Chowdafest

Which featured mediocre chowda. Also, a tournament. The following is a recap.

I got screwed on the ride up. My ride supposedly emailed me mere hours before she was to drive us up, and this email (which I never got) explained that she "had a chance to go up early, and took it." In other words, I was chopped liver. Luckily, my lovely lady was shipping up to Boston early Saturday morning, and her parents dropped me off at the fields on the way up. I arrived half an hour before our first game, against the Smartwhores. We came out slow, but reigned it back in to win on universe point. Next up was FNG: another slow start, crawled back to win 12-10. Then we played Grey Till, who was even more tired than we were by this point, and we rolled them--7-1 at half, won 9-2 at the cap. The rounds were very short, and the heat was oppressive. It was humid, and the thick air was exhausting to play through. Your cleats felt on fire after playing a couple points in a row, and we spent our bench time in the shade.

Our next game was against 7Express, and again we played under our level. The girls really had trouble playing savage, and we went down 7-9. The team as a whole had problems with offense--we ran German most of the time, and gave up the disc too close to the endzone. Defense was nominal at best, mostly because of the heat and lack of rest. I do remember throwing one of the prettiest hucks of my life in this game, a flat forehand to two streaking ladies for a goal. Perfectly placed. My handling was comparatively poor on the day, however, and I was frustrated because I basically only got called in for D points. I had not expected to play so much D, and it was dispiriting that we couldn't force a turn, or couldn't put it in once we had. I feel like my mental game was taxed by playing so much D--on offense, I usually know my job and know that I can get it done. On defense, I'm less in control. I have to react more, dictate the pace less. It's also frustrating when the D's O gives it back up.

But I tried to not be such a pussy, and grappled with my being relegated to the D line. Tried to take it as an opportunity to improve that particular part of my game. By the time we played Slow White, our 5th game of the day, I felt a little better. We went up 3 points on them immediately, basically through good D and ridiculous O--one of our girls covered their tall guy, because she knew him and knew that he wouldn't take her deep, so I covered a lady handler. Two of these points came when we forced the turn, I threw a floaty huck to our tall kid from Colt 45, and he pulled it down. The other converted turn I don't remember. At this point, I recommended that we slow the game down and play a possession-based offense until the cap went on, but somebody else called for "one more!" and we promptly forced a turn, gave it back, then gave up the lead. Slow White then threw zone, and we went down 8-13. I turfed a backhand during this game, but also skied a kid in the endzone on defense and did some other good things. Throughout the day, I played very streaky--some points off, with a drop or bad throwing choice, and then some points on with solid O.

The provided dinner was decent. Edible hamburgers, tasty but tough chicken breast, bland hotdogs, iceberg salad, mass-produced fruit mix, delicious watermelon, and mediocre chowda. The red was good, the white was nothing like I hoped it would be. Some intense Uno went on in the hotel room, then we went out to 99 for some food, back to the hotel for a solid night's sleep. We had decided to trade places with 7Express: 4th in the pool instead of 3rd, because we wanted Sunday's first-round bye into the Chumpionship bracket instead of an early-morning two-and-out in the champ bracket. So, we got to sleep in!

Sunday was better weather and better offense. We went down 1-5, then cruised to an easy victory against The Gaspee Affair. We rolled over Porkchop, then won the chumpionship against White Rhino. I played much better today, including tighter D, some skies on both sides of the disc, breaking the mark, completed hucks to girls, and crisper cutting/handling. I feel that the season will enable me to play closer to the top of my game more consistently, so I won't need that much time to get in the groove as I did this weekend.

In closing, some players don't know the rules. Some of these guys are also bitches. At least three people fouled me this weekend, but called foul on me when I just accepted the contact. One big dude on Porkchop backhanded me across the stomache, hard enough to take the wind out of me--I was giving him disc space, he initiated contact, yet he called foul. Some kid on White Rhino tried to get his body in front of my dump cut, I went to run around him, and he threw himself into my path. I powered through him, caught the dump, he yelped "foul!" Are you kidding? Vying for the same unoccupied space is incidental contact. I think it might have been the same guy that got pissed when I ran in front of his in-cut while trying to follow my man out of the lane, as if I had picked the offensive player somehow. In any case, I contested and set up as dump again. Stall comes in at 6, I fake to the same side as before, he jumps over, I hop to the other side and catch the dump from Judith, break backhand for the goal. The next point, I broke him backhand for the goal again. I don't like it when people make bad calls, but it makes it so much sweeter when I roast them afterwards.

My favorite play of the day, though, was against Porkchop. Colt 45 kid gets the disc near the endzone, I look to cut to the forehand side and see him cock his wrist to throw. Right as I see him release it, Judith and her defender plow into me--I hadn't seen them clearing out, because I was facing the other direction. Everybody on the field heard a smack as Judith hit me in the face, I felt like a boxer who just caught a right hook. I pushed through and opened my eyes to see the disc falling yards to my left, I chase it down for the goal. Gotta love coed.