#yourultimatedump

I don’t know whether or not anyone will have noticed, but I’ve been rather quiet on this blog for a few months now. I’ve been blaming writer’s block, but today I was honest with myself and said aloud what my problem is: I’m not enjoying Ultimate anymore.

My main issue lately is that I’m not a very good player when you consider the amount of time I’ve been playing, and the amount of tournaments at which I’ve competed. But I’ve had some pretty poor coaching in my time playing Frisbee, in that I haven’t had any. And my main tie has been to an inherently selfish team. And personally, I’ve had issues with health and fitness, which have hindered my progression. All of these things rolled up together have made for a poor Ultimate player, and my patience with myself has dwindled throughout the tour season.

I used to be able to hold my head up high after trainings, games, and tournaments. I could leave and know that I’d been an asset and it was worth going. But lately my confidence has been so low that I can’t even bring myself to participate in drills, and the idea of subbing on starts feelings of anxiety. Why? Because I make the mistakes of a beginner. I can’t seem to do anything right, and no matter how many excuses I make, I know I’m not fooling anyone. My team mates are as frustrated and impatient as I am, and I know that I hinder my team more often than I help.

When all of this negativity is spiralling around me on pitch, it gets very difficult to socialise properly over tournament weekends and during training sessions. I feel so ashamed of my poor performance that I can barely convince myself that I deserve to speak or take part or even be present. Some people have been openly rude towards me in the past, and others just don’t speak to me at all. The few that do are probably only doing so because of my boyfriend.

And there’s the other thing. The Ultimate boyfriend. A huge part of our relationship takes place at Ultimate events because we’re long distance, and it’s because it’s something we’ve always bonded over. We’re even on our way to starting our own team. Why would I do that when I bring him so much negativity at tournament weekends, though? I’m so stressed about playing badly and annoying squad members that I’m snapping at him and getting moody when I’m not getting the reassurance and affection he doesn’t even know I need after I’ve done such a terrible job.

There are so many wonderful things that have come out of Ultimate in the past that it’s hard to believe how miserable it makes me these days. So hard to believe that I know how difficult it would be to quit. But I know I should. I know it’s not making me happy and that it’s draining what little money I have and that it’s taking up time. It’s just such a huge part of my life already that I wouldn’t even know how to begin letting go.

So, in essence, my ‘decision, decision’ is this: do I keep forcing myself to play, in the hopes that I miraculously get better? Or do I hang up my discs and baggy shorts and thank Ultimate for the short time I had with it?

I need the Ultimate community’s help one last time here. Please, please message me with any advice or insight you can offer. And please share this so I can get a wider scope of ideas. All I know - at this point - is that I can’t keep playing in the state that I am. It’s taking a toll on my health and this situation needs to be figured out ASAP.

A quick disclaimer as to why this is an ‘ish’ story... Tour was the messiest and most baffling tournament I have ever attended. I’ve never been so emotionally detached from a frisbee event, and it was pretty unnerving for me; so much so, that I didn’t even write down any of the scores. All I know is we lost all but one of our games... So here’s what I’m going to write today: the lead-up to Tour, the conditions once we got there (ugh), and then a vague description of what the games were like. Then I’ll get onto the exciting bit: my first experience of Spirit of the Game in play for real. Eep!

So, I didn’t actually sign up for Mixed Tour 1, only 2 and 3. This was mainly because I didn’t think I’d have time because it’s my deadline period right now; the other just because I wanted to save my money for frisbee events over the empty space that is easter and summer break. But alas, a bunch of girls dropped out of the second team, and Reading asked me if I could pick up. Once offered a discount price, I couldn’t really turn it down. I scrambled to get my work finished, packed a bag, and headed to Reading to then drive to Cardiff on Friday night.  It was the usual scout hut set-up, except with way more people than before, because of outdoor sized teams. A bunch of board games and card games kept us occupied for a few hours before settling in... I’d managed to bag the corner with a socket and a radiator: luxury living! Woken up at 7.30am, however - by Matt throwing discs at me - I realised my special corner wasn’t enough to prepare me for the horror that awaited us once on the field...

It was Wales. Already, the weather was going to be horrendous. But it was also a storm... But not just any storm! A Welsh storm. The torrential rain was coming down in sheets, and pretty much sideways from the wind. Discs could barely go more than a few feet before flipping vertical and rolling around on the grass. I say grass, though; it was mud. Pure, sticky, gets-a-hold-of-and-doesn’t-let-go-of-your-shoes mud. And puddles. Puddles deep enough to lap over your shoes if you stand still in them. No coat, blanket, tent, or brick wall was enough to protect you from this weather. But, of course, we’re frisbee players; if we want to play, then we play. Alas, I didn’t really want to play, but having gone that far and to not take part would have been ridiculous, so we all slapped smiles on our frozen faces and got on with it.

And then I got injured. Typical. I have this thing that only occurs outdoors, but it hasn’t happened since last year, so I figured I was safe... But basically, my knee joint feels too weak/ loose to handle the weight of my calf and shin. It feels like my leg is hanging off, and everything is just pulling apart. The pain is excruciating, and enough to take me out for an entire tournament. Unfortunately, four of our six girls were injured, so not playing wan’t an option. I spent the hour-long games choking back tears and trying not to scream as I made one unsuccessful cut after another. D was better, despite running in the cup so much, but at least I knew where I should be running, and it was enough to mildly distracts me from what felt like fire in my leg. My team did well, though, considering the circumstances. We had way too many guys, but they all put as much as they could into it in order to work through the wind and rain. The cutting was off for most of the first day, but by our fourth game, it started to come together a little more. Some amazing Ds, and some hucks cut through the wind amazingly. Unfortunately our oppositions were able to work through the weather conditions better than us and often broke down our D with quick passes. It was bloody exhausting, and I knew by the end of the first day that I was so not okay with playing three more games on the second.

We were well aware the weather was going to be worse on the second day thanks to the forecast, but it was worse than I could have imagined. Arriving at the venue, all I could think was ‘the end is nigh’... Honestly. It just plain wasn’t safe. Just walking on those pitches would have meant slipping over in the mud, or being knocked over by the wind. What would have been more of a concern for those in charge of the venue would be the state in which we would leave what was left of the pitches. They’d have spent thousands repairing what we tore up after just one game, let alone the four or so that would take place on each pitch. Arriving, everyone was in denial. Though in kit, no one was in boots. No one was throwing a disc or warming up; if they were, they were doing stretches indoors. Some were putting anoraks on underneath their kit tops, and others were just sitting in their hoodies drinking tea from paper cups, hoping they’d never have to step outside. And then the GB teams start warming up. Pitch discs are put out. Some unlucky souls are changing into studs. My heart dropped to my stomach when I realised the day was going to continue. Reading 1 were up against GB Under 23s first, and my team mate counted one successful pass out of six... Oh heck. 

Then the spirit started. As soon as our captain arrived, he asked us whether or not we wanted to play and - if we did - under what circumstances. We had a conversation as a team, confirming that we did want to play (mainly just to say that we tried) but that we either wanted to shorten the game or lower the cap. Matt - the cap’n - went to our opposition and suggested a hardened cap lowered from 15 or 7, to which they agreed. Matt also informed them of the issue we had with injured ladies, and asked how they felt about us promising a line of at least 2 girls instead of the 3. The angels they were, they said they were fine with it, and that they’d simply put on as many as they wanted, and we didn’t need to match.

Now think about it... Had we had to do this through a referee, would that have happened? Probably not. This is it. This is spirit. This is why Ultimate is so special. We were able to treat one another as groups of humans instead of teams of players, and make an informed and empathetic agreement betweens us so that we could enjoy the event as much as we could. That game - despite it hardly looking like a game, considering how often the disc was on the ground - was the most fun, well-spirited of the weekend. Flump were having a wild time out there, joking and laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, and it spread. Despite wanting to cry from pain and cold and discomfort, it was just another reminder of why this community is my favourite in the world; why this sport is something I just can’t seem to give up. Anyways, we won 8-3. We had a quick chat after the call and decided between us that we’d play our other games if our opposition wanted to, but only if they’d allow fewer girls on the pitch: I was out for the weekend.

Inside, I found the captain of our next opposition talking to my team mate about the sign that had been put up downstairs. It basically consisted of:

‘Due to the weather, we recommend that you cancel your games for the remainder of the day. We cannot force you to do so, although we ask you to agree to any changes in rules or play that you wish to put in place with the captains of your opposition.’

They didn’t want to play, of which we were grateful. However - from what I gathered from my team mates - once Matt told them that we weren’t keen either because of our girls situation, they were suddenly cool with playing. They said they’d play, but only if we put three girls on for every point; which would mean our remaining girls who felt capable would be iron-manning it. This was too much to ask, and they knew it; I think they were trying to get us to concede. Nonsense, considering we were about to agree on a forfeit when they originally approached us. Any excuse, I suppose. Spirit, eh?  Anyways, we landed on a forfeit in the end, same as with our third game of the day. The turmoil was over after one measly - though horrible - game, and we were able to shower and just chill until Reading met GB for the final.

They won. Against GB. They won Mixed Tour 1. Reading. Reading Ultimate. RU won. They won Tour. Against 2 GB teams. Reading. That was Reading that did that. They won the thing. The Tour thing. Against GB. Reading beat GB twice. Twice to win Tour 1. WHATATATATT.

(We went up by 2 seeds. Not so bad, right?)

This title has been sat in my drafts for a while now, but it will still go nicely with my Post-Game Speeches post in the Tournament Hacks series. See, the former is to guide you in spirited speech-giving to the opposition, but in some ways, this is more important: talking to your own team after games. Now, I’m a firm believer in the idea of reading whether or not - as a captain - you really need to pull your team together and have a serious chat about the game. If your communication on pitch is good enough, it may not be necessary; if you have nothing new to say, then repeating yourself will just bore your team. Even still, there are times when it’s needed, so here are some things I’ve picked up.

1. Know what’s public, and what’s private.

Sometimes individuals on the team need some constructive criticism on a certain aspect of their game. Sometimes beginners are being lazy cutters, or the one handler keeps putting up those stupid throws. Although they are things that affect the whole team’s game, it’s often best to have these conversations one-on-one. Not only will they get more out of it because they can ask questions, but they won’t feel embarrassed in front of their team. Anything that involves plays, general positioning, or issues involving one or more person, say them to the group.

2. Don’t be a hogger.

Even if you are the captain of the team, you weren’t the only one on the pitch: there were plenty of others digging deep to win in the game you’ve just done, and they all have their own thoughts and opinions. By all means, kick off the talk, but let everyone else speak, and let them finish. Don’t let anyone speak over them, and discuss anything new that’s brought up; be that as a group, or one-on-one. You’ll often find that your team mates will pick up on things that you haven’t, and these are the things that could save you a game or two!

3. This isn’t The Blame Game.

If you’ve just lost a game, it’s really easy to make excuses. Don’t do that. It’ll make your team lose respect for you, because instead of objectively thinking about the strategy and technicality of the game, you’re just pointing the finger. Now, I don’t just mean at your team mates or your opposition, but blaming yourself is also destructive. If you don’t believe in your ability, why should your team? Don’t be a drip, and think about the game! Think about why the cuts aren’t getting anyone free, how to get the D tighter, who might do a better job elsewhere. If you don’t have anything constructive to say, don’t say anything at all!

4. Positivity please.

This links in to number two a little, because it involves the ‘letting your team speak’ thing. Perhaps encourage (not force) your team to make as many positive comments about their team mates as humanely possible. Up the morale and let the bonding commence. This is almost a backwards way of advising people: instead of telling a group what they did wrong, tell the person who did it right how well they did, and let the others follow suit. An old captain of mine also used to ask us what we thought we did best ourselves, which was very beneficial for self-esteem.

5. Know when to shut up.

This is how it sounds, to be honest. Once you’ve made your point, let everyone walk away and move on. Especially if you’ve lost! If your communication was good on-pitch and you still lost, then there’s nothing you can say now to change anything. Just give commiserations, and use number 4 as much as possible, and then slap a smile on and walk away. There’s no better way to kill high spirits, or to boost negative ones, than a captain who just keeps talking and talking and talking and talking and... you get it. Just shut up.

Unfortunately we forgot to take team photos at Club Mixed Indoor Nationals, so here are the four photographs I did take over the entire weekend... Beauties, I know!

Featured are: 

Alrighty folks, this is the big one! Well... Big for me. See, Fly Hard never puts me on the first team; I’ve been told in the past it’s because of my spirit and my patience, so they need me to keep morale up on the second team, and to be ‘the experienced one’. With this, I’ve never been on a first team. I have also ever been to a Nationals tournament - despite the fact I’ve been playing for three years - because I’ve only just started picking up for teams, and I’ve never had the opportunity before.  So you can only imagine my excitement, anxiety, and confusion when Reading Ultimate - who has the second best open Ultimate team in the country, and went to International outdoors last year - called me and asked me not only to play for them, but on the first team. Wow. I haven’t slept or eaten in the past 3 weeks, and it is all due to the lead up to this tournament. And here it is, followers: Club Mixed Indoor Nationals.

I went up to Reading a day early so that I could get some indoor training in with the university team, and then outdoor training with the people with whom I’d be competing over the weekend. Unfortunately anxiety got the better of me - as usual - and I was unable to participate in the latter. However, watching Reading Ultimate’s impeccable cuts and flawless discs was a real eye-opener to just how high a level I’d be playing over the weekend, and a way to help me realise how much I needed to step up my game for the occasion.  The next night, we made our 3-hour car journey to Sheffield. Here, we would be staying in a Scout Hut, sprawled out on air mattresses, roll mats, and huddling into sleeping bags for warmth. There was a small kitchen, an office, and the toilets were outside in an outhouse. My frisbee experience is getting weirder and weirder. Anyway! We stayed up pretty late playing board games and card games, and then settled down to sleep.

Dan’s alarm woke everyone at 8am, though I was already awake due to the sun streaming through the window directly in front of us at dawn. I raced to get into my brand new kit - and the wonderful red shorts loaned to me by Mark - and shovel some cereal into my gob. Bags packed and adrenaline pumping, we jumped into the cars and headed over to Ponds Forge.  Arriving and checking out all of the kits I had seen before, it only just clicked what Nationals really was: all of the teams Fly Hard could never beat at Regionals; all of the teams that were our hardest of the day normally, were every single one of our games for the next two days. Even though the team was seeded at 7th and was perfectly capable, I did not feel the same way. ‘Don’t panic’, was all I could think. ‘Don’t Panic, don’t panic, don’t panic...’

No time to panic anyway! The first game of Nationals was at 9.20 against Phat ‘Eds, who were the University of Sheffield team. They didn’t need to tell us in the call that they were dominantly made up of beginners; it was clear in the unsure cutting, the wobbly discs, and frequent drops. Nerves were definitely getting the better of them, but that didn’t slow us down. A bloody good warm up for the team, we were able to practice feeding those overheads into the iso, and getting that instant continuation to the end zone. Some strong defence play alongside some really spot-on discs, and the game ended 10-1. They only thing I remember of my personal game was dropping the first point in the whole game... No reason. I just fumbled and dropped and looked like a tit. Ugh.

Alas, Reading 1 met Chesham Kites on pitch an hour later. I recognised the team from Sicko, but none of the players; these guys were much better. Their girls were competent with the disc, and had some strong defence, so I struggled to put a lot of pressure on them. They utilised turn overs without any issues, and they forced us to work for every pass, let alone every point. Some silly decisions were made by Reading here; unnecessary showy throws, and overconfidence causing drops. A loss at 7-4 hit us in the face a little: we needed to step it up if we were going places, because that game definitely should have been ours. Particularly when they were seeded 23rd... Woops.

Now for our third game, and time to redeem ourselves: Black Sheep. I don’t wanna brag here, but I rocked this game. Like, I was a damn machine. Gunbie got me in a running iso with Bex or Tree, and Joe helped me to position myself in the end zone. With these slight changes and a bit more clarity on my movements, I was on it: 4 points scored by me, and at least one assist on top of that. Everyone was digging deep to make the positive play. We also threw a zone in to slow them down, which was reasonably effective; the mids kept the disc swinging a lot, and the deep definitely took out their overhead options on multiple occasions. Even on man, we were chasing down discs and putting on incredible pressure for tougher grabs. A win we needed at 11-2, and the confidence was back up.

Gotta Catch ‘Em All easily had the best kit at the tournament, with pixelated pokeballs and other graphics on them, and then instead of their names, names of their favourite Pokemons: genius. Anyways! They had some tight flow and read each other’s movements well, but they weren’t the best team there by any means. Having watched them already - and having had such a great game before - I was confident we’d take the win. They didn’t make it easy, though! The false sense of security put our guards down, and we kept letting in sneaky points at the last moment. We struggled to keep our defence tight enough - once again switching to zone later on - and let too many deep runs follow through. Even still, our discs were a little more accurate than theirs, and our iso play was almost undefeated. The score never had more than one or two points between once everything was in full swing, and everything remained intense throughout. However some amazing bids - from Bex in particular - took them by surprise, and by using that split second to pop the disc out again, it allowed us to pull away 7-5. Unhappy as we were at how tight the game was, we were relieved to have taken the victory.

Last but definitely not least were Dazed + Confused, seeded first. They were always on when we were off, so I’d watched all of their games that day, and was getting extremely nervous. I didn’t know which girl I was most terrified to man mark, how we’d break down a zone as tight as theirs, or how I’d outrun any of them when the time came. Despite my fears, our performance in this game gave them the shakes as well. Having come into the game a little too confident, we took the pitch by storm. Despite them starting stronger, we didn’t make it easy, and clawed our way back up on the scoreboard consistently. The zone definitely slowed us down a lot, but we worked through it multiple times; sometimes we fumbled by the end zone, and sometimes the efforts paid off. Either way, we weren’t completely trounced when we lost 9-5, and they definitely respected some of our play by the end of the game, despite dropping to 12th seed at the end of day one. For me, though - regardless of numbers and stats - to have kept up in a game that intense with such experienced players was a big deal, and I left on a high.

The set-up of the tournament meant we were done by lunch time, so we scrambled to get our stuff together just as the third and fourth pools were streaming in, and made our way to Wetherspoons for food and recaps of the day. Once our food had gone down, a trip to Primark for those who needed swimming costumes were in order... What, we weren’t going to go swimming for two hours after the tournament!? Psshh.  All I can remember is Ben getting stuck in one of the foam rings, Gunbie trying to get his knees onto the foam board, Fidler and Ryan consistently trying to dunk people by going under water and pulling their feet from under them, and literally being thrown. Other than the funsies that took place, the water actually soothed a lot of budding injuries, and made for a shared calm demeanour.

Once dried and dressed, we drove back to the scout hall, where card games instantly resumed their power over the group. A group went to Tesco to buy an unholy amount of pasta and mince, and made a colossal amount of Bolognese in the teeny kitchen with the giant saucepans - which reminded me of old-school tin baths. I ended up having a kip through dinner because I was so shattered, but woke up in time to join the others in a card game introduced by Louisie, and then the longest game of Munchkin I will ever witness. The latter kept everyone up until about midnight, and then everyone threw their jimmers back on and settled down for another rough night on the floor. I didn’t sleep Saturday night, mainly due to what felt like oncoming pneumonia, but also anxiety about keeping my performance up for day 2.  When the alarm sounded at 8am, I was so. Not. Ready. Alas, a repeat of the previous morning, plus the mission of cleaning the hall and packing up our things, we were on the road again.

Nerves were kicking back in, in time for the first game of the day, but I did my best to carry my confidence from my previous games onto the pitch with me, facing Flyght Club. Now, I’ve watched these guys win Iron Fives - one of the girls at Nats both handled and chased in the final of the former without ever slowing down, and I just wanted to bow at her feet - and had also seen them go far in other, smaller tournaments. They were intimidating both on and off pitch, and it was a bit of a harsh way to begin the day. Even still, I wasn’t the only one aware of their skill, so we went in fighting. Though having been in a tough pool the day before, they were a little over confident and came in a bit causal. Even still, the points flowed onto the board a bit too easily at the beginning whilst we were warming up. Their defence play only kept us at bay for a few moments before we got our courage together to work the iso, though. We made some silly decisions - which they cheered for, as if it was their good defence as opposed to our poor offence - and that made us a little shaky. Despite the drops, we built ourselves up and forced them to work for their points later in the game, and followed theirs up with our own. The buzzer went at 5-5, and we were on offence. Nerves kicked in, but our final five went in fighting. Three turnovers, over the top throws, and finger-tip drops later, Flyght Club pulled in that last point with a simple pop past a marker. Frustrating and horrifying, we lost. Ugh.

A painfully long wait for our game against Mustard, and we came striding onto the pitch with great confidence. Having watched them over the weekend, we thought we had the edge on them: not just because we had more experience, but because we knew a few of their traits by now. You know, this girl will catch anything, and this guy is super quick, sort of thing. Anyways, we weren’t quite as solid as we thought. They demonstrated some very tight flow, and trusted each other’s hands immensely. Beautiful grabs and generally accurate discs meant a constant intake of points onto the board. Our defence fought against them pretty hard, though: we let them get that under, and kept a tight force, and put a lot of pressure on the longer catches. Using those turn overs made all the difference for us, and we never let them get ahead of us, and ended up winning 8-6. Phew!

Yet again, we waited so long for our next game that I’m almost certain if I slept, I would’ve gotten a full REM cycle. Anyway, it was time for Mixeter - Exeter’s mixed team. Now, I have a little story about Exeter... Two years ago at my first ever tournament, I had serious anxiety issues. I hadn’t competed in a sporting event since I was 12, and had no idea what to do in such an intense environment. Exeter was seeded the highest in our pool, and was our first game of the day. Stepping on the pitch against them had me shaking and ready to vomit, but I had to do it; my team was counting on me to participate. The girl that was on me was a fan of front-marking, and was agile as heck. She stared me down and didn’t let me move more than a foot at a time. When the disc turned over, and I set off to follow her, I suddenly found myself unable to see, and my legs felt weighted. Yes, ladies and gents: I fainted. Except when I fell, I smacked my head on the floor, and woke up instantly. Whilst I was out, Exeter scored. I walked off the pitch and found my team mates laughing, thinking I’d just tripped myself up. Nope. Exeter made me so nervous, I decided to temporarily die to get out of playing.  Seeing Exeter at Nats - and not only Exeter, but the girl who marked me - was terrifying. I finally caught them up and was playing on a team at their level, and I just wanted to redeem myself. And I - we - did.

I didn’t spend a lot of time on offence in this game - I mostly came on for the defence points, and then stayed at the back during the iso, letting Bex or Tree or Joe get the assist and score once we turned. Anyways, I felt okay about my defence game - I stayed super tight, and my men didn’t get the disc very often. When we switched to zone, I moved from chase to mid, and fell comfortably and effectively into that. They struggled to move through our defence play a lot, and ended up putting out a lot of shabby throws, usually going too far or catching the net on the sideline. Once again, we used our turns effectively and got some gorgeous points - a couple of beauties from Maura - and came out with a winning score of 8-5. 

With that second win of the day in place, we were up for the plate, facing Shake Down for the spot. Another team I’d met at Iron Fives, I had a vague idea of their skill level, and knew that even though we were better, they would make us fight and work and beg for our points. I wasn’t wrong, readers! Unfortunately, I wasn’t very involved in this game, and I can’t really remember a lot of details. I recall some uncharacteristic drops from a few players, but I also remember some incredible interceptions, and some very quick turn overs from us. Tight D and good sideline communication slowed them down, but they eventually snuck past us for points every time. No one was pulling away, and both teams were crawling up the scoreboard very consistently. Despite how close and intense the game was, the spirit was great. In the end, we came down to another tie-breaker on the buzzer, and similarly to our game with Flyght Club, it was some silly decisions that kept turning over the disc for both teams. Unfortunately, Shake Down stayed true to form and got the disc past us one last time for that winning point, and took the plate with 8 points to our 7. A real blow for Reading, and a finishing seed of 13th.

Subway, Starbucks, the Avenue Q soundtrack, and a 4-hour drive later, we were back home in Reading. I can’t help but let my mind keep drifting to this experience, and I continue to reflect on performance. Of course, I don’t need to think about Reading’s performance too much: they were tight, intense, quick, and spirited consistently throughout the weekend, and I was incredibly proud to wear their kit. What I keep thinking back to is me: did I do everything I could? Like I said, the first two games on Saturday were overruled by nerves, but once I found my feet, I remained as strong as my team mates for the duration of the day, my confidence growing stronger and stronger. Sunday, though... Not great. I didn’t feel involved or important in our play, and my belief in my ability on offence was dwindling. My defence was fine - good, even - but it wasn’t enough to make me feel sufficient to be on those pitches. I’m hoping my next experience at Nationals will give me more consistent confidence and proof of skill, but we’ll see. Until then, I am in Reading’s debt for giving me such an amazing opportunity, and for including me in their Indoor fight. You guys are fab, and I do hope I get to share a line with you again one day.

Just in case anyone was interested, the following are Reading 2′s scores:

R2 1-11 Smog

R2 4-9 Mustard

R2 5-9 Black Magic

R2 2-6 Lemmings

R2 4-8 Omega 3

R2 3-7 Gotta Catch ‘Em All

R2 9-3 Brizzle Kicks 

R2 6-5 Phat ‘Eds

 I’d like to say that this story is about Fly Hard, but I don’t think that would be fair to my team, or even remotely true. You see, my team let us down a little, and nobody was keen for this tournament… Probably because most of them haven’t been to a Sicko event before, and don’t know how fantastic they are. Alas, a beginner and I were the only ones volunteering, so I took it upon myself to find us a sufficient amount of players to pick up, so that we didn’t lose our spot. With this, we took four from Reading Knights, another from Rawhyde Winchester, and another who we have ties with from past tournaments. With this, we became Flying Knights, and took on our opponents in the Open Division. I also picked up for the Mixed Division, but I don’t have any memory of those scores or games - it’s a big mixed blur! I shan’t be writing about those games, though I may mention them. With that, here is is: The Open Sicko Story.

Much to our relief, the Open division didn’t begin until much later than Mixed - probably due to the smaller pool - so we didn’t have a game until noon. Tim grabbed the Winchester players from 9am, and after a journey made solely through villages and country roads, we got over to Burgess Hill with oodles of time to spare.  We met our Reading pick-ups, one of them called me Hitler, and then we made our way down to the pitch to play Swansea. Already aware of how good they are, I went in as pumped as possible, trying not to worry about the lack of experience of playing with my boys. We overcame that very quickly, however - it helped that we had a team of handlers - and had an even game that ended in a draw, 7 points each. No one pulled away with more than two points on the score throughout the entire game. There were a lot of unnecessary turnovers by both teams at the beginning, but once we warmed up, it was a decent standard of play with some great grabs, and some really intense D. A fantastic way to start the weekend overall.

Seeded second, I was nervous about our game against #KnifeCrime. Strong, leggy, and experienced blokes filled up their line, and seeing them made me crap myself a little bit. They rightfully beat us 14-2, using their height and strength against us, bidding for discs I wouldn’t have dreamed of catching. An impressive team - ending up in the final - and a tough game. It squandered my happy energy a little, but I did my best to keep my head up for the next one in an hour’s time.

Surrey have always had the edge on Fly Hard. Always. We’re such an even match but they always pull away from us in the end. It is a constant source of frustration, but it also means that we get a really fun and competitive game with them whenever we meet. With this, to say I was pumped for this game would be the understatement of the century. Considering we had a completely different line of players that our past games, I was so eager to see if we could take them, or if they’d work around us even better. Neither. It was as it always was, constantly coming back with point after point, getting plenty of Ds, some crazy bids in the endzone, and an even game all around. The points started pretty long while we warmed up, but we both got on it after a few minutes, and we ended 7-6… To Surrey! As gutted as I was, I kept in mind that this was the first team, thus the strongest they had. Considering our pick-up team hadn’t gelled in the way that they had by training together, I kept my head high, and was very proud of what we achieved. Besides - we could meet the second team later on!

The final game of the day was Chesham Kites, who had a line not dissimilar to #KnifeCrime, though not quite as high a standard. All-male and strong legs, comfortable with hucks, and aggressive - though spirited - on D. I’d met a couple of them earlier in the day, so I knew that they were good guys. Still wanted to smoke them, though!  Unfortunately, nobody remembered the score of this game, but they definitely won by a wide margin. We tucked in a few points, but they read our discs and intercepted them with ease, and their strikes to endzone were like lightning, and we couldn’t keep up. They trusted one another’s hands beautifully, and really played the disc into the endzone well. A deserved win by them.

Having played the four games mentioned, and then an extra three for Reading, I was beat. My calves were starting to feel solid and my shoulders were aching from practising hammers. Alas, no rest for the wicked! Straight into the showers at the venue, and to the train station. Reading remained in Brighton for the night, drinking and bonding with my Winchester folk. Ben, Mark, and I decided that an adventure to the 5 Europe event in Clapham seemed fitting, so we headed up there for the night. To be fair, we spent most of the evening walking around run-down areas of London, and eating an obscene amount of food in McDonald’s, but the event was nice enough. It was pretty packed with older Ultimate players, and the pub was really nice. We stayed for a couple of hours and just chatted. It sounds dull, but it was really lovely to spend time with them.  Back on the train to Brighton, and we arrived at our host house a little after 11pm. It was a little basement flat underneath a terrace house, where an Ultimate couple lived. We stayed in their living room, which was warm and cute and lovely. They were fantastic hosts! Anyways, we stayed up a bit longer and played some game the Mark brought (I’m sure Ben will remind me what it's called once he reads this), ate the chocolate we grabbed from a 24-hour Budgens by the station, and then crashed. Ish. Ben and I spent at least 3 hours tormenting Mark before we settled down.

Up at 7.45, we drank the coffee we were offered by our hosts, got dressed, gathered our stuff together, and just about made it in time for our train to Brighton station, and then got to Burgess Hill from there. After a crisis with having too many people and not enough seats in Tim’s car, and the Winchester boys not waking up two members of our team before they left, we were in a bit of a pickle. Only four of us were there, and we had a game in 10 minutes… So for one game, we were Flying Surrey Knights! (Thanks again to those pick-ups). 

Once again, we started the day by playing Swansea. To say they were hanging wouldn’t even scratch the surface - we could jump ahead to the call and quickly mention here that their captain fell asleep during the speeches. Anyway! I wanted to take advantage of their ill states, but it didn’t quite work out the way I hoped. It turns out we were just as tired as they were hungover, and were sluggish about our play. The first 8 minutes or so of the game were a bit of a write-off: Dropping every disc, throwing into empty space, and pointless attempts at scoring points. It was almost comical. They eventually pulled it together a little faster than us, and won the game 7-5. A few more minutes and we might have turned that score around, but never mind. Time for the 3 hour wait for the next game!

I kept on my toes by throwing about on empty pitches during the Spikeball games - practising hucks and overheads mainly - and playing with Knights for their first games of the day. Eager to get going with Fly Hard’s long-awaited game, it did not go over my head that we weren’t playing Surrey 2 - we were back against our original opposition. Something changed in this game, though. We suddenly pulled together and absolutely rocked it! We started using Wisby in the endzone more, utilising his height, and being a bit more confident with overheads. We also made more progress with our three-handler set-up, and relied on our ability to swing it a bit more than we had been. With these improvements, and their surprise at our changed style of play, we beat them 7-4. It felt a lot more even than the scoreline reflects, and we paid them their dues. It was a win we deserved, though!

On to the next one against Scuba Divers (they had a girl!?!?!?), who had been awesome around the venue for the entire weekend. They were really friendly guys, and were liberal about handing out their Hobnobs. Seeing them on pitch upped my spirit immediately, and I had a feeling that this would be a really intense, but wonderfully fun game. They came out with stronger play than expected, however, and we had to change up our O quite a lot to work through their men. They had us running ourselves into the ground, trying to keep the pressure on in their strikes to the endzone. I managed to cut out my men - and girl (!?!?!?!? :D) - a reasonable amount, but they were too quick for us in the end. Unfortunately this is another score that I don’t remember, but I’m sure we had a handful of points on the board - they just had two handfuls! A fun game, though, and a good call. I hope to come across these guys again.

Straight back to a game with Knights after the call, and then back again for Fly Hard to take on Chesham Kites. The game began how the last one had remained throughout… Only worse. Like, it was as if we’d all forgotten we had legs and hands and that we didn't know we were supposed to catch the disc. For 5 minutes, we fumbled about while the racked up some points, and I started to wonder if we were actually dying. We snapped out of it, though, and by that point the opposition had already relaxed a bit and stopped pushing themselves so hard. With this, we got back into the swing of things, using the same play we had against Surrey, and suddenly pulled back a fair amount of points. They got in a bit of a panic for a bit, but returned our hard play evenly, and we remained intense and on point until the buzzer went, and the scored showed that they beat us with 6 points to our 5. Another two minutes on the pitch, and that could have been ours. We were gutted, they were relieved, I was emotionally exhausted.

The final game of the tournament was against Surrey 2, the team we had expected to meet earlier. Aware that the score was so close with Surrey 1, and that we had nothing else to do after this game, this was it: Leave it all on the pitch! Ben took this a little too far and left his blood on the pitch, but that’s by the by. Our game was on point here: The flow was impeccable, the overheads went straight on target, and the D was as intense as I’d seen it yet. Surrey were fumbling the disc a little, putting out shaky throws and making silly drops. We used their turns well, and racked up the points quickly. They didn’t make the job easy in the slightest, but we just remained a little tighter throughout, and finished with a score of 9-3, giving us a seed of 7th for the whole weekend.

Overall, Sicko was an incredible weekend. Although I definitely didn’t play my best - particularly on the second day - both Fly Hard and Knights put up a strong fight against their oppositions, and came away with some moments to remember. Loads of bids and Ds, and some gorgeous flow from all involved! Thanks again to the pick-ups who joined us for the weekend: You made Fly Hard look good! Come back and join us whenever you’d like. Also thank you to Reading for letting me join them. You guys are absolutely fantastic players and people, and I’d be thrilled to join you any time you need me. Final thanks to Mohawks and Panthers for hosting, and to Becca and John for letting us sleep in their house!