Sunday, February 06, 2011

Moments of Greatness, part 2

There are a few other layouts I vividly remember.

One year I was at the Stanford qualifier. I forget which team we were playing against. I was trailing my guy by a half step to the open side. The cutter did a stutter step to try and fake me out just as the thrower was committing to his un-juked cut. I didn't buy the fake and kept running. I leapt toward the disc shortly after it was thrown.

I was a more experienced player at this point. I knew I had the D. But as confident as I am, I always aim to get to the disc first however I can. There's always a chance that the offense will lay out and get the disc if you don't, or maybe it will just be macked to someone else on the team.

But in this case, I had slightly overestimated the distance I could lay out. As I flew through the air I saw the disc racing towards me. Reaching out right in front of me, I could see it in my sights. Then I began to fall.

The disc didn't fall with me. It just floated as I began to descend back to earth. I could see it keep going up and up above my eyeline, and I kept reaching higher up, from eye level to above my head, to reaching as far up as my completely horizontal body would let me.

It seemed like forever. But the disc was still in my reach as I descended. I snagged it in my right hand as I hit the ground.


My final year of College Ultimate I found myself in a familiar situation. College Sectionals in the spring, out of the running for advancement into Regionals, but playing a close game against Cal's favorite rival: Stanford.

There was one long point. Both teams had turned it, but now Stanford had the disc and they were being very patient with the disc. Our D held them to a few short upfield throws, only to have them dump it shortly after. The sidelines were relaxed since this game didn't matter for Regionals, but patient play is far from entertaining to watch. So the sidelines were occupied with heckling & cheering their team on.

"Hit the mismatch!" shouted a Stanford player.

I looked at the guy I was guarding. He had been giving me a bit of a challenge cutting, but nothing I couldn't handle. He was getting tired, and lingering in the vertical stack to keep the lanes clear and catch his breath.

He was about 6'2" compared to my 5'8" self. I was obviously the mismatch they were shouting for.

"It's not a mismatch." I yelled back to the sideline.

My guy ran deep. This was the biggest threat. I have to work hard to out-maneuver and out-position a tall guy to catch a high disc. It's substantially easier to just keep better positioning and make the thrower not decide to throw the disc. I sprinted to stay deeper than the person I was defending.

The thrower didn't put the deep disc up, but my guy wasn't done cutting.

He planted and made a hard cut in to the break side. I planted and ran with him. The thrower saw the opportunity he was looking for and unleashed an inside out flick toward my guy.

It was over in a few seconds. I ran with my guy and flew through the air just to his left. I slapped the disc out of the air with a satisfying smack. I landed about 10 feet from the sideline, right in front of the hecklers who had called for the very throw that I just blew out of the sky.

I jumped back up, and tipped my hat to the hecklers, and to my teammates roaring at the ludicrous display.

"Told ya"

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