My College Playing Days - Part 1

There have been times, in the years since college, that I wish that I had only known about ultimate as a serious sport sooner. I long to have the years back when I could have been learning a decent forehand, could have been refining defensive techniques, could have ... should have ... didn’t. That is not the way it was to be for me.

Sure, I had been shown the light during that first weekend of college, back in 1983. Ultimate Frisbee was actually known outside of my little high school in Connecticut. I found out that many other people around the country not only knew about the sport, but were actually far more adept at it than me. Those college initiations can be rough.

My next experience playing Ultimate was towards the end of my freshman year. Apparently, my loony roommate knew the game from his high school years in Houston. There was a campus-wide sign-up for spring intramurals and Ultimate Frisbee was one of the sports. My roommate, Donnie, came in to our room one day and asked me if I had ever played.

“Yeah, some in high school. Why?”

“Well, they are taking sign-ups for spring intramurals and Ultimate Frisbee is one of the sports. It’s one of the few sports that I will deign to play, so what do you say? Let’s cobble together a team and have some fun. Maybe we can meet some chicks.”

This, the meeting of “chicks”, “babes”, “honeys”, was always his number one priority. And he was shockingly good at it.

“Sure,” I said, not knowing exactly what I had signed up for. But I definitely knew that after a year of hellacious studying and squeezing in six-day-a-week diving practices, I was just about going crazy, I thought that it would be a nice break. Besides, we might actually meet some “babes.”

I set about recruiting some of my teammates from my failed intramural soccer team thinking that, hey, at least they will be able to run and will have some field sense. Donnie managed to round up a ragged assortment of guys, girls, and ... others ... from his friends in the fine arts school. Our team was secure with a semi-fluid roster. The team name and logo were decided after a particularly long night of drinking at the campus pub (ah, the days of being grandfathered in as an eighteen year old drinker).

We would be the “Happy Mutants.” Our uniforms were white T-shirts with a yellow smiley face sporting only one eye, dead center. Obviously, we were not taking this too seriously. But, after all, this was Ultimate Frisbee. How could anyone take it that seriously?

During those few intramural Ultimate games, I witnessed many of the emotions that would sweep through me in the years to come. I remember standing, staring at a particularly graceful pull as it settled over the far endzone. I recall much laughing and silliness. I remember moments of frustration and anger at perceived indiscretions and slights. I joyfully reflect on fleeting images of transcendence and accomplishment. All of this within the confines of, maybe, eight minimally competitive, very unskilled intramural games in a college much better known for its scholars than its athletes. And yet ... Reliving it now, I realize that these emotions and experiences were not qualitatively different than those I would have later. Perhaps only quantitatively different. The games may have meant little, but the fun and the effort were not so vastly diminished by the lack of import.

Where we placed in the final league standings ... I actually don’t remember. Not last. Certainly not first. We had fun. I had shown myself to be a pretty good player on a not-so-good team. I enjoyed myself.

After Donnie transferred out at the end of the first year (more hot women back at the University of Texas), there was no incentive to hold the Happy Mutants together anymore. Studies were burying me deeper. Diving continued to eat up any possible off time I might have. I had no energy to consider some odd fringe sport in my sophomore year. Seven classes one semester, six the next. My roommate figured that I spent roughly 76 to 80 hours a week either in class or studying. Ultimate didn’t stand a chance.

My junior year, I wanted to move off campus. My second year roommate would have been a good match, but he was way too busy trying to get his multiple math/systems science/electrical engineering/computer science degrees. He had no time to breathe let alone consider the possibility of hunting down an apartment in the local area. I scouted around for possible other roommates, but the pickings became very thin. My closest friend, Adrian, was so wrapped up in his fraternity that he couldn’t possibly move out of The House. My girlfriend (and oddly, her mother) were both keenly lobbying me to move in with her. But apparently, some deep seated instinct in me foresaw the coming debacle, and I opted out of that arrangement.

Now, who am I left with?

There is this guy Gary that I hang out with occasionally. He and I are on the same intramural soccer team - The Swamp Flies. We manage to get along most of the time. He is kind of annoying, sometimes, but he sure has cool frisbee throws. And he did manage to keep me sane through our shared calculus and computer science classes. He was funny, but he was a little too much like me. His girlfriend, Suzy, was my lab partner in physics my freshman year. Apparently, we decided that one decent game of Ultimate was enough to base a semester of cooperation on. It didn’t hurt that I always thought she was kind of cute. As long as she didn’t decide to break me in half like a twig.

Against the general consensus of everyone that knew both Gary and me - which was that we would be tearing each other’s eyeballs out in less than six months - we figured that this might work out. Two short, curly headed, slightly hyper, smart asses with acerbic wit and a stubborn streaks a mile wide - you might as well cage two shrews together. We signed a lease for an off campus apartment for our junior year. It would be Gary, Suzy, me, and Odd Brian - the computer geek. This would work. It had to. I had no real alternatives.

Junior year of college. Gary and I are living together ... without bloodshed ... despite the best predictions of the most knowledgeable. Once again, in the spring time, when the engineering problem sets diminish slightly, the swimming and diving team is quietly closing out their season ... Gary mentions that he has started up the official school Ultimate Frisbee Club. From scratch.

“What?!?” I ask. Not exactly sure if I should believe him.

“Well, I got a group of players together last semester. You might remember refusing my invitations to practice with us?” Actually, I did. “Well, I wrote a charter, and we are now an official club sport of Washington University.”

“Congratulations! I guess,” I say, not realizing how difficult this whole operation has probably been.

“You want to play with us this Spring?” Gary asks me.

This Spring? I think to myself. I have multiple term papers due. Uncountable number of engineering problem sets between now and then, plus, I am still going to be diving until early March.

“Um ... maybe.” I say. “How can I possibly fit this in?” I ask myself.

Often, Gary tries to cajole me out to practices. Once or twice, I acquiesce. I discover, in those few junior year practices, that I am faster than most of the people on the Wash U team, but less skilled. The only things I have going for me are my ability to jump relatively high for my height - a product of those years of diving, I guess - and my speed. I have only one reliable throw, a backhand. And it is an air-bounce backhand - always.

Towards the end of my junior year, Gary convinces me to go to a tournament, an Ultimate Frisbee tournament, somewhere in Springfield Missouri for something called College Sectionals. None of this means anything to me except that I understand that we will be playing frisbee against other colleges. What a novel idea!

We go. We lose. Not every game, but most games. I don’t remember the scores. I just realize that there are some people playing at other schools that are much better than any players I have seen before. Gary seems disappointed, but he actually played very well. He is much more accomplished in multiple throws than most anyone else there, but he doesn’t have anyone to throw to consistently. Athletically, we can’t match up against the other top schools - Missouri and the Kansas Horrozontals. Kansas in particular seems unbeatable.

On the drive back, I am excited. I may not be as good an ultimate player as I thought I was, but the flip side of that means that there is much more to learn and heights to climb. Ultimate as a fun competitive outlet - what a novel idea for me.