Worlds 99 who'da thunk?
So, I have been commanded to make these 'posts' more interesting. This one may be a good place to start. As I stated in the beginning, I wanted to try and capture all of the worlds that I have attended, mostly for my benefit, and if somebody wants to waste a few minutes reliving with me (probably poorly, or drily as one person has described it), then so be it.
So, at this point, we have now won consecutive 5 national championships and the team is definitely starting to show its age. We held off the Condors twice at Nationals 98 (where did they come from?) to win in our closest final yet. When we left Minnesota in 98, we had just been iced by the young guys from the 2nd Boston team after the miserable performance at worlds (and an appropriately labelled Best Game Ever for the Northeast Regional Betty Bowl). The spring is now over, and we are starting the dance again trying to pick up some yute's to fill out the team and renew the team. Having represented the US in the 'Olympics' of ultimate 2 straight times, the team is far less excited about going to Scotland for the Club Worlds as just another team in the hoi polloi. However, there are still enough players that eat, sleep, and breathe Ultimate that not going is not an option. However, they only number 8. So we decide to pick up a bunch of the young guys again, and some other randoms, and head off to Scotland for Worlds. At this point, it is no longer a tryout for the young guys, we are just waiting on them to decide, but figuring that they will make the right move.
I'm flying out Friday evening to get to the tournament in historic St. Andrews by Saturday afternoon and I am one of the last people to leave Boston. Friday afternoon, I'm talking to Jeff "Dick" Brown, who has just gotten off the phone with one of his Tufts proteges. The word on the street is that the young guys have decided to blow off joining us yet again and that the new team is already planning their practices, roster, etc. I am, of course, stunned at the news, and wondering what the hell it is going to be like for the next week playing with a bunch of people that have iced us yet again. Do I bring it up, and how? So naturally, I focus on the most defenseless member of their bunch, Justin Safdie. During the opening ceremonies Saturday night, we are all in this large meeting room/gymnasium listening to someone speechify, music, etc., when I sidle up to Justin and ask him "So, what are you guys going to call yourselves". He IMMEDIATELY knows what I'm talking about, and gives that little embarrassed whine of his. Mission accomplished. The week is now shot, and we are going to be going through the motions. At the same time, the pressure is off, and we can just focus on having a good time, and we'll worry about the fall when we get back.
9. 1999 - Club World Championships - St. Andrews, England - DoG
www.wfdf.org/events/wucc1999/index2.html
The US has sent some reasonably full squads to this version of Club Worlds. Ring, Condors, NY, JAM, Houndz and others are here at what is effectively full strength for a tournament of this caliber, which makes our presence all the more amusing, as we are playing with 8 DoGs, 5 Dark Horse players, and 3 other pickups (Seth, Casey and Ben), who we are also considering for the fall. Not exactly a worlds shattering team. While we have played against each other quite a bit, except for the previous Worlds in Minnesota we really do not have a tremendous amount of on-field experience as teammates. But after the events of the first night, everybody knows the score, and we are going to have fun even if we suck eggs, godammit!
The tournament starts with an easy beginner pool, even for our skeleton squad. Easy victories on Sunday over Cynics and Flying Angels has us thinking maybe we will make it out of our pool. Monday victories over Ultimatum and Catch 22 have us thinking maybe the quarterfinals? Meanwhile, the abuse of the backstabbers by the current DoG players continues unabated. I'm loving these early games. I'm even able to get in for some defensive points. Finally, on Tuesday we have our first real game against our good friend Anders Jerhamre's club team from Sweden, Carnegie. While mostly close, we win 15-12. I feel like I should be remembering whether it was an ugly game, but I will let others remember for me.
Meanwhile, all the excitement is happening in the other pools. Liquidisc is smashing their 28th seed, Skogshyddans has upset Condors, NY (WSL all-stars) are continuing their dominance from the prior year's semifinals appearance at Nationals, Jam has beaten their 10 seed to move into the quarterfinals.
During the entire week, playing with a Condoresque subbing philosophy because of numbers, we have been winning all our games. This has been a return to the days of early DoG, playing very junky D's, waiting for the other team to make a mistake, then playing flawless offense, BUT also big-play O. We are completing a very high percentage of our long throws, and putting it up early and often.
Thursday afternoon begins the elimination round with a quarterfinal matchup against Ring of Fire. Is this when we will finally wake up and realize that we aren't really that good, that we just happened to have an easy schedule or some other reason to get that far? Well, begorrah, we beat Ring 15-12 and moved on to the semifinals against the Condors, who have beaten NY handily. Clearly it is time for the gravy train to crash, because the Condors have brought most of their squad that lost to DoG by a combined 4 points in two games at Nationals the previous year and have they got a serious axe to grind. In a stunning victory (we were all a stunned at how easy it was), we beat them 15-10. Naysayers will point to Steve Dugan's broken hand/wrist as a factor, but whatever. Comparing lineups, and time playing together as a team, and it is no contest. They should have smoked our ass. This whole tournament was one of those unforgettable events, where everything came together in just the right way. I'm sure I speak for the rest of my teammates in saying that we will never forget this entire experience.
Oh yeah, and we beat the 28th seed, Liquidisc in the finals 20-18. This ==iwas a barnburner of a game. They have the man who never misses (and I'm not sure he did this game, and does anyone get the Steve Perry reference, or am I the only science fiction nerd), and Juha Jalovaara. There is a pretty large crowd for the finals, including the silver inflatable alien being punched around like a beach ball in the stands, and my wife has shown up to witness a shocking World Championship victory. This game is like all the others, with no expectations going in, and yet with the team playing the umpteenth consecutive game of it's life. When all is said and done, we have emerged as Club World Champions. Oh, life was sweet then. And, for those who remember post finals, all I have to say is, de de duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse de de duh tse duh tse ... (just picture heads bobbing to the beat).
And the thing that probably capped off the week was that on the Saturday after winning the finals, when we walked into the dining hall of our dorm, all the players there gave us a standing ovation. That basically capped off a dream week.
And the upshot of this victory is that the Boston young guys changed their tune, felt the Boston zeitgeist, and decided to join DoG after all. This involved revoking all their combined plans in such a way that their good friend Pepper from Yale has still never spoken to any of them since that moment. But most importantly is that they contributed to DoG winning the record 6th Naitonal Championship that fall against an overmatched Condors squad (again), with only 4 turnovers in a 17-12 finals victory. And stupid Parinella had to write on his nationals videotape all the way back in 1994, '1 of 6'. Stupid Ruthian curse.
Memorabilia:
* So, as part of the mutual flagellation during the week, the mildly combative team has decided to make this local bar, the Firkin, it's own. We proceed to dominate the one pool table and get regularly drunk there every night of the tournament. It is only after the tournament while my wife and I are travelling through Scotland that we find out that our intimate neighborhood bar is actually a chain. Fortunately, the one in St. Andrews was by far the best.
* Driving on the left. After about a day, it became natural to look right, left, right coming to an intersection. The worry that I would not readapt quickly upon the return to the US was premature.
* Kibitzing Jimmy P and Jordan playing golf on the Old Course. They were playing with cousin of (name not coming to mind right now), and some random Princeton dude, and let me tell you, I have never been so embarrassed to have gone to Princeton as watching this guy actually make it through a day. I think there are 5 of us following them around through the first 5 holes making bets and rochams on who is going to win each hole. Excellent fun.
* The St. Andrews putting green. Competition grew fast and furious between the various groups on this very challenging 18 hole putting green. Money passed many hands.
* Takahisa Honda and Jordan in the tiny shirt contest. When we first got to the rooms, the shirt meister broke out this toddler equivalent team jersey that Jordan modeled for the crowd.
* Pausing mid-game to watch the almost total solar eclipse. Of course, we were in the middle of a bye, so it was less of a burden.
* Jim and Jordan missing the Japan game to play a round at Carnoustie, aptly named Carnage at Carnoustie.
So, at this point, we have now won consecutive 5 national championships and the team is definitely starting to show its age. We held off the Condors twice at Nationals 98 (where did they come from?) to win in our closest final yet. When we left Minnesota in 98, we had just been iced by the young guys from the 2nd Boston team after the miserable performance at worlds (and an appropriately labelled Best Game Ever for the Northeast Regional Betty Bowl). The spring is now over, and we are starting the dance again trying to pick up some yute's to fill out the team and renew the team. Having represented the US in the 'Olympics' of ultimate 2 straight times, the team is far less excited about going to Scotland for the Club Worlds as just another team in the hoi polloi. However, there are still enough players that eat, sleep, and breathe Ultimate that not going is not an option. However, they only number 8. So we decide to pick up a bunch of the young guys again, and some other randoms, and head off to Scotland for Worlds. At this point, it is no longer a tryout for the young guys, we are just waiting on them to decide, but figuring that they will make the right move.
I'm flying out Friday evening to get to the tournament in historic St. Andrews by Saturday afternoon and I am one of the last people to leave Boston. Friday afternoon, I'm talking to Jeff "Dick" Brown, who has just gotten off the phone with one of his Tufts proteges. The word on the street is that the young guys have decided to blow off joining us yet again and that the new team is already planning their practices, roster, etc. I am, of course, stunned at the news, and wondering what the hell it is going to be like for the next week playing with a bunch of people that have iced us yet again. Do I bring it up, and how? So naturally, I focus on the most defenseless member of their bunch, Justin Safdie. During the opening ceremonies Saturday night, we are all in this large meeting room/gymnasium listening to someone speechify, music, etc., when I sidle up to Justin and ask him "So, what are you guys going to call yourselves". He IMMEDIATELY knows what I'm talking about, and gives that little embarrassed whine of his. Mission accomplished. The week is now shot, and we are going to be going through the motions. At the same time, the pressure is off, and we can just focus on having a good time, and we'll worry about the fall when we get back.
9. 1999 - Club World Championships - St. Andrews, England - DoG
www.wfdf.org/events/wucc1999/index2.html
The US has sent some reasonably full squads to this version of Club Worlds. Ring, Condors, NY, JAM, Houndz and others are here at what is effectively full strength for a tournament of this caliber, which makes our presence all the more amusing, as we are playing with 8 DoGs, 5 Dark Horse players, and 3 other pickups (Seth, Casey and Ben), who we are also considering for the fall. Not exactly a worlds shattering team. While we have played against each other quite a bit, except for the previous Worlds in Minnesota we really do not have a tremendous amount of on-field experience as teammates. But after the events of the first night, everybody knows the score, and we are going to have fun even if we suck eggs, godammit!
The tournament starts with an easy beginner pool, even for our skeleton squad. Easy victories on Sunday over Cynics and Flying Angels has us thinking maybe we will make it out of our pool. Monday victories over Ultimatum and Catch 22 have us thinking maybe the quarterfinals? Meanwhile, the abuse of the backstabbers by the current DoG players continues unabated. I'm loving these early games. I'm even able to get in for some defensive points. Finally, on Tuesday we have our first real game against our good friend Anders Jerhamre's club team from Sweden, Carnegie. While mostly close, we win 15-12. I feel like I should be remembering whether it was an ugly game, but I will let others remember for me.
Meanwhile, all the excitement is happening in the other pools. Liquidisc is smashing their 28th seed, Skogshyddans has upset Condors, NY (WSL all-stars) are continuing their dominance from the prior year's semifinals appearance at Nationals, Jam has beaten their 10 seed to move into the quarterfinals.
During the entire week, playing with a Condoresque subbing philosophy because of numbers, we have been winning all our games. This has been a return to the days of early DoG, playing very junky D's, waiting for the other team to make a mistake, then playing flawless offense, BUT also big-play O. We are completing a very high percentage of our long throws, and putting it up early and often.
Thursday afternoon begins the elimination round with a quarterfinal matchup against Ring of Fire. Is this when we will finally wake up and realize that we aren't really that good, that we just happened to have an easy schedule or some other reason to get that far? Well, begorrah, we beat Ring 15-12 and moved on to the semifinals against the Condors, who have beaten NY handily. Clearly it is time for the gravy train to crash, because the Condors have brought most of their squad that lost to DoG by a combined 4 points in two games at Nationals the previous year and have they got a serious axe to grind. In a stunning victory (we were all a stunned at how easy it was), we beat them 15-10. Naysayers will point to Steve Dugan's broken hand/wrist as a factor, but whatever. Comparing lineups, and time playing together as a team, and it is no contest. They should have smoked our ass. This whole tournament was one of those unforgettable events, where everything came together in just the right way. I'm sure I speak for the rest of my teammates in saying that we will never forget this entire experience.
Oh yeah, and we beat the 28th seed, Liquidisc in the finals 20-18. This ==iwas a barnburner of a game. They have the man who never misses (and I'm not sure he did this game, and does anyone get the Steve Perry reference, or am I the only science fiction nerd), and Juha Jalovaara. There is a pretty large crowd for the finals, including the silver inflatable alien being punched around like a beach ball in the stands, and my wife has shown up to witness a shocking World Championship victory. This game is like all the others, with no expectations going in, and yet with the team playing the umpteenth consecutive game of it's life. When all is said and done, we have emerged as Club World Champions. Oh, life was sweet then. And, for those who remember post finals, all I have to say is, de de duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse duh tse de de duh tse duh tse ... (just picture heads bobbing to the beat).
And the thing that probably capped off the week was that on the Saturday after winning the finals, when we walked into the dining hall of our dorm, all the players there gave us a standing ovation. That basically capped off a dream week.
And the upshot of this victory is that the Boston young guys changed their tune, felt the Boston zeitgeist, and decided to join DoG after all. This involved revoking all their combined plans in such a way that their good friend Pepper from Yale has still never spoken to any of them since that moment. But most importantly is that they contributed to DoG winning the record 6th Naitonal Championship that fall against an overmatched Condors squad (again), with only 4 turnovers in a 17-12 finals victory. And stupid Parinella had to write on his nationals videotape all the way back in 1994, '1 of 6'. Stupid Ruthian curse.
Memorabilia:
* So, as part of the mutual flagellation during the week, the mildly combative team has decided to make this local bar, the Firkin, it's own. We proceed to dominate the one pool table and get regularly drunk there every night of the tournament. It is only after the tournament while my wife and I are travelling through Scotland that we find out that our intimate neighborhood bar is actually a chain. Fortunately, the one in St. Andrews was by far the best.
* Driving on the left. After about a day, it became natural to look right, left, right coming to an intersection. The worry that I would not readapt quickly upon the return to the US was premature.
* Kibitzing Jimmy P and Jordan playing golf on the Old Course. They were playing with cousin of (name not coming to mind right now), and some random Princeton dude, and let me tell you, I have never been so embarrassed to have gone to Princeton as watching this guy actually make it through a day. I think there are 5 of us following them around through the first 5 holes making bets and rochams on who is going to win each hole. Excellent fun.
* The St. Andrews putting green. Competition grew fast and furious between the various groups on this very challenging 18 hole putting green. Money passed many hands.
* Takahisa Honda and Jordan in the tiny shirt contest. When we first got to the rooms, the shirt meister broke out this toddler equivalent team jersey that Jordan modeled for the crowd.
* Pausing mid-game to watch the almost total solar eclipse. Of course, we were in the middle of a bye, so it was less of a burden.
* Jim and Jordan missing the Japan game to play a round at Carnoustie, aptly named Carnage at Carnoustie.
posted by Alex de Frondeville at 3:34 AM
3 Comments:
Actually, I went to Worlds to golf, not because I ate, slept, and breathed ultimate.
And who can forget our post-game cheer: "Let's start drinking!"
It was JD's girlfriend Amy who golfed with us on the Old Course. She had a 2 handicap, and really didn't overwhelm you with long drives or a deft touch around the greens. She just made every shot solid and did not make mistakes, and that's really the key to winning golf or ultimate.
http://www.televisionheaven.co.uk/muppet3.jpg
local web denizens watching a co-ed final.
'this games off to a fast start'
'good, maybe it will end quicker'
Ahhh. Waldorf and Statler. Good humor never goes out of style.
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