Process of Illumination

Dear Grand Masters and Masters Women's division players,

We're all set for this weekend! Following the bi-annual East Coast captains meeting in April I rounded up everyone's addresses and phone numbers. (A few of you are now using something called CompuServe but I can't figure it out! We only got a facsimile machine this year.) After trying to get a hold of everyone for weeks and weeks, I finally did. Had to leave a bunch of messages but got called back by enough teams finally man. Enough commitments in the end. For the first time you can't just roll up to the tournament and expect a bid -- we're getting serious or something.

Speaking of, can you believe the UPA is making us wear numbers on our jerseys?? And no more tie-dye, sorry everyone! I was shocked when I received the uniform requirements (by mail of course).

The fields are supposed to be super-kind. I can't believe a pro soccer team has its own stadium, but apparently the fields that surround it are nice. My team is looking at a nice long drive -- 20 hours!! We should roll up in time to play the first round (+40 minutes -- Ultimate time!).

OK, couple of other crucial bits of information... we are not using the Wham-O 80 Mold! Some upstart named Discraft is providing something called an Ultra-Star. Eric Simon said it's legit, so that's fine by me. Also, go over the rules, dudes! Word on the street is we will not be playing by the 7th Edition, but instead the 11th Edition. I hope we get lined fields ... I know, I know, I've never played on lined fields in my entire life, but hoping might just make it happen.

I heard a couple volunteers are also coming down to write up articles for the newsletter, so tourney results will be freshly delivered sometime in September.

All right friends, see ya in Denver! Drive safe -- and definitely go the speed limit!

p.s. No camping at the fields! Sucks, I know.

They say deaths of famous people come in threes, so I've dodged another bullet. Farrah, Michael, and then, tragically, Billy Mays.

It's an ironic shame that after having endured anal cancer, then the breech of her trust and confidentiality at the hands of her medical team, Farrah's light was eclipsed totally by the passing of MJ. With one improperly-administered painkiller to the King of Pop, her thunder was silenced. She was on the front page of CNN for less than 4 hours.

Then, naturally, MJ's death blew up the news and threatened to "take the internet with [it]". Our long infatuation with stardom is such a well-worn groove these days I won't do much here but note the passion with which we responded to it. One of my good friends in Denver was incredibly upset, and told me later her father had been similarly distraught, near tears even. Fair enough.

But my surprise at the wellspring of condolances following Billy Mays' death threatened to sand away at my well-seasoned, ironic view of the world. Given a news-cycle's reprieve from the MJ death, he was on CNN's front page for almost the entire day after he was found dead. Here we are, after all, mourning a man who made himself famous because he was good at getting so excited about products that we wanted to spend our money to have them. I've used OxiClean before. Meh. Perhaps my letdown was in the fact that somewhere, deep down, I had hoped using it would make me experience life and consumerism with the same euphoric passion Mr. Mays displayed. I submit that it did a slightly better-than-average job at getting the stains out, nothing more. And although I am genuinely remorseful that he had to die so young, with so many cleaning supplies yet unsold, I'm still pretty deep in the anti-infomercial camp. I am already bracing myself for Ron Popeil's obituary.

None of this has anything to do with Ultimate, of course, but if you made it this far, it's fair to tell you that I am the captain of Madison Club, along with Carleton GOP alum Seth Meyer, and that after only two practices I can safely say it's going to be a very work-intensive and rewarding season. Kansas Prarie Fire's victory over a much-depleted Johnny Bravo tryout squad at Live Logic can't be dismissed, and with Sub Zero filling its own voids (CUT standouts Lindsley and Kanner are MIA this season, along with the Madison contingent that's staying home, and the departure of Kevin Riley, CallaHeijmen, and the unsinkable Andrew Brown to various parts of the globe), Chicago Machine is looking to be, at the beginning of the season, off to the best start. But that still leaves 4 front-runners angling for 3 bids. Here come the musical chairs.

Two thing about Machine (ok, three). First, word is they cut many (all?) of the BAT guys who tried out for them. That says to me that either they're already very deep and didn't want any out-of-towners, or they made a few poor managerial decisions. Second, while planning our tourney schedule, the Midwest teams had discussed all going to the same area tourneys so as to get the most competitive games in before the series. To that end we were contacted by Chicago, who requested we all agree to go to Hoosier Hodown in Indiana, and since we were debating between HH and Motown Throwdown anyway, we decided it wasn't a bad idea. A week after we'd contacted the TDs of the tourney confirming we'd go, Chicago contacts us again. That sorry, but there were actually a few weddings unaccounted for, and an ingrown toenail, and sandy vagges had gone unmentioned, and could we please instead go to another tourney, one that better suits their schedule. We responded with the most polite "fuck yourselves" possible. We want to play the best competition, but we're not chasing after anyone on their scheduling whim. Sub Zero is attending MUDI, so we all went our separate ways. We have till Colorado Cup to mingle amongst ourselves.

(last thing I wanted to say is about Tyson Park, who is back and "playing" for Machine this year: I want you there buddy, badly, because it means I might actually get to see you this year, but I'll believe it when you're cleated up at regionals.)

Former Hottest Man in Ultimate Valley Renshaw is back to form, it's being said. My only comment to that is that Nick Nolte was once People's Sexiest Man Alive (no joke, 1992!). Times change, hair buns get cut. I suspect he and Jerrod are still going to be formidable, and I hope they don't think for a moment the other teams are sleeping on them. I did find funny they complained to Colorado Cup that they wouldn't attend unless they were guaranteed a spot in the elite division. Can you believe it! I actually LOL'd. They lost in semis of the open divison last year and they're complaining about the competition being too easy. Rein in those horses, buddies. You've got this whole season to prove yourselves.

But, for a moment, let's step away from club Ultimate and focus on the immediate task at hand: Potlatch. After a fortuitously overbooked flight back to Madison from a trip in the Grand Canyon, I scored a free ticket that I used to book my trip. Considering that I was recently let go from my job for the summer (bummer), I plan on subsisting on tuna and mustard/mayo packets I plan on stealing from some area deli (but am certainly not above receiving charity in the form of food, etc). I've got a tent lined up, a ride to the fields and back (I think), and I'm fired up about playing.

It's my third time back. The first was made memorable by events that have already been written about here, the second by my fun participation in the MLU experiment (2nd in fantasy behind Nord, bitches!), and this one has yet to lift its skirt and reveal its secrets and treasures to me. Still, there are a few things on my mind as I head there; some unrelated to Ultimate and thus for now omitted here, and some very much about my team and my role as a player.

Downtown Brown, bless its soul (pun intended), has outgrown its ability to be a single team and maintain any sense of playing rhythm and thus competitiveness, especially in light of this year's national teams, and so for Potlatch it was decided by special junta that in the spirit of Champ-bracket representation we'd bring a parsed team with the hopes of knocking down a giant or two on our way through the tourney. There was debate about this, and it will continue in our circle once there:

By what criteria should one get to play on Downtown Brown? Should the only burden of proof be that you not be white (although it has had a whitey or two in its history)? If so, does that only serve to strengthen the us-vs-them mentality that we (or at least I) purport to be fighting? In light of Obama's campaign speech on race and identity, how is it that we're defining ourselves as a team? I am all Mexican pride, and if you know me or have seen me I literally wear it on my sleeve (and skin). Yet playing division along racial and ethnic boundaries has never sat well with me, and because I've spent so much of my life growing up vastly outnumbered by whites, it would have been incredibly self-destructive for me to have drawn a line between myself and Them.

So the question remains then, who "owns" Downtown Brown? Who should get to play on the team? It's great that players of color have reached a critical mass that now forces us to ask these questions. Certainly when I started, we were the exception to the rule, and the opportunity to play with other brownie ballers made me salivate. But should that be enough? This is, after all, an Ultimate team, not a national multicultural PIRG, and when we meet we're going to play Ultimate. As much as I love playing, I am also a fierce competitor who loves winning, and while I identify myself certainly as a brownie and more specifically as Hispanic (and even more specifically as Mexican), when I'm at a tourney I see myself primarily not as any of these things, but as a player. The ultimate community is my community, and on what promises to be one of the most competitive coed tourneys I've ever played in, I want to be on a team that is as good as it can be, and that requires that choices, hard choices, be made.

Rest assured the debate is only just beginning. Feel free to give me your two cents either in the comments here, or along the expansive Burlington fields this weekend. Peace.

The time is nigh. With half the team already en route, we depart from downtown Madison feeling good about everything. I'll write more tomorrow after we've arrived if I can find an internet connection somewhere.

In the meantime, come along on the trip with me here. My musings will be reactionary and reflective, and I'll keep all the alumni abreast of the events going on between the lines, the things you won't be reading about on the Score Reporter.

Safe travels and good luck to everyone. Walk hard.

You. 5th year player. Nationals begins in 3 days; Your college career ends in 7. Has that reality sunk in yet? Of course it has. I doubt anything other than that reality has been on your mind lately. So, how long have you been freaking out then? A couple of days, a couple of weeks, or have the last several months come crashing down upon you? For most of you, the school year has indeed ended – graduations and commencements come and gone – and the only thing left is to figure out summer employment plans… and win a championship. Yet, in the rush of college life – sometimes the reality that this segment of your life is finishing goes unnoticed. Do these 5th year seniors realize that their college experience has ended? Nope.

This is the first time in the 6 years that I have been a part of the Hodags, in which I have not seen a 5th year player break down to tears during a team huddle when realizing that it was their last College Regionals or Nationals. Usually it's a captain or officer, who is overcome with emotion upon realizing just how much the team means to him. I vividly recall Dan Miller and Jimmy McMurray choking back tears when they tried to articulate what the team actually meant to them. I remember Dan Heijmen’s teary long-winded speeches, Rebholz’s moment to collect himself, and Rodrigo breaking down when the moment of realization came – all of these reflected in their dedication to the program.

And that is what Wisconsin does to its ultimate players. It makes them care. It goes so far as a sense of identity. Ultimate is not something I play – Ultimate is who I am. No wonder Wisconsin consistently turns out dominant programs – the players just care more. However, so far this season, no graduating senior has addressed the team in such a manner. Either the 5th years are especially good at controlling their emotions or it hasn’t quite hit them yet. As hard as it was for me, as impossible as it was, I hope this year's crop can push those thoughts out of their minds for at least one more week. It will be over before they know it. I have seen the 5 super seniors of the Hodags grow, develop and mature into stud players – and now I will have to watch them – like the many before them – learn to deal with life without college ultimate. Departing from a college team of your best friends is no easy feat. It's a death in your life. Your teammates will move away, your camaraderie and everyday interactions will fade to memory, and you will eventually need to cope that fantasy land is over and real life begins. But one more summer of fun can’t hurt anything…

Musings by 2007 Callahan Winner Dan Heijmen

One aspect of the Callahan discussion that I don’t think has been given enough attention is the fact that Jim Foster, while being the Hodags go-to player, is also their coach. This write-up isn’t meant in any way to diminish the accomplishments or talents of any of the other front-runners for Callahan (Mac, Stevie, Will) but to say that these players have all benefitted heavily from having a coach. I know from playing against the three guys I mentioned above that they are studs on the field and command the respect of their teammates and opponents. I have seen Mac, Stevie and Will do amazing things on the field and know that they are leaders in the huddles and most likely have a strong influence on their team’s strategy/personnel/ line calling etc.

What I do want to talk about what its like to be a player/coach on a top-level ultimate team. Let me just say from the start that it’s really f-ing hard. Even with the support of your teammates having a responsibility to your team in two different facets takes a high level of patience, focus and dedication, especially if you are able to continue to play at a high level. On the Hodags we know that the player who takes the role as the “senior captain” is sacrificing quite a bit. Having been in that position myself I was almost crushed under the pressure of having to be a playmaker on the field while retaining my responsibility to coach and run the team. The transition b/w being the junior captain (i.e. first year captain) to senior captain (second year) was a jump I wasn’t fully prepared for during my last year of college ultimate. Knowing that Tom Burkly, my senior captain in 2006, was gone scared the shit out of me. I was entrusted with a team that had just come off an incredible season that came up just short of a national title. The pressure was on us to deliver a championship. Due to this weight, my play suffered severely the first half of the 2007 season. I played (what I consider) the worst game of my ultimate career in the finals of Vegas (a universe point loss to Florida,) as a direct result of feeling like I had to “be the guy” while trying to coach, call subs, change strategy etc. I was lucky enough to have guys around me during that game who picked up my slack (Jim Foster for one, had an incredible game, highlighted by a ridiculous sky of Kurt Gibson off some trash I threw into the end zone), but in the end the loss was on me and my inability to successful function as both a player and a coach.

Throughout the season I knew that I wasn’t playing at the best of my ability b/c I was so focused on the rest of the team. Sure I could lock in while a point was being played, but being in that mindset throughout the game is not a luxury you have when you’re responsible for gauging all the different factors of a particular point/game/day/tournament or season. Having this sort of responsibility on a college team, whose goals are so high, is incredibly challenging. Its not like in Club where you can count on the majority of your teammates knowing where they should be and what they should be doing. And with the premium the Hodags have always placed on developing younger players, the distraction to a captain’s individual game can be huge. I don’t mean to imply at all that Jim is doing it all on his own, or that the other Hodags aren’t doing enough. In my time as a captain with the Hodags I had an amazing support system during my last year which included Matt Rebholz, Dan Miller, Muffin, Matt Scallet, Jack Marsh and yes, Jim Foster. I know Jim has the same. These players made up the leadership core of the team and we got together often to discuss strategy, personnel, schedules etc.

But come tournament time, a lot falls on the shoulders of the senior captain, in this case Jim Foster. He has been entrusted with a team that has won back-to-back national championships, but that has lost many of the familiar faces that made them up. As was mentioned in Jon Gaynor’s recent post: gone from last year are 5th year players like Shane Hohenstein, Drew Mahowald, Matt Rebholz, Will Lokke, Muffin, Kevin Riley, Chris Doede and Seth Meyer. Each of these players was invaluable over the past two seasons. The strong, vocal, experienced 5th year presence is perhaps not as evident this season compared to seasons past. Yet look at what Wisconsin has accomplished so far this season. Perhaps not the dominant regular season from the past 3 seasons, but a guaranteed top 4 seed in what has been the craziest college ultimate season we’ve seen for the last 6 or 7 years. He has molded a team comprised of the most inexperienced players the Hodags have had since the turn of the century into one of the few teams with a shot to win nationals.

And despite what you might think about the top programs in the country, it is not easy to stay this good from season to season. Especially when the knowledge and responsibility is not embodied in a coach who has been there year after year, but actually passed down from player to player, each season interpreted and implemented slightly differently. That Jim has been able to individually have the season he’s had is nothing short of remarkable. It is a testament to his focus, his determination and his love for his Hodags. I get razzed quite a bit from former teammates for throwing around love like this, but it is true for us. That’s why we scream Hodag Love before games/after games/after practice/and whenever we get together. That’s why Hodags play like they do and that’s why Jim can scream, “We’re the fucking Hodags” in a huddle and it has an immediate response. It is an amazing thing to be a Hodag: To be part of something each season that is incredibly unique yet so clearly connected to the teams of the past, and I know that captaining them has so far been the privilege and honor of Jim’s life. We take it pretty seriously in Madison.

And despite the frustration that I’m sure sets in for Jim from time to time, wishing that maybe for a game or a practice he could forget being a captain and just play, he knows its worth it. Sure it makes the losses harder to stomach, but the wins are that much sweeter. And if you’re lucky enough to make it to Columbus, and to watch the Hodags the play, you’ll see them play with an intensity that is unmatched, spurred forward by their leader. The best and most valuable player in the country: Jim Foster.