mardi Gras Presents: The Hodags, but we have few opportunities to travel to the west coast and we had to take the one that fit us best.

We find ourselves again this year a young team, with more true freshman than in several years, but our athleticism has increased and our Sophomore/Junior classes are stellar. Provided we're able to put all the pieces together, we will again find ourselves competing against the best teams in the country for a shot at the national championship in Boulder, my second home, come Memorial Day.

World Ultimate Club Championships 2010 - Boston Ironside

Europe is nuts. Prague is hot. Amsterdam jacked my saline solution, forcibly checked my luggage (cleats!), but allowed Surly Beer through unscathed. Ultimate players dominated the scene. The ATM's give out 2000 bills. WUCC check-in was easy enough, although hectic. Stubbs inadvertently misled Rebholz and Muffin into believing their badges was missing -- sending them on a goose-chase for their ID badges - possibly retaliation for getting Smirnoff ICED at Boston Invite last week. The electric plugs are European and the language barrier consists mostly of pointing, smiling, and occasionally bribing.

Ironside team dinner at 7pm. Everything is so cheap -- literally Monopoly money. The World Cup soccer games are crazy to watch. The Old Square has a giant screen set up and the Germany fans went nuts when they owned on Argentina. The Spain goal was equally as loud as Ole-Ole-Ole-Ole cheer rang out, it was easy to picture Shane and Will fist pumping here. Nearing 10:30pm, the old guys grabbed a cab home -- leaving 9 troublemakers out on the town. 3 miles, 7 bars and 10 drinks later -- we found the perfect dance club -- complete with a fog machine and 2 ladies celebrating their bachelorette party. The best part was being solicited to enter a strip club - Hot Peppers no less than 15 times throughout the night. Even more ridiculous was the midget solicitor who said "yeah midgets, in a cage, and you can kick them." Finally asleep at 3am.

The first game was against Munich, Germany at 10:30am. The stadium was large enough to hold a full scale riot. The empty fields were reserved for youth soccer, so we had to warm-up in the 5 yards of sideline space between the stone wall and the field. The field is skinny small, like 35 wide with end zones only 20 deep. It is super hot -- like 85 plus. Ironside began on Offense and promptly turned the disc twice, hucking OB and then Jimmy Foster slipping and taking the disc in the face. The grass was like putting greens. Muffin scored the first break from Dave Hoel to take a 3-2 lead. George Stubbs had a full layout grab in the end zone for an early score 4-3, only to exclaim, "Whoa, I might still be drunk." Germany was tight and gave Boston the disc with a little pressure as the advantage jumped to 7-3 as Naz ripped a huge backhand to Seth-Ro. Teddy jacked a lazer huck to Danny Clark as the lead grew to 12-4. Muffin had a layout D and D-Hoel made a nice box out sky D to make it 15-5. Rebholz and Jasper moved the offense down the field quickly as the the final score was 17-5. The post-game European style huddle was cool as Jacob Goldstein was awarded a sweet MVP jersey. Ryan Todd & Mike Zalisk had to follow up their presentation with a borrowed box of Boston baked beans candy. Hopefully, Ironside can wrestle up something better for the next team.

Next was lunch with Georgia Bosscher as Boston teased her dreadlessly in the shade until warm-ups - complete with Chicken dancing and teaching the 2-step sumo-style Ironman dance. The second game of Sunday was against the Mo Hor! team at 2:30pm. The offense started the game just as the first, turning it twice before getting the D's back and scoring to take a 1-0 lead. #23 for the Slovaks takes the hitch pass and rips a rocket IO backhand on a flick mark for the upwind score 1-1. After that, Boston settled down and moved the disc with ease. The big hammers soon came out as Ironside jumped to a commanding lead 6-2. Half-time was 9-2 as Stubbs was showered with water during the pump up speech. Foster had a full extension slider near the goal line, only to look off a wide open Purcel at the cone, only to throw a floaty looper into double coverage on the S cut for the sky score. Seigs played physical American D for a point and was awarded with a choice swear word. Slovakia scored on a couple of deep balls that either Danny or Colthammer misread by attempting to take at 11 feet as the game ended 17-5. The post-game circle speech was just as awkward as the first, but at least our USA headband accessories went over better. The Czech's had a Chinese Firecracker, "Did we bring the big one?" Three guys lifted an imaginary artillery cannon to the middle set it off and with a screeching whistle made the boom -- very funny.


Will Lokke of Chain told stories of going down to Luxunberg 2-3, before running off 14 straight points. The shuttle service was on holiday so we played Ninja warrior for an hour before finally getting to the women's showcase game and opening ceremony. Hot Pepper! The Czech and Canadians battled to the brink. Czechs down 12-16, before tying the game on 16-16! The golden goal went to the Canadians and partying commenced.

Next up was the Irish Pub where Zalisk was witnessing feats of strength between Chain Lightning and Revolver. It was an All-American take-over as ATL vs. San Fran boat race went down to the wire 1-1. The rubber match had to wait as Revolver passed, giving handshakes with their tails tucked between their legs. The Kid yelled of his dominance and pounded his chest as Jolian just playboy smiled, drank his water, and got a number of a 15 year old. Boston entered the fray and stepped up to the boat race challenge -- getting crushed (Peter Prial *sigh*) in the first round before evening the score 1-1. The rubber match went down to the wire, but "What's that Smell? A-T-L! took the title of best boat racers. Teddy was promptly licked in the face by a girl. Since it was the fourth of July -- all the American's sang a rousing chorus of the star spangled banner!

Lokke was ICED, twice -- Zip was ICED in the bathroom, and Chicken was ICED with his shirt off at the 5 story dance club, with an assist from a foreign girl. Seth and Peter were almost pick-pocketed by prostitutes as the fog machines rumbled. Ridiculous adventures all night. Muffin accidentally locked Goldstein out of their room and apparently, Seigs does not kiss and tell. Foster was hit on by a shy girl in the 80's room as some dude streaked when his favorite song came on.


Monday's first game at 12:30. Warm up time, where is George? Zalisk was sent on a rescue mission and found Stubbs sleeping still. For the third time, Boston had only 15 minutes of field time before playing. The French Jack Sons were drilling big cross field hucks. The nearby French spectators tease that Nasser is the best French player around, and now he plays with Ironside. Boston began on offense as Rebholz and Jasper moved the disc breakside, until Chicken scores 1-0. The Defense runs a train as Goldstein breaks to Muffin to Seth Reinhardt 2-0. Ironside is playing with intensity for the first time all weekend as the French are fired up. Captain #13 pounds the disc in frustration after a sick poach layout D that he is getting no deep hucks. Hilarious - because he does not speak English. Foster screams Hot Peppers! Boston fires up as Purcel helps out with a deep poach D and punches in a break for a 6-2 lead. Seth-Ro gets a big contact over the top nice D, but doesn't contest the foul because he wanted to be nice 8-3. Muffin and Nasser walk on for rare Offensive point and run it deep to Jimmy Foster 9-3 for half. The French up the intensity out of half and storm back to make it 13-7, despite a nice Seigs jack to Nasser with a bunch of contact for a goal. The defense finishes a marathon point 17-8. High fives and a team picture later -- Boston was eating.

Just this in, Wiggins says Sockeye vs. Revolver at 10:30am tomorrow.
Doublewide vs. Chain Lightning and Ironside vs. Chevron Hot Flash Action at 10:45am tomorrow.
The showcase game of Doublewide vs Columbia was hotly heckled. The kick spikes did not help. Even Frances had to leave her team to heckle Salad Melancamp Hot Pepper! Night campus disc golf with our brand new World's ultimate discs was a great idea - especially on the concrete. Only 4 cars and 2 windows were hit in the process. Big games tomorrow. Less partying tonight.

What day is it? Tuesday? It was much cooler and with rain in the forecast. The pre-game atmosphere and intensity of the match was markedly different. The game speed was definitely higher with much more physical contact on the marks. Chevron was the European Champs and definitely wanted to win this game. Andrew Brown visited from the sidelines, with a full grown Canadian look-a-like beard, bow representing Invictis aka Furious, who came up just short against the Buzz Bullets 14-17 in the round before. Boston was on defense first and dug in for a windy contest, but couldn't convert the turn 0-1. Chicken, Rebholz, and Danny Clark went back to work to score quickly 1-1. Again the defense could not convert a turn and offense was left to Stubbs ripping a nasty upwind flick to Jimmy Foster 2-2. The Defense eventually forced a backfield turn as Goldstein moved the disc now 3-2. However, on the next upwind break, Teddy toed the line for a goal, but was smashed out of bounds, slamming his shoulder into the concrete wall and smacking his head bloody good 4-2. "We have a doctor. We have a doctor too." Boston was in control, but the contest swayed back and forth as England knotted the game at 5-5ish? Muffin found Nasser on the break side who ripped a big backhand to Foster for an easy O point. A Ryan Todd backhand was mack D'd before Nasser magic trick grabbed the disc through a Chevron armpit for an upwind score. Hot Pepper! Goldstein burned a timeout to convert a set play to Peter Prial for the halftime score 8-5. The second half turned windy and shitbox as Muffin and Seigs missed upwind hucks. Muffin also had a clap drop on a swing pass, but almost got the D back with a huge break side bid. The next pass, Seigs followed up with a big layout and foul. Chevron scored and spiked it. Several calls went all the way to rock-paper-scissors status, not to mention the captains twice coming out to flip for outcomes. There was one hammer catch/down call that went to fisticuffs. No noses were broken. The rain downpour began at 13-9 and Boston punched in the goal to lead 14-9 in full fledged sheets of gushing rain. Lightning hit, Hot Pepper was screamed, and Ironside climbed to the box seats. When the rain subsided, Boston re-warmed up for 10 minutes and then heard a 30 minute delay more from the TD. Much arguing later and flip-flopping, Chevron agreed to concede the game at 14-9, rather than trying to play it on turf 30 minutes later. The MVP went to the best looking English cock. The rest of the games were canceled. Castle surfing and semifinal soccer this afternoon! My ribs hurt, and Teddy can barely lift his arm. At lunch, Seigs dropped 19 tequila shots on Brute Squad, a $1 per shot. I love this country.

Through word of mouth Doublewide might have taken half on Chain. Although Jolian claims Chain was in control all game and took it all down 17-12. Revolver took down Sockeye, although the Fish made a late push 13-10. Currently, some of Boston is talking about jerking it deep as George Stubbs hears Harvard co-captain Alex Chang explain the clam to the Chinese National team in the yard outside through the window. Middlebury dork Peter Prial brags that he captained Pranksters to a tie with Wisconsin for 11th at Nationals, explaining the zone work of 7 vs 8 in practice. Off to the Czech castle and dinner for world cup Holland game as Dan Heijmen texts of his Netherworld heritage. Stories come out that Zip was yelling 'Yeah Boston" at 4am as he walks through the dorm, waking up players. It should be noted that 3 Chain players completely missed their game and a fourth showed at halftime.

A Russian bachorlette party hits on Seth-Ro, D-Hoel, and Nasser, with the wife claiming "this is my future husband." More antics as Jasper is bet $25 to race the tram up a 500 yard mega-hill at probably 35 degree elevation, only to get yelled at by the tram coming down the hill and then getting ICED. The Revolver party was basically canceled due to very early and difficult games to play next day. Hot Peppers!


However, Jimmy and Stubbs made an appearance and took it to the next level at the 5 story dance club again. As the night concluded, Foster and George trekked home on foot because they were both silly and without money. On the shortcut up the hill, J-Fo heard an animal and they scurried over to it. The hedgehog went into defensive mode, curling into a ball and not moving. Stubbs, wanting the hedgehog to move, tossed some grass on it. The startled hedgehog jumped and shivered, but did not move. Jimmy tosses grass on it again, the same result. Giggling in fits of laughter, they cover the scared shitless hedgehog in a pile of grass entirely.

The schedule just came up. Boston has games at 10:30, 2 and 5pm tomorrow. Ugh.

Boston made it to the different field site - now turf fields with a beautiful view. First up was a German team with a confusing zone defense. Nas made a sky D on the first point, but it traded to 2-2. Seth Reinhardt had a perfect under layout catch D and Dan Forrester ripped a nice upwind flick to Peter Prial as the lead stretched to 5-2. Muffin found Nasser who put a nice backhand to Trey for the sky and quick strike 7-3. A bladey downwind pull yielded half 8-3 with an end zone forced turn. Boston was in control all the way and finished 15-5. Germany gave us a vuzwella, reminding us who to cheer for in the soccer match tonight. Also tonight is jersey trade night. Colony from Australia is next up and then the Finnish team at 5pm. The winner of the pool probably gets Sockeye in quarters (hopefully a showcase game), while the second place finisher gets Revolver. Hot Peppers! I think my favorite part of this tournament is breaking the mark and hearing the marker swear in the language of his country -- classic.

The trading party started slow and then exploding in a frenzy. I dealt 4 jerseys and 2 wristbands in the first 20 minutes, and then snagged front row seats and a free beer from Ben Wiggins for the Spain-Germany soccer game. Amazing!

It is now 11:20 pm and we are begging for the cooks to reopen the kitchen and serve us soup. My mind is a pile of mush after 12 hours in the hot sun, because so much ridiculous shit happened today.

The Australian Champions Colony was our second game, their first of the day. They went zone mostly and Boston called probably 55 picks during the course of the game. The Aussies claimed there were gaps in the stack that we could water-ski behind them, Boston disagreed. Colony consistently scored on the break side and gave Ironside their first real challenge of the tournament (aside from Chevron). Rebholz ripped a huge hammer and Jasper shattered marks with his IO flick, but Australia was still up 4-5. Boston finally struck gold and stole back half 8-7. The game went 10-10, before Ironside broke twice to lead 12-10 on a Muffin to J-Fo connection. The final score went 15-13 in a stressful affair. Teddy re-cleated up and provided fresh legs while SethRo played until he coughed up blood.

The last game against the Finnish took place in slow motion. They took the early lead with huge layout grabs in the end zone as Boston continued to huck out the back from midfield. The language barrier was hilarious as their native tongue sounded mostly as gobbledygook. However, Ironside rallied and Boston stormed back for half 8-5. It was 13-10, when Ironside crushed in 2 late breaks to win 15-10. I'm so exhausted and the last pool play game is at 8:30am tomorrow. Quarterfinals against Sockeye are set for 6:15 as showcase game. Hot Peppers!

I'm not sure what day it is anymore. Boston has their last power pool game against Heads of State from Australia at 8:30am. Ironside has already won the pool by defeating Colony, so coming into the game, BI knows that it is not a must win. Regardless, any warm up at 8am sucks and our energy could not match Australia's. Boston misses an early huck badly as the offense looks disjointed and we are broken 0-1. Muffin hits Trey at the cone to make it 1-1. Ironside struggles to match Head's fire on defense, but Rebholz holds down the O with an O2 backhand ripper through the mark to Peter Prial 4-6. Australia, riding Jon McNauton's dirty accent, takes control 5-8. Danny Clark is nervous with a hamstring tweak and things look bleak for Boston. Hot Peppers! Finally, the score finds 8-11 and Boston burns a timeout. Coach Zalisk poses the question of the day -- we are gonna be out here regardless, do we want to put in the effort to do this or do we want to roll over? Goldstein pipes in, winner ice cream tastes better than loser ice cream. Purcel and Muffin punch each other multiple times and the decision is made -- we are winning this game. Ironside hits the intensity button and tweaks out as Dave Hoel gets 2 hand blocks and Peter Prial makes 3 D's in one point. Muffin puts a giant full field flick to Stubbs on O and Seigs gets a deep D and sick layout post D. Muffin murders a big backhand lazer right down the middle of the field to Peter Prial, yelling boom with the disc still in the air. Boston takes the game 15-12 as Heads of State is left to wonder what happened. Seth continued to cough up blood on the sideline and Seigs almost puked when given his allotment of Vegemite -- awful. Goldstein won his third MVP and Ironside took their meganap in anticipation of the showcase game against Sockeye at 6:15 in the showcase stadium!

Meanwhile, Doublewide is the first American team to lose to a non-American team by going down to the Swiss. However, drama erupted with the controversial finish. Firstly, the rules are pretty wack and the fields are super small. No observers makes for occasional cheating and the pick call is worthless, unless the common sense clause is evoked. Anyway, on golden goal point, Swiss catches the disc on the end zone line, calls himself in, does a victory lap and spikes it. Doublewide calls him straddle. A camera photo shows he straddled, so the spike is a turnover. 30 minutes later and much arguing and the TD called over, it went back and they scored it again to bump Doublewide out of quarterfinals and landing them in 9th place. Texas was seen moments later getting sloppy drunk as they were eliminated from contention.

Ironside vs. Sokai/Cockey/Sockey as the scoreboard teased. The fans thought the game was at 5:30 so they trickeled in and had the watch the full warm up. The crowd grew to probably 3,000 people with announcers and an air of anticipation that words now couldn't match. Hot Peppers! Ironside has the best warm up of the tournament as this is the first real elimination game. The teams stare each other down as Jolian and Chain encourage Boston. No one is cheering for Sockeye except maybe Riot. The game is intense from point one, but Boston punches first, leading 4-3 on a Nasser flick looping blade to a striding Chicken. However, Adam Simon tweaks his hamstring and is forced to leave the game. Sokai is making the points long -- and yelling "The boats rocking" when they finally get scored upon. Ryan Todd replies, "Because the boat is full of fish." The junk is working as Goldstein rips a huge backhand to Purcel for a break. Teddy Bowar gets his Jaw-in-mess when he takes a tooth through his cheek, spitting blood. When asking for ice, the medic replies it is in the truck, when asking for a towel, they reply there is none.. Seth Ro stalls Wiggins on the end zone line, using the little known travel-play-continues rule, but Ben ignores it and play goes on without an observer interjection at 6-4. The announcers are giving player's grief for stopping play with each travel, it goes mostly ignored. George Stubbs is running loose deep and Rebholz is bombing huge. Boston takes half 9-7ish. Goldstein steps up on O after Chicken goes down and plays awesome, getting a huge air D to save a break chance, as well as Matt Rebholz getting a layout poach D, also saving a break chance. However, Peter Prial misses a flick bomb to a wide open Jimmy Foster and wheels come off as Sockeye takes the lead 10-11. Trading ensures until Muffin is spiked on at the cone, the disc is respiked, although it should have been launched into the stands. Old man crazy Fleming makes the catch of his life deep and Sockeye is up 14-16 in a game to 17. Wiggins rips a flick to a wide open Skip, who begins his high stepping showboat, only for George Stubbs to accelerate and layout mack touch the disc, before Skip punches in the win 15-17. Awful. Ironside was in control, but unforced errors gave way -- very disappointing. Chicken was the most upset, not able to finish the game. Teddy won the MVP for taking stitches to his face and Boston ICED Skip for their MVP prize as he deserved it. Sewell, not an ICE veteran, choked twice, spit out half, and put up a weak effort, understandably so after a long game. Captain Todd consoled the team as best he could and was proud of the effort. Live blogging available here

Ironside had games to play the next morning at 8:30am so no sour pants drinking. Cockey had their team meeting outside the dorms and their game plan for Chain Lightning was overhead. "When Chain makes big plays, just smile. When they get D's and score, just smile." Very sneaky Sokai. Atlanta seemed over confident - only missing 2 dudes from last year as well as picking up Jolian and Sammy CK, 26 deep with entire lines over 6'2.

The semifinals were set - Revolver vs. Buzz Bullets and Chain Lightning vs. Sockeye, both at 8:30am with no other team's available to watch... lame!

Waking up this morning was awful. The repeated full warm-ups had taken their toll on the fifth straight day of playing. The 5th place bracket game against Canada's Invictus. Numbers of healthy players had dropped to barely manageable as Andrew Brown negotiates a game to 11 in order to "watch the best ultimate in the World." No arguments as semifinals were happening simultaneously. Canada struck first, taking a lead with nice breaks and spot on hucks to space 2-4. Points were hard fought despite increasing heat and early morningness. Boston took a win or go home attitude with tales of winner ice cream. Foster hauled in 3 goals and Muffin found Colthammer for 2 more as Boston responded 11-8.

Post game included a footrace to the main stadium. Once arriving Chicken and Seigs began discussing the Top 5 Hard Bodies of Ultimate. It turns out Chicken is wealth of ultimate information -- especially on the womens game. The pics were a bit Colorado heavy: Jolian, Mac, Beau, Hensley and maybe Faust, later deemed too flabby. Chain and Sockeye were exchanging blows on one field as Revolver had too much legs for the fading Buzz Bullets. Chain was in good position at 15-13, still on serve to win and just needing to hold. A Sammy-CK blade to a sliding Dylan is dropped now 15-14. Receiving to win, Swanson hucks a big backhand, but the narrow field does not help as Dylan skies Zip to throw the greatest. Sockeye is young and hungry, tying the game at 15-15. Not shying away from Chain's aggressive style, Jay Hammond rips deep but no dice as Sockeye is playing smothering gritty D. The cap is on, next point wins. Chain yields big unders in the heat and Tyler Kinney calls a timeout 10 yards out. Nate Castine wants the ball and goes wheel route for the Flying Squirrel rifle blade, which Castine leaps over the shoulder snag for the win. Chain is SHOCKED! What a comeback, I almost didn't feel as bad to losing to Sockeye for about a millionth a second. Revolver vs. Sockeye in the finals.

We made bets on the Buzz Bullet-Chain game, but it was obvious Atlanta was looking for the World Title and not third place. Boston slow plays Colony in the fifth place, asking to play to 13 rather than a full game to 17. Colony, feeling robbed after a close loss to Boston in the power pools, wanted another shot. With 5th place on the line and not wanting to lose to any team outside USA, Ryan Purcel was amped to play. Peter Prial was playing well on offense with Dan FunBoy moving the disc well 2-2. Colony was scoring deep 6-6 until Rebholz found his stride deep 7-6. Seigs blows the game up to half using a sneaky mis-direction force middle for the turnover and scoring quickly 9-6. Boston is down to 16 players, but hitting stride in the last game of the tournament. Rebholz is hitting Peter and Stubbs at will with backhand shots. Muffin sends a backhand ripper to Nas 12-7. Purcel sends a huge floaty flick pull and then follows it up with a better flick huck for a score 16-7 and finish it 17-7. We trade jerseys and settle in for the last of the Chain-Buzz Bullets finish. It was 9-8 half time to Japan and close all game. At 17-17, the Buzz Bullets hold with chilly offense and punch in a break to win 19-17. With only finals left to play, it's beer and soccer as the women's semis begin.

Women's semis was familiar foes Fury vs. Riot together and Uno vs. Brute.
Fury went up big 7-1 and looked to have the game in control. It tightened to 9-3, but Seattle made a big push 10-9. Fury punched back to lead 15-11 and finished 17-14. Brute kept it close 3-3, but faded quickly to 5-11 and 10-17.

The party was very fun, probably 3,000 people. We ordered beers 5 at a time, flutter guys proved aggressive. Table topping went down as Foster, Stubbs and Muffin were all nailed. Jimmy McMurray made an appearance! Skip was Iced, as was Stubbs by Kaela. The sneak midnight showing was rumored to be either Sting, David Hasselhoff, or Lady Gaga. Frances was probably ruffied and muffin fell asleep in the techno club while Jimmy was dancing on tables. Did I mention a 5 story dance club?

Surly made a finals appearance riding the big shoulders of Ron Kublanza, Big John Chandler, and a beastly Dave Boardman. The game was tied 11-11 before Troubled Past took the title 13-11. CLX won mixed over Canada 17-10 in the early round, which I slept in and missed a bus.

Fury vs. UNO was a ridiculous game. It was very cloese the whole way as UNO took half 9-8. The atmosphere was incredible, both teams playing very athletic, very fast. UNO's players all went to the same college and this same alumni team had been playing for 10 years, rumored to have been in Prague for a month practicing in the conditions. Very sunny and with increasing winds, Fury ties the game 14-14 with Alex Synder's smooth handling. Fury still needed a break to win and both team sensed the importance of the next point as the defensive intensity ramped way up. Fury strikes first with an awesome layout D. UNO responds with an over-the-shoulder layout D. The teams trade back-to-back-to-back-to-back incredible layout D's. The energy in the stadium was incredible as Fury took the lead 15-14. UNO ties it at 15-15 and keeps in the same line. Fury is on O for the win. A quick deep shot and the Bay Area takes down the title 16-15. Awesome game.

In the men's final, Seattle played hard and took an early lead 5-4, but soon gave way to a deeper Revolver. Mac Taylor, 5x silver medalist ('05, '07, '09, & 2nd place Callahan finish in college) finally earned a title, playing tight handler D on Wiggins and then going deep on the turnover 6-7. Beau showed off his high release flick and even launched a backhand huck which came back on a travel. Revolver was in control by halftime 6-9 and lengthened their lead as Bart Watson was hitting his deep shots. Watson also showed his faultless spirit as he called a foul on a throw to a poach D. The foul did not affect his throw and per WFDA rules, gave up the disc, playing with the best spirit. Mark Sherwood had a nice deep D and Beau had a ridiculous D in the end zone, turning on the speed to catch up right before half. Nate Castine played awesome for Sockeye, getting it to 10-13, but it was not enough to overcome the Bay Area final score 13-17. USA SWEEPS!