Friday, July 28, 2006

Summer League Woes

When I got home from summer league yesterday, I saw that one of my players (decent handler, but not much else to speak of, let's call him Mr. Complaints) had written the yahoo group and complained about how the game had degenerated into a "callfest." He noted that most of our players were in high school, none of our players were over 21, and so our lack of experience meant that we didn't know the rules that well. Mr. Complaints felt that it was unnecessary for the other team to make so many calls in "bad spirit" and that it was especially uncalled for in a summer league game.

I disagree.

Yes, some of the calls were "bad calls." That's what happens with a self-officiated sport in a league setting. Some people are inherently competitive, and will play their heart out regardless of the venue, and some may even take advantage of the rules. True, some people on the field didn't know the rules. There were only 3 high school players present, though, and none of them made bad calls (in fact, they could have made more calls, and didn't). I found that I was the one explaining the rules to the other team when they were not sure about specifics. I read the rules, have read them many times (I had to play Columbia High School). I know most of the rules pretty well. Not all, not perfectly, but pretty well. It seemed to me like there may have been questionable calls, but they came from both teams and none were made with intent to cheat. I felt like most of the animosity came from Mr. Complaints, and the only thing that this negative energy achieved was to provoke the other team into being more abrasive.

For example, I usually marked up against the other team's main handler, a tall and reasonable quick guy with good hucks and hammers. I've played with/against him before in pickup, and he's generally a nice guy. After a couple bad calls were made, this guy started to justify the calls of his teammates, or cite the rules. Once, he cut deep into the endzone, the throw went up high, I ran behind him to set up my position, boxing him out as the disc flew behind us. He turned around and said "I would appreciate it if you didn't elbow me when trying to defend me," but made no call. Another time, his teammate caught the disc near the outer edge of the endzone, and Mr. Complaints said "check feet." My check yelled "he was still in after he ran five feet." Unnecessary animosity, yes? In any case, his attidude definitely changed once Mr. Complaints started bitching.

I have dealt with bad spirit and really bad calls before, and learned to deal with them. Honestly, it seems like the best way to handle the situation is to be the "bigger man," not stooping to their level and not complaining about their lack of spirit. You lead by example, and beat them by playing a hard, fair game. I'm a big fan of observers, although I hate the idea of referees. I think we should be able to play the sport without compromising SOTG or individual integrity, and still have the sport be exciting and fun.
Self-officiation is part of ultimate, and you have to respect the other team's right to make calls. If you can't handle it, play another sport.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

The Cut of OUCH

As risk of reiterating what other notable ultimate bloggers have said, I'd like to talk for a moment about the so-called "Cut of Death". For future reference, the "CoD" describes a cut which begins behind or to the side of the thrower and is made up the line.

Initially, I regarded the CoD as a useful dump cut, with great potential for creating flow. When I joined my high school team as a freshman, I was taught an offense that began with a cut from the front of the stack: front man fakes to one side of the thrower and then flares out in a CoD. It was phased out after my first year, for whatever reason, and for a long time I thought that it should be brought back--we had the throwers to complete this pass successfully, and it made for some nice yardage gains. The only apparent drawbacks were the fact that the fake was not a viable cut, and so any decent defender would expect the flare and could shut it down with reasonable effort. Also, a poorly timed cut would generate a lot of clogging, something that we always struggled with. Thinking back, it would have taken a lot of effort to get it right, and nixing it was probably a good choice.

Today, I was playing a summer league game, my first in two weeks (the fields were rained out for a week, and then I was in West Virginia when the weather was peachy). I noticed that bodying the dump cutter mostly shut down the up-the-line. The dump then had to explore other options, and, since he was an experienced CHS alum, he pretty much got open at will by mixing it up. When he defended me, I set myself up lateral to the thrower, a good 15yds away, and faked as if to catch the dump pass behind the thrower. Once my defender's shoulders turned, I cut up the line--the throw goes up a little high, my left hand snags it, and then two opposing players sandwich me. My defender had barely caught up and the other man was playing the disc, sure, but they crashed into either side of me, flipped me over, and banged my shin and foot up pretty well. I called strip, thinking "clearly, the disc was mine, and they knocked the shit out of me on purpose. Easy call." The opponent who was not my defender (i.e. the six-something dude who came out of nowhere and jumped on top of me, let's call him Bubba) contested the strip. I was flabbergasted, and simply limped off the field, mumbling "I need an injury sub..."

I think we won the point anyway (but lost the game 8-15), but it gave me pause as I recalled the talk about how the CoD was taking down players and tearing their knees up. It seems that most people talked about how the stack was too close to the cutting lane, and some poaching defender got in the way. But this was different. I had cut well away from the stack, and Bubba had to leave his defender, sprint to where I was and then collide into me (thereby violating XVI.I.8.b). Technically, it was a foul, but I called strip because I had possession (I guess my mind was somewhere in the 9th edition or something). I probably would have called foul, had I not been so interested in how painful it was to be squished and flipped. What's up with dick calls and contests at summer league?

End result, I now have instant shin-splints and a tough time extended my foot. I also have some new ideas about how to run dump cuts (laterally, for instance, despite the way vets warn n00bs to not cut laterally, ever). I grant that Bubba was playing balls-out and maybe could have d'ed me cleanly, but how do you avoid being clobbered by aggressive players? It wouldn't take a CoD to take me down, I'm still learning to be physical on the field. What happened to the "responsibility of all players to avoid contact in every way possible" ?

Monday, July 17, 2006

Back into the Swing

3.1 mi in 22:19.
7:09mi down Regional Drive and up Stirling Road, 7:29mi over the hills of Old Smalleytown, 6:07mi down Valleyview and Mountain Ave. 1:34 up Regional Drive (0.2mi uphill). Average mile: 7:12 (7:09 without the last uphill of death).

Then, yoga--which I enjoyed enormously, and plan to continue.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

This and That

Yesterday, I went for a decent run. Don't know the distances, but a 13 minute and a 10 minute, short break in between. It's a bit of a struggle to keep a real schedule, because there isn't anything else in my life right now that provides structure. Plus, I'm leaving for a week-long work camp in West Virginia on Sunday, which will not really include running. I think I'll finish out these couple days with some good workouts, then do a lot of body weights while I'm down there, building cabins and such. Upon my return, a schedule is in order.

But honestly, what is up with cancelling all the summer league games this week? The park shut down, and I haven't played ultimate for like two weeks. I haven't played good ultimate since the state tournament, but I won't point fingers--mostly because they would point back at me.

Sunday, July 02, 2006

The Longest Run

Yesterday, I ran the longest distance I have ever run.

~6.8 miles in 57 minutes. Average estimated mile time of 8:38, or 7.16 mph. The final two miles were completed at a significantly faster pace, but I had no timing device on my person--the iPod ran out of power with 3mi to go, and I had to rely on my start/finish times to figure out those averages.

It was surprisingly easy, at the end. The third and fourth miles were unpleasant, but I expected that. I think I will step up my workout plan (after today's rest) to include longer distances; two 3mi runs, for instance, rather than one 3mi run, or perhaps even ten miles at a time. Of course, I'll soon be integrating track workouts and interval work, so we shall see.

I'll take a two-day hiatus for a road trip to North Carolina, where my uncle and I are going to pick up my brother's car and drive it back for him. Catch you on the flip side.