Playing Left Handed

Today was Hangover, a 1-day ultimate tournament in Seattle. We spent the whole day running around breathing in the cold Seattle air trying to chase down a disc before it hits the ground, only to gladly fling it in the air again once we caught it. And then doing it again and again.

I genuinely like Ultimate, but I've begun to get bored of it. In college ultimate, there was always change. Every year a new batch of recruits to teach the rules to and teach 'em how to throw a flick. Every year more folks moving on up to the A team and trying to compete for a shot at the national title. And every year, your opponents changed similarly; it might have been the same teams, but it was always new people. And some years, we'd get new coaching squads, so we'd be tasked with learning an entirely new offense to the sport. Or new defensive positions and plays. It was awesome.

Things have kind of slowed down since then. I play with a bunch of folks who live around here. They don't graduate and move away. There isn't an A team to move up to that still feels like my team. There aren't coaches to teach me anything I don't already know. There aren't 60 new recruits every year to get excited about. And there's no championship to work toward. There's just us, a crowd of friends who like the sport, against other crowds of friends who also like the sport. They don't change, and neither do we.

That's part of why it broke my heart when my college alum team decided to get competitive. There's one tournament a year up here where everyone from the US (and around the globe) joins up to play some ultimate, and that's really the best time to play with folks you haven't seen in forever, and whose bonds should be stronger than ever, on account of being teammates for 3-4 years. But that's a sore spot, and a whole different story.

I needed something to change. I don't want to quit playing; that's a bit too drastic of a change. I want to try something new and work hard and improve at it, or just try something new and fail miserably.

So I've decided to be left-handed for winter. We'll see how things turn out in the long run; right now it's mostly a "failing miserably" situation. I played one game last weekend left handed and actually made some pretty decent plays. Today I played mostly left handed and didn't fare much better.

I don't really notice it, but apparently my decision to have shitty throws for the next 2-3 months (or at least most of today) has really upset some of my teammates. I tried going right-handed for half of one game, and it upset me terribly. It kinda helped me see how my mind works when i'm playing the game.

When I play right-handed, I play with years of experience. I'm not so sure that I'm *actually* the best player on the team, but i definitely psyche myself up by telling myself that I am. I play hard and controlled, thinking in high-level concepts about the entire game, like judging the wind and tilt of the disc to throw something that will fly to a specific part of the field and slow down so my teammate can get to it. All these things just come naturally to me because I've done them for so long.

And then I notice when my teammates turn it over. It hits someone in the hands, and hits the turf. Wind catches a throw and it goes too far. Or they throw it right in the ground. And it upsets me. I've worked so hard on my game, and you're just going to take my disc and let it hit the ground. It's not right. I don't like it.

But when I play left-handed, none of that worries me. I'm thinking about myself. Where I'm standing, what grip the disc is in. What person closest to me can i get rid of the disc to so I can start running again? I genuinely don't want to turn it over, but it doesn't worry me when it happens. It's more "Oh well, nice try, we'll get it back."And sometimes we do.

And that's really the attitude I want to have on the field. This isn't elite-level here. This is C pool. If we're out here to have fun, let's have fun. Yeah, turning the disc over sucks, but complaining about it and getting personally offended by it (as I do when I've got my competitive switch turned on) doesn't really help the team.

But then again, neither does being (without exaggeration) the worst thrower on the team. But, like I've told hundreds of kids before, that should just come with practice. Hopefully, it will.