Moments of Greatness, part 1

We all have moments of greatness. Times when, for a moment, you are unbelievably fucking awesome. There's this tight ball of excitement that builds in your chest in the moment, which sends ripples of electricity through your entire body. It can happen very quickly, but the mind slows down the time, or at least the memory of it, so you can savor just how unbelievably fucking awesome you were in that one instant. 

Some folks might have this feeling when accomplishing a huge task at work or winning in a sport. For me, all my best moments of greatness are my layout D's.

That is my only layout ever caught on camera. This is all I know about how I look to others in one of my moments of greatness.

I don't have a good memory in general. Names, birthdays, things on my to do list, why I just walked over here; all these things I forget. But these moments I remember. I can just close my eyes and feel them happening, in slow motion, all over again.

My first layout D was in a scrimmage at UC Santa Barbara against their B team. They have a gorgeous grass field that overlooks the Pacific ocean. I think it was my second year of playing ultimate; for the first year my teammates were trying to teach me to lay out, but I couldn't. I'd want to get the disc, but I always thought the only way I could go faster was to keep running, not by jumping in front of me.

The guy I was guarding ran deep and then in on the break side. I followed. The thrower tried to hit my guy with an inside out flick.

Then I jumped. 

Then I closed my eyes.

I felt the tip of my finger hit plastic. Then I sailed past the intended receiver and landed chest first on the soft, muddy field. I felt slightly dazed; I wasn't really aware what had just happened. I looked back over my left shoulder just in time to see the bobbled disc tumble to the ground. 

Holy crap. That was awesome.