Saturday, August 11, 2007
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Hingham
Alex did the play-by-play over at his blog, so I’ll skimp on some of the details.
Other than summer league, this was my first ultimate endeavor since the end of June at Boston Invite, where I left the field spewing blood. Some people were nice enough to ask me if I was ok now. Thanks. I didn’t play any differently, no lingering effects other than I have to part my hair (as much as I part it) on the other side so as to hide the scar.
The team rocked. I jokingly referred to us as the best team in the history of sports. While we do have two players who last missed the elimination round of Open Nationals in 1991, and that certainly helps, it’s not the answer, as our team generally did about as well regardless of who was in. (See my private blog for what I really think, of course.) I think the answer is that we didn’t have any black holes, at least when they play on our team. Every other team had several players who through either lack of skill or lack of good decision-making were turnover machines.
I definitely changed my defense a lot based on who had the disc. This weekend at least, I generally played honest when a truly good thrower had it and poached off to varying extents when someone else had it. This led to one amusing quip. An opponent underthrew a too-long pass and I intercepted it, and he said, “I didn’t see him,” figuring it was a poach block. What he didn’t realize was that it was my guy he threw to and I knew that he wouldn’t be able to throw it as far as would be necessary. But this also led to some missed assignments deep when the disc quickly transitioned from unskilled to skilled thrower, and I couldn’t make up the ground.
This was some great old-fashioned training for me, especially Sunday where we had maybe 7-8 guys and I played maybe 80% of the points. I thought I was going to throw up on one hell point in the finals after doing a few extra sprints on about the 8th turnover, but instead I just stopped running and watched from far away as my man caught the goal.
My junk throws, none of which were among my five worst choices of the weekend:
There was something funny about each throw preceding mine. Prior to the scoober, Simon had zipped me a short forehand that I was barely able to stab. That was definitely too hard for how short it was, so I guess I overcompensated on the next one. So, somehow an interesting event can trigger the creative part of my brain. In no case did I go into the point thinking that I was going to do something different; it just happened.
The party was sparsely-attended and ran only from about 9-11:45, while the parties I remember ran until 2 in the morning and were jam-packed. Games on Sunday back then didn’t start until noon, either. At least that’s what I remember.
It was a very long weekend. My wife and son went out of town on Thursday morning to visit her family, and I used the most of the opportunity to do some guy things. 36 holes of golf on Friday in the 90+ degree heat, ultimate all day, more golf on Saturday afternoon after downing a few beers on the sideline (not really a smart idea, really, either one), party, sleeping on a floor, more ultimate on Sunday, and a relaxed post-game celebration. Even now, I am still recovering a bit.
Other than summer league, this was my first ultimate endeavor since the end of June at Boston Invite, where I left the field spewing blood. Some people were nice enough to ask me if I was ok now. Thanks. I didn’t play any differently, no lingering effects other than I have to part my hair (as much as I part it) on the other side so as to hide the scar.
The team rocked. I jokingly referred to us as the best team in the history of sports. While we do have two players who last missed the elimination round of Open Nationals in 1991, and that certainly helps, it’s not the answer, as our team generally did about as well regardless of who was in. (See my private blog for what I really think, of course.) I think the answer is that we didn’t have any black holes, at least when they play on our team. Every other team had several players who through either lack of skill or lack of good decision-making were turnover machines.
I definitely changed my defense a lot based on who had the disc. This weekend at least, I generally played honest when a truly good thrower had it and poached off to varying extents when someone else had it. This led to one amusing quip. An opponent underthrew a too-long pass and I intercepted it, and he said, “I didn’t see him,” figuring it was a poach block. What he didn’t realize was that it was my guy he threw to and I knew that he wouldn’t be able to throw it as far as would be necessary. But this also led to some missed assignments deep when the disc quickly transitioned from unskilled to skilled thrower, and I couldn’t make up the ground.
This was some great old-fashioned training for me, especially Sunday where we had maybe 7-8 guys and I played maybe 80% of the points. I thought I was going to throw up on one hell point in the finals after doing a few extra sprints on about the 8th turnover, but instead I just stopped running and watched from far away as my man caught the goal.
My junk throws, none of which were among my five worst choices of the weekend:
- Lefty backhand. Tall lefty Rick Kenyon threw me a high backhand and cut to the end zone a few yards away, and I had a narrow time window to throw the disc. The only throw available was a lefty backhand (or maybe a righty air bounce push pass), so I threw it. I had caught the disc with my left hand on top, standing and facing the thrower. It was an odd little throw, high count, I had just been cutting to try to give him something but couldn’t find the right spot and so just stopped about 5 yards away from him, a yard upfield. At 8, he threw it to me as my defender stood, then he cut as my defender came in to mark me. I just instinctively chose this pass, and stand by my choice. This may have been my first lefty throw in ultimate, although I have thrown 10-50 dumps that way in goaltimate. (I might have thrown some back in 1995 at the tournament after dislocating my right index finger. I knew that I practiced them but I think I went back to righty for the tournament (Tuneup). I’ve also thrown a couple two-handed passes.)
- Lefty backhand. Almost identical situation, although not for the goal. I had announced that I was retiring my lefty throws, since I was a perfect 1 for 1 with 1 goal thrown (not “assist”) and had nothing left to prove. But then it came up again, and the parallelism required me to throw it. Other than that, though, I didn’t need to throw this one, and should have probably just passed it up. At the point I decided to throw it, the previous throw probably increased our chances of scoring from 95% to 99%, but this one probably just changed it from 92% to 93%.
- Inside out banking scoober from the forehand side of my body. After the game, I led a discussion as to what my decision-making process was on that one (prompting replies of, “Oh, great, let’s talk about YOU again” and “There was a decision-making process?”). I eventually decided that it reminded me of a goaltimate situation where I caught a leading pass in front of the goal and got a give and go cut in front of me and I had to lead him into the goal (under the arch). This was also similar to my beach throw at Fools 2006, where I caught the disc just outside the goal line and stood there with a backhand grip on the forehand side, looking for a 3 yard little flip pass for the goal but got a 10-15 yard cut instead. Although the catch was contested lightly, I felt that this choice significantly decreased our chances of not scoring compared to looking it off and turning for something else. Again, though I had never thrown it before and might never throw it again, I stand by this choice.
There was something funny about each throw preceding mine. Prior to the scoober, Simon had zipped me a short forehand that I was barely able to stab. That was definitely too hard for how short it was, so I guess I overcompensated on the next one. So, somehow an interesting event can trigger the creative part of my brain. In no case did I go into the point thinking that I was going to do something different; it just happened.
The party was sparsely-attended and ran only from about 9-11:45, while the parties I remember ran until 2 in the morning and were jam-packed. Games on Sunday back then didn’t start until noon, either. At least that’s what I remember.
It was a very long weekend. My wife and son went out of town on Thursday morning to visit her family, and I used the most of the opportunity to do some guy things. 36 holes of golf on Friday in the 90+ degree heat, ultimate all day, more golf on Saturday afternoon after downing a few beers on the sideline (not really a smart idea, really, either one), party, sleeping on a floor, more ultimate on Sunday, and a relaxed post-game celebration. Even now, I am still recovering a bit.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Boston Invite
Well, didn't add another tournament victory to the list, but had fun, nonetheless, plus I'm sporting 7 stitches in my forehead thanks to a collision.
Here are the results.
After a little to-do about format, we were seeded 10th in the lower half of the Elite division, which says something about us (we rock!) and the tournament (less rocking). This meant we had to finish in the top two of our pool in order to have a shot at the A quarters where we were hoping to take a crack at Boston Ultimate (or, as I referred to them this weekend, our farm club, although I think they are all a few years of seasoning away from being ready to play with us).
As compared to our previous Open tournament where we had 11 on Sat and 9 on Sun, this time we had 18 on the roster for Saturday and 14 for Sunday. Except that I forgot that one of them wasn't going to show up for either day (and I had just golfed with him a few days prior), one cancelled for Sunday, and two just didn't show up on Saturday, putting a crimp into my plans to make money on entry fees. And the usual assortment was late, so once again at start time on Saturday we had about 7 or 8. Our first game was against Chuck Wagon, whom we had beaten at WMO. Rough game for me, throwing away a goal on the first point on a dumb throw that had been working for me, got partially point blocked, dropped two less-than-perfect dumps, and almost certainly did something else bad. I had made a comment on George's blog about how anything more than 10 warmup throws was inefficient, so I felt compelled not to do any warmup throws at all. I learned my lesson and threw a handful of throws before our first game Sunday while waiting for my teammates on the line for the first point. Nonetheless, my mastery as a motivator must have been worth a few points as we won 15-12. By now we were up to our full squad for the day (but still missing a bunch of guys who were great players in the '90s).
Our next game was against Phoenix, whom we had played as DoG at this tournament not two years ago in a tight game. We had a tight first half, but then pulled away for a 15-8 win. This, we thought, guaranteed our spot in the pre-quarters (we were mistaken, as HOV was losing to Chuck Wagon, meaning that we were in as long as we lost by no more than 5). However, our hopes for a quarters matchup against Boston Ultimate took a hit as they lost to PoNY. There was still a chance if we lost our last game and BU beat Pike (and of course we won our pre-quarters), but it looked a lot less likely.
Our final pool play game was old-fashioned DoG. We knew we were in and we just cruised. HOV kept getting mad at themselves while we looked past our mistakes since they didn't matter, and found ourselves up and expanding the lead. (I will admit to being confused by other teams discussing point differential but it didn't dawn on me.) I sat out all but a few points in this game in order to have some legs left for the pre-quarters. Final score 15-10 and first place, giving us a matchup against Zebra Muscles.
ZM played a lot better than a team that got shellacked 15-6, 15-4, and 15-2 already (or maybe they were fresh). They didn't make the drops or simple mistakes that some of these other teams had done. Our best chance at winning this game was early, as we went up 4-2 while still squandering a few opportunities. They got a run to take half 8-6 and expanded it to 12-9. At 13-10, we got a turn near their goal line but failed to put in the upwinder, they scored the downwinder and then closed us out 15-11. We tried hard but we weren't that disappointed since it meant we did not have to play at 8:30 in a game we knew we would lose (especially so given that we probably would have had 4 players there on time).
So, we had a 10:30 game against the winner of Colt .45, who had gone winless on Saturday in lower Elite, and the Gunslingers, who had won all their games in the non-Elite section. We still struggled to get a full team there on time. The Gunslingers are a young Boston team, possibly none of whom were born when I started playing (1983). I had a good game, making several blocks (at least three, maybe more) and some good offensive plays while playing every point. We took half 8-6 but couldn't put them away, and found ourselves pulling upwind at double game point. They had a simple throwaway (either a miscommunication or a disc that stuck to the thrower's hand) in their own end. After a disputed line call on a second chance catch, we forced up a stall 9.9 pass into the end zone that found its way into our of our hands for the game-winner.
I have to admit, it's been awhile since I felt so involved with the team's successes, even if it was the B pool quarters. Even in those recent years with DoG where I was still playing almost every O point, I still felt a little bit outside the team. I expressed it once that it almost felt like there were two alternating games going, one when we received and another when we pulled, and they somehow combined the scores of those two games to determine a winner. It really is a different perspective that I had mostly forgotten, to go into a tournament with your normal team thinking that making the quarters would be a good showing, but I guess that's the reality for an awful lot of players out there.
We moved fields, again (we did not play two consecutive rounds on the same field all weekend, George), for our B pool semi against New Noise, who had barely lost to Pike in the pre-quarters the day before (but had also barely made the pre-quarters, winning a one-pointer in their last game). They were similar to Gunslingers but a couple years older and possibly having some ties to Amherst instead of/in addition to Boston. I hadn't done anything other than walk or sit from the end of the previous game until the first point had started and I found myself setting up for a cut to a long backhand from Alex off the walkup. But then I realized that even though the cut was open, there was no way that I was actually going to run that much right then, so I yelled something about how I wasn't going to cut there and instead cut back to the disc. On the next upwind point, they again pulled it out and this time I told one of the other players to get in the same place I had been and to cut deep for Alex's backhand. He tried, but his defender was backing him so much that it was impossible. After a few seconds more, I found myself at the back of the stack so I just cut deep. I saw the throw hooking so I angled toward the cone, only to find that it hadn't hooked nearly as much as I thought. Fortunately for me, the defender (mis)played the disc, not me, and it went over his head to me for the goal.
They took half, but we broke twice to start the second half. I believe that we kept trading after that. At 12-12, again going upwind, they turned it about 20 yards outside the endzone. Alex walked it up, and I cut for his hammer after making sure that the stack got away from that space. He had overthrown me in almost the identical situation the previous game, so maybe he overcompensated by hanging this one a bit. It hung long enough for a poacher to come over and clobber me in the head sometime after the disc had been tipped away. I yelled "Jesus Christ" at his carelessness and started to play defense only to see blood spurting from my head. I rotated my body to try to avoid getting blood on my shirt and lay down. I popped up again to yell at the sideline, "I'm bleeding here! Pretty bad. Someone get me something. Call for help." Someone got a towel, and the trainer came fairly quickly, so I realized I wasn't going to bleed to death. But I still needed immediate treatment and got taken away in a cart so he could clean me up a little. He drove me back to frisbee central, cleaned the wound and put some bandaids on, and told me I really needed to get stitches in the next hour or so to reduce the risk of an ugly scar. So I got them to call for a cart so I could talk to my wife. I waited, we drove over, I tried interrupting their game by calling "Injury time out" (strictly speaking, it would have been) after yet another turnover (I said, "I hope this isn't a hell point," and got the reply "It already is"), but yet they continued. After another turnover, I caught my wife's attention and yelled, "My head is cut, I'm ok, I'm going to Emerson Hospital to get it stitched", at which point the girl she was defending cut. It was incomplete, and by now several people on the field knew they might want to stop play, so they motioned to the thrower to call timeout (someone on the side even said, "yeah, we haven't used any yet"), so of course the thrower decided to keep playing. This time, however, the pass was caught for a goal and I got to repeat the information, adding that my head didn't hurt and it definitely wasn't a concussion and of course I was fine to drive. So, back into the cart to be driven across the grounds to my field, expecting the game to be over but finding that it was only 13-13. As I later found out, we traded yet again, but then turned it over twice on double-game point to lose 15-14. Once again, it was a bittersweet defeat, as the team was already pretty spent and another game might have started to see my teammates dropping like the elderly during a heat wave.
So, off to the hospital for the first time ever in 25 years of ultimate (one other time at practice I got hurt, stopped playing, and went to the doctor the next day). I gave my name at the desk, sat in the waiting room for a bit, talked to someone at the desk finally, got shunted off to another room, waited, talked to another person, and then was told to wait some more. At some point I debated acting delirious in order to be seen more quickly. I was disappointed in the wait because I had chosen the hospital in the more affluent area, figuring there would be fewer Sunday afternoon trauma cases to delay me, but it still took me about 2:30 before I finally got out of there. Anyway, at this point I decided to go clean myself up a little and finally looked in the mirror to see dried blood all over my face and even in my ear. Sweet. My wife and the boy finally show up as I'm being shown to my room (where I waited another 30 minutes). Finally, more cleaning, some anesthetic, and I get stitched up and released.
Overall, we ended up where we were seeded, just about. I think we would have had a better chance in the games we lost had they been earlier in the day, but that's part of the nature of ultimate tournaments. I don't really know what to make of our team's chances this year. I would really like them if only everyone were 38 again.
Anyway, I had a good time, and am surprisingly not sore right now. I need a couple more tournaments like this between now and September to go along with the other things I'm doing and I'll be raring to go.
Here are the results.
After a little to-do about format, we were seeded 10th in the lower half of the Elite division, which says something about us (we rock!) and the tournament (less rocking). This meant we had to finish in the top two of our pool in order to have a shot at the A quarters where we were hoping to take a crack at Boston Ultimate (or, as I referred to them this weekend, our farm club, although I think they are all a few years of seasoning away from being ready to play with us).
As compared to our previous Open tournament where we had 11 on Sat and 9 on Sun, this time we had 18 on the roster for Saturday and 14 for Sunday. Except that I forgot that one of them wasn't going to show up for either day (and I had just golfed with him a few days prior), one cancelled for Sunday, and two just didn't show up on Saturday, putting a crimp into my plans to make money on entry fees. And the usual assortment was late, so once again at start time on Saturday we had about 7 or 8. Our first game was against Chuck Wagon, whom we had beaten at WMO. Rough game for me, throwing away a goal on the first point on a dumb throw that had been working for me, got partially point blocked, dropped two less-than-perfect dumps, and almost certainly did something else bad. I had made a comment on George's blog about how anything more than 10 warmup throws was inefficient, so I felt compelled not to do any warmup throws at all. I learned my lesson and threw a handful of throws before our first game Sunday while waiting for my teammates on the line for the first point. Nonetheless, my mastery as a motivator must have been worth a few points as we won 15-12. By now we were up to our full squad for the day (but still missing a bunch of guys who were great players in the '90s).
Our next game was against Phoenix, whom we had played as DoG at this tournament not two years ago in a tight game. We had a tight first half, but then pulled away for a 15-8 win. This, we thought, guaranteed our spot in the pre-quarters (we were mistaken, as HOV was losing to Chuck Wagon, meaning that we were in as long as we lost by no more than 5). However, our hopes for a quarters matchup against Boston Ultimate took a hit as they lost to PoNY. There was still a chance if we lost our last game and BU beat Pike (and of course we won our pre-quarters), but it looked a lot less likely.
Our final pool play game was old-fashioned DoG. We knew we were in and we just cruised. HOV kept getting mad at themselves while we looked past our mistakes since they didn't matter, and found ourselves up and expanding the lead. (I will admit to being confused by other teams discussing point differential but it didn't dawn on me.) I sat out all but a few points in this game in order to have some legs left for the pre-quarters. Final score 15-10 and first place, giving us a matchup against Zebra Muscles.
ZM played a lot better than a team that got shellacked 15-6, 15-4, and 15-2 already (or maybe they were fresh). They didn't make the drops or simple mistakes that some of these other teams had done. Our best chance at winning this game was early, as we went up 4-2 while still squandering a few opportunities. They got a run to take half 8-6 and expanded it to 12-9. At 13-10, we got a turn near their goal line but failed to put in the upwinder, they scored the downwinder and then closed us out 15-11. We tried hard but we weren't that disappointed since it meant we did not have to play at 8:30 in a game we knew we would lose (especially so given that we probably would have had 4 players there on time).
So, we had a 10:30 game against the winner of Colt .45, who had gone winless on Saturday in lower Elite, and the Gunslingers, who had won all their games in the non-Elite section. We still struggled to get a full team there on time. The Gunslingers are a young Boston team, possibly none of whom were born when I started playing (1983). I had a good game, making several blocks (at least three, maybe more) and some good offensive plays while playing every point. We took half 8-6 but couldn't put them away, and found ourselves pulling upwind at double game point. They had a simple throwaway (either a miscommunication or a disc that stuck to the thrower's hand) in their own end. After a disputed line call on a second chance catch, we forced up a stall 9.9 pass into the end zone that found its way into our of our hands for the game-winner.
I have to admit, it's been awhile since I felt so involved with the team's successes, even if it was the B pool quarters. Even in those recent years with DoG where I was still playing almost every O point, I still felt a little bit outside the team. I expressed it once that it almost felt like there were two alternating games going, one when we received and another when we pulled, and they somehow combined the scores of those two games to determine a winner. It really is a different perspective that I had mostly forgotten, to go into a tournament with your normal team thinking that making the quarters would be a good showing, but I guess that's the reality for an awful lot of players out there.
We moved fields, again (we did not play two consecutive rounds on the same field all weekend, George), for our B pool semi against New Noise, who had barely lost to Pike in the pre-quarters the day before (but had also barely made the pre-quarters, winning a one-pointer in their last game). They were similar to Gunslingers but a couple years older and possibly having some ties to Amherst instead of/in addition to Boston. I hadn't done anything other than walk or sit from the end of the previous game until the first point had started and I found myself setting up for a cut to a long backhand from Alex off the walkup. But then I realized that even though the cut was open, there was no way that I was actually going to run that much right then, so I yelled something about how I wasn't going to cut there and instead cut back to the disc. On the next upwind point, they again pulled it out and this time I told one of the other players to get in the same place I had been and to cut deep for Alex's backhand. He tried, but his defender was backing him so much that it was impossible. After a few seconds more, I found myself at the back of the stack so I just cut deep. I saw the throw hooking so I angled toward the cone, only to find that it hadn't hooked nearly as much as I thought. Fortunately for me, the defender (mis)played the disc, not me, and it went over his head to me for the goal.
They took half, but we broke twice to start the second half. I believe that we kept trading after that. At 12-12, again going upwind, they turned it about 20 yards outside the endzone. Alex walked it up, and I cut for his hammer after making sure that the stack got away from that space. He had overthrown me in almost the identical situation the previous game, so maybe he overcompensated by hanging this one a bit. It hung long enough for a poacher to come over and clobber me in the head sometime after the disc had been tipped away. I yelled "Jesus Christ" at his carelessness and started to play defense only to see blood spurting from my head. I rotated my body to try to avoid getting blood on my shirt and lay down. I popped up again to yell at the sideline, "I'm bleeding here! Pretty bad. Someone get me something. Call for help." Someone got a towel, and the trainer came fairly quickly, so I realized I wasn't going to bleed to death. But I still needed immediate treatment and got taken away in a cart so he could clean me up a little. He drove me back to frisbee central, cleaned the wound and put some bandaids on, and told me I really needed to get stitches in the next hour or so to reduce the risk of an ugly scar. So I got them to call for a cart so I could talk to my wife. I waited, we drove over, I tried interrupting their game by calling "Injury time out" (strictly speaking, it would have been) after yet another turnover (I said, "I hope this isn't a hell point," and got the reply "It already is"), but yet they continued. After another turnover, I caught my wife's attention and yelled, "My head is cut, I'm ok, I'm going to Emerson Hospital to get it stitched", at which point the girl she was defending cut. It was incomplete, and by now several people on the field knew they might want to stop play, so they motioned to the thrower to call timeout (someone on the side even said, "yeah, we haven't used any yet"), so of course the thrower decided to keep playing. This time, however, the pass was caught for a goal and I got to repeat the information, adding that my head didn't hurt and it definitely wasn't a concussion and of course I was fine to drive. So, back into the cart to be driven across the grounds to my field, expecting the game to be over but finding that it was only 13-13. As I later found out, we traded yet again, but then turned it over twice on double-game point to lose 15-14. Once again, it was a bittersweet defeat, as the team was already pretty spent and another game might have started to see my teammates dropping like the elderly during a heat wave.
So, off to the hospital for the first time ever in 25 years of ultimate (one other time at practice I got hurt, stopped playing, and went to the doctor the next day). I gave my name at the desk, sat in the waiting room for a bit, talked to someone at the desk finally, got shunted off to another room, waited, talked to another person, and then was told to wait some more. At some point I debated acting delirious in order to be seen more quickly. I was disappointed in the wait because I had chosen the hospital in the more affluent area, figuring there would be fewer Sunday afternoon trauma cases to delay me, but it still took me about 2:30 before I finally got out of there. Anyway, at this point I decided to go clean myself up a little and finally looked in the mirror to see dried blood all over my face and even in my ear. Sweet. My wife and the boy finally show up as I'm being shown to my room (where I waited another 30 minutes). Finally, more cleaning, some anesthetic, and I get stitched up and released.
Overall, we ended up where we were seeded, just about. I think we would have had a better chance in the games we lost had they been earlier in the day, but that's part of the nature of ultimate tournaments. I don't really know what to make of our team's chances this year. I would really like them if only everyone were 38 again.
Anyway, I had a good time, and am surprisingly not sore right now. I need a couple more tournaments like this between now and September to go along with the other things I'm doing and I'll be raring to go.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Field sense
Here is a cool article on teaching field sense. Here's one really good quote:
Farrow has found that players who make poor decisions tend to glance at targets, rather than pausing on them. They're also more drawn to motion. "In a lot of team sports, you're attracted to the area of greatest movement," Farrow says. "But just be-cause there's a person running fast and waving his arms doesn't mean he's the best person to kick to."
And here is another interesting link, though interesting in a different sense.
Farrow has found that players who make poor decisions tend to glance at targets, rather than pausing on them. They're also more drawn to motion. "In a lot of team sports, you're attracted to the area of greatest movement," Farrow says. "But just be-cause there's a person running fast and waving his arms doesn't mean he's the best person to kick to."
And here is another interesting link, though interesting in a different sense.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Leverage
In baseball, the term leverage is used to quantify the importance of the next event in determining the outcome of that game. Events in close games have higher leverage than those in blowouts, and during a close game, events near the end of the game have higher leverage than those earlier in the game, since there is less time to recover. (You can also factor in how much a particular outcome will change the probability of winning, instead of just considering the state prior to the at-bat; google "Win Probability Added" for more detail.) One application of this is that teams should use their best relievers during the higher leverage moments where possible. Now, there is some debate as to what extent clutch hitting exists (i.e., the ability to perform better during high leverage situations), but
There are two applications to ultimate that I can think of (well, three if you count using fire in rocham). One is that I strongly prefer playing high leverage points, if such points are available that day. I think I realize that I'm not going to be able to play every point at any high level of output, so I'd rather those points be important to the outcome of the game. Thus, points when we're winning 5-2, or whole games where the outcome isn't in doubt, I don't have much desire to participate in. (For summer league or pickup where I don't much care about the outcome, even when it's in doubt, this doesn't factor in except maybe at double game point if I'm in or if there is someone on the other team I want to have lose.)
The other is in foul calls and contests. There are four calls I've been involved in these past two tournaments that come to mind. I held my ground on the two highest leverage calls and gave up on the other two (even though on one of those I was at least 100% in the right; in fairness, though, not only was this one not at an important part in the game, but it also didn't make a lot of difference in the expectation that we would score the point). I don't engage in gamesmanship in stuff like this, so it wasn't a matter of giving up a call now expecting to get one or more back later. Rather, I don't want to be a guy who is involved in a lot of calls or a guy who makes bad calls. I guess I'm willing to risk the latter a little bit in some circumstances because I also don't want to be a guy who helps his team lose by not making a (good) call.
I don't doubt that in each case, I was probably correct (and not just loophole/ticky tack correct, but spirit of the rule correct), although I'm not sure what an Observer would have ruled on them (or even what I as an Observer would have ruled).
Anyway, what really triggered this trip down angst lane was seeing a comment on the UPA Strategic Planning blog (and remembering similar comments elsewhere) about how unspirited it is to pull out calls when the game is on the line. The paradox is that the commenter would think it more unspirited to make those earlier calls, too, even though that would make the amount of rule-breaking required to call a foul more consistent. (I also tend to factor in how respectfully the other player plays and how he makes the call; given a certain level of how sure I am about a call, I find myself more likely to contest a call if the other player is belligerent about it.)
I can think of examples from other sports that back up this point of view. In pro football, the coach will throw the challenge flag only if either he's absolutely certain or if the difference in the outcome is huge (score/no score or possession). Years ago in pro hockey, many players had sticks with illegal curvature on the blade, but they were only challenged on it in the last minutes of tight games. And in the George Brett pine tar incident, the Yankees knew about it for a long time but waited until Brett had hit a 3 run homer to ask for a measurement.
For the record, the calls (the first two were detailed in the WMO post):
1. 12-11 us, game to 13, I'm chasing a hammer on defense, as I'm about to jump, the receiver shifts his position and jumps back toward me. The disc goes over his head, but my momentum carries me into him. I ask him twice if he's sure he doesn't want to take the call back, then don't contest.
2. 12-12, game to 13 (next point), 30 yard pass in the end zone for the game winner, I jump up and make the block, then have some (incidental?) contact on the receiver's body (nothing on the arm). I am more certain that an Observer would rule in my favor than I am that I did not commit a foul. I send it back without trying to convince the receiver to retract his call.
3. 0-1, we receive the pull, quick swing, defense is still not down yet, I cut (pretty much laterally) before I get to where the D is and catch the second pass (this is generally what I do as the Man (3rd person in the play, first downfield cutter) on a low pull, take the free yards rather than actually having to cut and possibly gain more). Pick is called. I pace off 6 steps to my man who called the pick and explain the 3m rule. I add that I was never within 5 yards of the spot where he was standing. Argument ensues. Dumbfounded and angry, I sent the disc back.
4. 13-12 us, game to 15, they throw a long pass. I am looking back at the disc as I run downfield. I feel there is an excellent chance (more than 50/50) that I will cause this pass to be incomplete. About 30 yards from where the disc ends up, while the disc is still high in the air and upfield (toward the thrower) from us, I run into the receiver, who has stopped so as to have me run into him. There is no possible way that he has simply misread the disc. I raise my arm immediately and stop running. He catches it in the end zone. I state "didn't play the disc! Sending it back!" I send it back. He doesn't argue much, but whether that is because he knows I'm right or if he just thinks it won't make a difference, I don't know. Of course I am aware that an offensive foul in this circumstance is a turnover, but I wouldn't want a turnover in that circumstance. I made a similar call in the game to go in 1986 Regionals.
There are two applications to ultimate that I can think of (well, three if you count using fire in rocham). One is that I strongly prefer playing high leverage points, if such points are available that day. I think I realize that I'm not going to be able to play every point at any high level of output, so I'd rather those points be important to the outcome of the game. Thus, points when we're winning 5-2, or whole games where the outcome isn't in doubt, I don't have much desire to participate in. (For summer league or pickup where I don't much care about the outcome, even when it's in doubt, this doesn't factor in except maybe at double game point if I'm in or if there is someone on the other team I want to have lose.)
The other is in foul calls and contests. There are four calls I've been involved in these past two tournaments that come to mind. I held my ground on the two highest leverage calls and gave up on the other two (even though on one of those I was at least 100% in the right; in fairness, though, not only was this one not at an important part in the game, but it also didn't make a lot of difference in the expectation that we would score the point). I don't engage in gamesmanship in stuff like this, so it wasn't a matter of giving up a call now expecting to get one or more back later. Rather, I don't want to be a guy who is involved in a lot of calls or a guy who makes bad calls. I guess I'm willing to risk the latter a little bit in some circumstances because I also don't want to be a guy who helps his team lose by not making a (good) call.
I don't doubt that in each case, I was probably correct (and not just loophole/ticky tack correct, but spirit of the rule correct), although I'm not sure what an Observer would have ruled on them (or even what I as an Observer would have ruled).
Anyway, what really triggered this trip down angst lane was seeing a comment on the UPA Strategic Planning blog (and remembering similar comments elsewhere) about how unspirited it is to pull out calls when the game is on the line. The paradox is that the commenter would think it more unspirited to make those earlier calls, too, even though that would make the amount of rule-breaking required to call a foul more consistent. (I also tend to factor in how respectfully the other player plays and how he makes the call; given a certain level of how sure I am about a call, I find myself more likely to contest a call if the other player is belligerent about it.)
I can think of examples from other sports that back up this point of view. In pro football, the coach will throw the challenge flag only if either he's absolutely certain or if the difference in the outcome is huge (score/no score or possession). Years ago in pro hockey, many players had sticks with illegal curvature on the blade, but they were only challenged on it in the last minutes of tight games. And in the George Brett pine tar incident, the Yankees knew about it for a long time but waited until Brett had hit a 3 run homer to ask for a measurement.
For the record, the calls (the first two were detailed in the WMO post):
1. 12-11 us, game to 13, I'm chasing a hammer on defense, as I'm about to jump, the receiver shifts his position and jumps back toward me. The disc goes over his head, but my momentum carries me into him. I ask him twice if he's sure he doesn't want to take the call back, then don't contest.
2. 12-12, game to 13 (next point), 30 yard pass in the end zone for the game winner, I jump up and make the block, then have some (incidental?) contact on the receiver's body (nothing on the arm). I am more certain that an Observer would rule in my favor than I am that I did not commit a foul. I send it back without trying to convince the receiver to retract his call.
3. 0-1, we receive the pull, quick swing, defense is still not down yet, I cut (pretty much laterally) before I get to where the D is and catch the second pass (this is generally what I do as the Man (3rd person in the play, first downfield cutter) on a low pull, take the free yards rather than actually having to cut and possibly gain more). Pick is called. I pace off 6 steps to my man who called the pick and explain the 3m rule. I add that I was never within 5 yards of the spot where he was standing. Argument ensues. Dumbfounded and angry, I sent the disc back.
4. 13-12 us, game to 15, they throw a long pass. I am looking back at the disc as I run downfield. I feel there is an excellent chance (more than 50/50) that I will cause this pass to be incomplete. About 30 yards from where the disc ends up, while the disc is still high in the air and upfield (toward the thrower) from us, I run into the receiver, who has stopped so as to have me run into him. There is no possible way that he has simply misread the disc. I raise my arm immediately and stop running. He catches it in the end zone. I state "didn't play the disc! Sending it back!" I send it back. He doesn't argue much, but whether that is because he knows I'm right or if he just thinks it won't make a difference, I don't know. Of course I am aware that an offensive foul in this circumstance is a turnover, but I wouldn't want a turnover in that circumstance. I made a similar call in the game to go in 1986 Regionals.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Purposeful walking
At the White Mountain Open, I was given a backhanded compliment along the lines of "you're old and slow(er) but you still get way open. How?" After kicking him in the groin, I explained to him that it was all about positioning and knowing when to just run.
Good defensive positioning is a dynamic process. What might be good position at one point is suddenly way out of position a few seconds later as the disc is swung or the players move a few yards. The defender basically decides what cut is not a threat to the team and so doesn't have to respect that cut. Examples: player 50 yards away, a deep pass is not a threat, defender plays in front. Cutter at the back of the endzone, only cut is back to the disc, defender plays in front. Marker takes away dump pass, handler defender doesn't overcommit on a cut to the dump. The defender will follow if the cutter goes to those places, but the defender won't try to beat the cutter there.
So, what you do on offense is to try to change the position so that the defender either continues in their relative positioning (thus opening up what was previously not a threatening cut) or alters their positioning (thus opening up the cut they were trying to prevent at first). For instance, you are handling, standing about 10 yards directly in front of the thrower, being forced one direction, say, forehand. The inside-out is a very tough throw here, and the around break will take long enough to deliver that the continuation isn't that much of a threat, so a good defender will position himself to allow you to cut inside-out. What you do, then, is to take several steps to the open side. If the defender keeps the same relative position, the inside-out cut is now wide open and is an easy throw straight up the field, and a threat to deliver a continuation pass. If the defender adjusts to be more in front of you instead of to the side, you may be able to cut back to the disc for a swing or laterally for a leading "away" pass.
Downfield, you are more likely to work in/out positioning rather than side-to-side. Say the disc is being walked in, and you are planning on cutting first. Put yourself somewhere near the middle or middle-back of the stack. Prior to check in, you reposition yourself further back in the stack, slightly on the open side. By starting out in the middle, the defender will usually adopt a position that at a minimum respects the deep cut (and sometimes even takes it away and concedes the in-cut). As you get deeper, they will usually maintain the same relative position to you, but suddenly the deep cut is not an option, and the in-cut is that much more open. A smart defender will adjust at this point, but amazingly, there aren't that many smart defenders out there [insert general disparaging comment about the intelligence of defensive players versus offensive players]. In the last couple steps before you actually cut, you can also drift more out into the open, making it more of a straight shot clear of poachers. Then simply plant and run hard to the disc. You may also throw in a step away or right at the defender before cutting in, but it's just one step, and you are not waiting for a reaction from the defender before going.
(This is what I have previously called a "quick fake", where you do a fake and continue on to your real cut or throw without waiting for a response. A quick fake is a diversion. A "slow fake" involves making a motion and then reacting to the defender's response. A bunch of back-and-forth jukes from a handler is a slow fake (even if those jukes are quick), because the handler is waiting for a sign that a defender has overcommitted or not reacted before deciding where to go. Sometimes a quick fake becomes a slow fake. A thrower might lift the disc suddenly to set up a low breakmark forehand (the quick fake), but if the defender anticipates correctly and shuts off that forehand, the thrower pivots to the backhand break (the slow fake). A cutter is on the open side and has both short and long open. Do a quick fake out to set up the in cut, go hard in for two or three steps and then read the defender's reaction. If the defender has anticipated the in-cut and has maybe even overcommitted to that, you immediately stop and cut deep as hard as you can.)
Sometimes, through no effort on your part, an "opportunity cut" will present itself. Maybe you're in the stack a little on the open side, your defender is fronting you and not watching the disc at all. At that moment, you're not a deep threat because the disc is not in a position to be hucked. However, you see a swing pass go off to the open side and the receiver is someone who can huck it. Suddenly, you're in great position to cut deep, provided that your defender keeps his focus on you. Allow him to do that by pretending to prepare for your own in-cut. Then, you make a hard step in and immediately reverse and cut deep. The defender will be backing up and even if he is faster than you, you will have enough of a head start that it shouldn't matter.
So, the basic idea is that you need to identify an area that you would like to cut to, then purposefully walk (or shuffle, or run if you must, I suppose) in the opposite direction, giving the defender the opportunity to make a mistake in positioning.
Good defensive positioning is a dynamic process. What might be good position at one point is suddenly way out of position a few seconds later as the disc is swung or the players move a few yards. The defender basically decides what cut is not a threat to the team and so doesn't have to respect that cut. Examples: player 50 yards away, a deep pass is not a threat, defender plays in front. Cutter at the back of the endzone, only cut is back to the disc, defender plays in front. Marker takes away dump pass, handler defender doesn't overcommit on a cut to the dump. The defender will follow if the cutter goes to those places, but the defender won't try to beat the cutter there.
So, what you do on offense is to try to change the position so that the defender either continues in their relative positioning (thus opening up what was previously not a threatening cut) or alters their positioning (thus opening up the cut they were trying to prevent at first). For instance, you are handling, standing about 10 yards directly in front of the thrower, being forced one direction, say, forehand. The inside-out is a very tough throw here, and the around break will take long enough to deliver that the continuation isn't that much of a threat, so a good defender will position himself to allow you to cut inside-out. What you do, then, is to take several steps to the open side. If the defender keeps the same relative position, the inside-out cut is now wide open and is an easy throw straight up the field, and a threat to deliver a continuation pass. If the defender adjusts to be more in front of you instead of to the side, you may be able to cut back to the disc for a swing or laterally for a leading "away" pass.
Downfield, you are more likely to work in/out positioning rather than side-to-side. Say the disc is being walked in, and you are planning on cutting first. Put yourself somewhere near the middle or middle-back of the stack. Prior to check in, you reposition yourself further back in the stack, slightly on the open side. By starting out in the middle, the defender will usually adopt a position that at a minimum respects the deep cut (and sometimes even takes it away and concedes the in-cut). As you get deeper, they will usually maintain the same relative position to you, but suddenly the deep cut is not an option, and the in-cut is that much more open. A smart defender will adjust at this point, but amazingly, there aren't that many smart defenders out there [insert general disparaging comment about the intelligence of defensive players versus offensive players]. In the last couple steps before you actually cut, you can also drift more out into the open, making it more of a straight shot clear of poachers. Then simply plant and run hard to the disc. You may also throw in a step away or right at the defender before cutting in, but it's just one step, and you are not waiting for a reaction from the defender before going.
(This is what I have previously called a "quick fake", where you do a fake and continue on to your real cut or throw without waiting for a response. A quick fake is a diversion. A "slow fake" involves making a motion and then reacting to the defender's response. A bunch of back-and-forth jukes from a handler is a slow fake (even if those jukes are quick), because the handler is waiting for a sign that a defender has overcommitted or not reacted before deciding where to go. Sometimes a quick fake becomes a slow fake. A thrower might lift the disc suddenly to set up a low breakmark forehand (the quick fake), but if the defender anticipates correctly and shuts off that forehand, the thrower pivots to the backhand break (the slow fake). A cutter is on the open side and has both short and long open. Do a quick fake out to set up the in cut, go hard in for two or three steps and then read the defender's reaction. If the defender has anticipated the in-cut and has maybe even overcommitted to that, you immediately stop and cut deep as hard as you can.)
Sometimes, through no effort on your part, an "opportunity cut" will present itself. Maybe you're in the stack a little on the open side, your defender is fronting you and not watching the disc at all. At that moment, you're not a deep threat because the disc is not in a position to be hucked. However, you see a swing pass go off to the open side and the receiver is someone who can huck it. Suddenly, you're in great position to cut deep, provided that your defender keeps his focus on you. Allow him to do that by pretending to prepare for your own in-cut. Then, you make a hard step in and immediately reverse and cut deep. The defender will be backing up and even if he is faster than you, you will have enough of a head start that it shouldn't matter.
So, the basic idea is that you need to identify an area that you would like to cut to, then purposefully walk (or shuffle, or run if you must, I suppose) in the opposite direction, giving the defender the opportunity to make a mistake in positioning.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
White Mountain Open
WMO was good overall. It was disheartening to lose the quarterfinals after being up 12-9 and 14-12 in a game to 15, and against a team that is probably about an 8th-10th place at Regionals quality. No doubt about that feeling.
But considering our limited roster, it was a big success. 11 on Saturday, 9 on Sunday, including my wife, whose team bailed on Saturday morning. It was hardly a Murderers' Row, as few of the vintage DoG were there, although on average the team was much younger and probably more mobile than our full team.
In our first game, we beat Bro White, the male half of last year's Mixed finalists Slow White (minus a couple guys trying out for the new team or otherwise absent). Bro White would later give fairly close games to both halves ofBoston Ultimate. Overall it was probably our best game of the weekend for efficient offense and getting turns.The next two games also went pretty well. We handled Koob, the final remnants of the team that made (Masters) Nats in '05 and lost the game to go in '06, and also beat Chuck Wagon (formerly Log, ofBurlington) decently, although the final difference was but two. (They finished about 6th at Regionals last year). Last game was against half of Boston Ultimate. I had already conceded the game and the day, as we were going to get another shot at the other half, we had 9.5 (one had left, one was hobbling), and we were 98% certain of getting a 1st round bye (Bro White would have had to beat Boston Ultimate; I'll leave the Bayesian statistics to the reader, but I estimate that going in BU was a 13-7.5 favorite, final score was 13-10; ok, my Pythagorean estimator predicts somewhere between 74% and 96%). We had real matchup problems, regardless, both in height and speed, leading to lots of easy long goals for them. But I didn't really care, and I can't say I played too hard or got up too much for the game since it was our fourth in a row and we were old.
We were probably a four-goal favorite for Sunday's quarterfinal, even allowing for our small numbers (as mentioned above, lost four and added two). It started out looking like we'd beat the spread, but we let them back in it. We put on a zone and got two breaks and a chance at a third. We built up a lead to 12-9, made it to 14-12, then kept turning it and allowing goals.Our problems that game and on the weekend were mostly throwing execution and choice. Only against Boston Ultimate were they related to age and slow footspeed. Another problem on Sunday was the lack of handlers. As a result, two of us who normally are receivers ended up spending a lot of time near the disc instead of being freed up to cut downfield.
We didn't have a lot of spare time to hang out, often one of the best times of tournaments with old people. Two of our first three games went well into the cap, maybe even to the next round.
In the Bro White game, we went up 7-4, then they came back. Late in the game, I think the point prior to double game, they threw a high hammer, I went after it, I was decently positioned to make a play at it but their guy jumped back into where I was headed, not where the disc was going, but he went mostly up and I was going forward and so I bumped into his back and he called foul. I asked him at least twice if he was sure that he had a play on it and he didn't just misread it, but he insisted on the call, so I let him have it uncontested, and they scored. At double game point, we turned it, and someone threw a medium-range forehand into the endzone, I came off my guy, jumped, and knocked the disc away cleanly, but contacted the receiver on the body afterwards, not hard but not light, either. Foul call, I laugh and say for the first time in my life, "But I got the disc first." Everyone sitting around says no foul, but I just ask the guy to send it back. I had almost decided to give it to him, too, but then I saw Alex walk up (actually he was probably just trying to see what was happening rather than to influence me) and decided to stick with the contest, feeling that had there been an observer there, especially one named Mike G, it would not have been called a foul. It goes back, a couple passes later one of their guys drops a pass while on the goal line, we work it down for the win and the clear path to a 9 am pre-quarters bye. I felt that between the two plays, there was about 1 foul, probably about 0.4 on each one, so I don't feel bad about sending the second one back. Had the first not happened, or had it not been double game point, I probably would have just given up the second one, too.
New pick rule is stupid (but not the people who came up with it!) but I insisted on it being applied about 4 or 5 times (all in our favor), and let two slide (1 for, 1 against). Maybe 1 or 2 of those times, it was probably a good outcome that the play stood, but the other ones it probably should have gone back. Part of the reason for the pick rule is for safety, yet this encourages players not only to continue but to initiate movement. (The times it was a "good outcome" were when the throw was almost coincidental with the call and no one had time to react.)
Alex covered the tournament on his blog, although for some reason it's more Alex-centric.
Big Ego Ultimate lifetime: 17-6, 2 tournament victories, 1 runnerup, 1 "other". Next meeting: Masters Easterns, June 2-3.
But considering our limited roster, it was a big success. 11 on Saturday, 9 on Sunday, including my wife, whose team bailed on Saturday morning. It was hardly a Murderers' Row, as few of the vintage DoG were there, although on average the team was much younger and probably more mobile than our full team.
In our first game, we beat Bro White, the male half of last year's Mixed finalists Slow White (minus a couple guys trying out for the new team or otherwise absent). Bro White would later give fairly close games to both halves ofBoston Ultimate. Overall it was probably our best game of the weekend for efficient offense and getting turns.The next two games also went pretty well. We handled Koob, the final remnants of the team that made (Masters) Nats in '05 and lost the game to go in '06, and also beat Chuck Wagon (formerly Log, ofBurlington) decently, although the final difference was but two. (They finished about 6th at Regionals last year). Last game was against half of Boston Ultimate. I had already conceded the game and the day, as we were going to get another shot at the other half, we had 9.5 (one had left, one was hobbling), and we were 98% certain of getting a 1st round bye (Bro White would have had to beat Boston Ultimate; I'll leave the Bayesian statistics to the reader, but I estimate that going in BU was a 13-7.5 favorite, final score was 13-10; ok, my Pythagorean estimator predicts somewhere between 74% and 96%). We had real matchup problems, regardless, both in height and speed, leading to lots of easy long goals for them. But I didn't really care, and I can't say I played too hard or got up too much for the game since it was our fourth in a row and we were old.
We were probably a four-goal favorite for Sunday's quarterfinal, even allowing for our small numbers (as mentioned above, lost four and added two). It started out looking like we'd beat the spread, but we let them back in it. We put on a zone and got two breaks and a chance at a third. We built up a lead to 12-9, made it to 14-12, then kept turning it and allowing goals.Our problems that game and on the weekend were mostly throwing execution and choice. Only against Boston Ultimate were they related to age and slow footspeed. Another problem on Sunday was the lack of handlers. As a result, two of us who normally are receivers ended up spending a lot of time near the disc instead of being freed up to cut downfield.
We didn't have a lot of spare time to hang out, often one of the best times of tournaments with old people. Two of our first three games went well into the cap, maybe even to the next round.
In the Bro White game, we went up 7-4, then they came back. Late in the game, I think the point prior to double game, they threw a high hammer, I went after it, I was decently positioned to make a play at it but their guy jumped back into where I was headed, not where the disc was going, but he went mostly up and I was going forward and so I bumped into his back and he called foul. I asked him at least twice if he was sure that he had a play on it and he didn't just misread it, but he insisted on the call, so I let him have it uncontested, and they scored. At double game point, we turned it, and someone threw a medium-range forehand into the endzone, I came off my guy, jumped, and knocked the disc away cleanly, but contacted the receiver on the body afterwards, not hard but not light, either. Foul call, I laugh and say for the first time in my life, "But I got the disc first." Everyone sitting around says no foul, but I just ask the guy to send it back. I had almost decided to give it to him, too, but then I saw Alex walk up (actually he was probably just trying to see what was happening rather than to influence me) and decided to stick with the contest, feeling that had there been an observer there, especially one named Mike G, it would not have been called a foul. It goes back, a couple passes later one of their guys drops a pass while on the goal line, we work it down for the win and the clear path to a 9 am pre-quarters bye. I felt that between the two plays, there was about 1 foul, probably about 0.4 on each one, so I don't feel bad about sending the second one back. Had the first not happened, or had it not been double game point, I probably would have just given up the second one, too.
New pick rule is stupid (but not the people who came up with it!) but I insisted on it being applied about 4 or 5 times (all in our favor), and let two slide (1 for, 1 against). Maybe 1 or 2 of those times, it was probably a good outcome that the play stood, but the other ones it probably should have gone back. Part of the reason for the pick rule is for safety, yet this encourages players not only to continue but to initiate movement. (The times it was a "good outcome" were when the throw was almost coincidental with the call and no one had time to react.)
Alex covered the tournament on his blog, although for some reason it's more Alex-centric.
Big Ego Ultimate lifetime: 17-6, 2 tournament victories, 1 runnerup, 1 "other". Next meeting: Masters Easterns, June 2-3.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Call me Luke
It’s been awhile, thought I’d let you all catch up on my sports life.
I’ve been playing in an Over-40 pickup basketball game in town. There is only one guy who I would call a good player, about half the guys have some skills, and the rest are what you would expect from an old man pickup game in an affluent suburb. This has been a great environment for developing my game, much like summer league was back when I first started making a conscious effort to develop more throwing skills. I’m finally making some basketball moves for the first time since that one year in college where I played at lunchtime most days. I even try hard on defense, harder than on O. There are two guys who play unspiritedly. One guy is old and a bit fat and is a bad player, but he’ll take down anyone who beats him and is set for an uncontested layup attempt. He’s quite dangerous, to be honest. He’ll also yell occasionally when a player is shooting. “Very classy,” I said once, but I don’t think he heard. I can excuse his behavior a little bit, because if he didn’t cheat, his team would be at a great disadvantage because he’s so bad. The other guy is more irksome, and actually caused me to lose my cool a few weeks ago. He’s one of the guys with some skills. When he plays hard, he can get open and sometimes he’ll go on a hot streak. But most of the time he’ll just play some clutching and pushing game, usually subtle enough that you wouldn’t notice it but it is what makes it easy to get open or to get in the proper place for a rebound. I got tired of it one day and grabbed his arm as he was about to push off, then did it again the next time to make sure he knew it wasn’t an accident, then gave him a gentle shove just to make it absolutely sure. I’m come very close to making a deliberate bad makeup call, but have limited myself to making snide comments.
Softball season started last night, a thrilling 4-2 win for the Cougars. I saw five pitches in three at-bats, taking one for a strike, taking one for a ball, and putting the other three into play. All of the strikes seemed like pitches I could drive rather than strikes nibbling at the corner. First at-bat was a weak grounder to shortstop that I normally would have beaten out but my legs weren’t loose despite an adequate warmup. Second at-bat was a medium-hard liner into short right-center, an easy single from the moment it left the bat. Third at-bat came in the bottom of the sixth, two outs, runner on first, tie game. It was a hard grounder that the shortstop was able to get a glove on with a good play, but it was a hit no matter how good of a play he could have made. I had hoped/expected to hit a line drive over the left-center fielder’s head. Runners on the corner. I possibly could have made second had I been thinking of it out of the box, but I had expected it to be a clean single with no possibility of making second. The next batter hit a groundball to shortstop. The shortstop fielded it cleanly and looked to toss it to second for the inning-ending forceout, but I got a good jump and got there first. The SS’s throw to first was late and then bounced off the 1B’s glove and squirted down the line. I continued round third and headed home. The throw got there first, but I slide to the outside and swiped the plate with my hand, completely evading the tag. (Merely beating the tag isn’t enough in this league, since the umps generally call any close, cleanly- executed play an out.) This insurance run took the pressure off us in the last inning and we were able to close them out. This game was a big contrast to our previous game last year, a season-ending loss in the first round of the playoffs. That final score was 21-20, featured a ton of errors and walks and home runs, while this one was cleanly-played (we didn’t allow anyone to reach on error, although there were two errors that allowed them to take the extra base). (I really ought to move away from the paradigm of “lack of errors = good fielding”. More important than avoiding errors is making the marginal plays. Our game-winning hit was one of those plays not made. My first grounder to shortstop would have been a play not made had I run a little faster. Those type of plays are at least as frequent as the errors (and many errors happen on those marginal plays where the fielder has to zing the throw).)
I’ve only been out to the golf course once this year, but had a good time, playing 27 holes in about 4 hours. 42-39-44 on the always difficult Stow Acres North. I had a 10 hole stretch where I was only one over par. Many of my recent rounds have featured a stretch of 6-10 holes where I was almost even, so I’m optimistic about my chances of extending that stretch one day soon to a full 18 holes. I got a new 3 wood this winter, replacing a club which I hardly ever used because of a lack of confidence in it, and I am quite pleased. I hit seven fairways in a row with it, and also nailed two strong shots from the fairway over a pond onto the green, shots I knew were stupid but decided to go for anyway. Shot-by-shot available upon request. Unofficial Handicap Index stands at 9.7.
The Frisbee schedule is surprisingly full. I wouldn’t be surprised if I actually played more ultimate this year than in previous years, both in the number of tournaments and points played per tournament. Played Fools already, scheduled for WMO, Masters Easterns, and Boston Invite this spring, probably summer league tournament and Hingham, maybe another summer or fall tournament, then Sectionals (if Masters teams are still allowed to play Open), Regionals and Nationals. That’d be 10, and I’ve played 9, 12, 9, 5, and 10 the last five years.
Red Sox are doing well, Yankees less so. I don’t really get into the “Yankees Suck!” cheer (even though they do), since cheers that focus on the other team are for losers, plus the Red Sox have been the Evil Empire Lite with their big budget and gamesmanship and nearly-unmatched string of championships this century (only five other teams, none of them from NY, has as many titles as the Sox so far). I haven’t seen or even listened to more than a token amount this year, though.
No ski days this winter so far. No long cross-country runs, except for that one nice day this winter where I jogged for about 20 minutes and had to stop once for twice for sore feet.
I’ve been playing in an Over-40 pickup basketball game in town. There is only one guy who I would call a good player, about half the guys have some skills, and the rest are what you would expect from an old man pickup game in an affluent suburb. This has been a great environment for developing my game, much like summer league was back when I first started making a conscious effort to develop more throwing skills. I’m finally making some basketball moves for the first time since that one year in college where I played at lunchtime most days. I even try hard on defense, harder than on O. There are two guys who play unspiritedly. One guy is old and a bit fat and is a bad player, but he’ll take down anyone who beats him and is set for an uncontested layup attempt. He’s quite dangerous, to be honest. He’ll also yell occasionally when a player is shooting. “Very classy,” I said once, but I don’t think he heard. I can excuse his behavior a little bit, because if he didn’t cheat, his team would be at a great disadvantage because he’s so bad. The other guy is more irksome, and actually caused me to lose my cool a few weeks ago. He’s one of the guys with some skills. When he plays hard, he can get open and sometimes he’ll go on a hot streak. But most of the time he’ll just play some clutching and pushing game, usually subtle enough that you wouldn’t notice it but it is what makes it easy to get open or to get in the proper place for a rebound. I got tired of it one day and grabbed his arm as he was about to push off, then did it again the next time to make sure he knew it wasn’t an accident, then gave him a gentle shove just to make it absolutely sure. I’m come very close to making a deliberate bad makeup call, but have limited myself to making snide comments.
Softball season started last night, a thrilling 4-2 win for the Cougars. I saw five pitches in three at-bats, taking one for a strike, taking one for a ball, and putting the other three into play. All of the strikes seemed like pitches I could drive rather than strikes nibbling at the corner. First at-bat was a weak grounder to shortstop that I normally would have beaten out but my legs weren’t loose despite an adequate warmup. Second at-bat was a medium-hard liner into short right-center, an easy single from the moment it left the bat. Third at-bat came in the bottom of the sixth, two outs, runner on first, tie game. It was a hard grounder that the shortstop was able to get a glove on with a good play, but it was a hit no matter how good of a play he could have made. I had hoped/expected to hit a line drive over the left-center fielder’s head. Runners on the corner. I possibly could have made second had I been thinking of it out of the box, but I had expected it to be a clean single with no possibility of making second. The next batter hit a groundball to shortstop. The shortstop fielded it cleanly and looked to toss it to second for the inning-ending forceout, but I got a good jump and got there first. The SS’s throw to first was late and then bounced off the 1B’s glove and squirted down the line. I continued round third and headed home. The throw got there first, but I slide to the outside and swiped the plate with my hand, completely evading the tag. (Merely beating the tag isn’t enough in this league, since the umps generally call any close, cleanly- executed play an out.) This insurance run took the pressure off us in the last inning and we were able to close them out. This game was a big contrast to our previous game last year, a season-ending loss in the first round of the playoffs. That final score was 21-20, featured a ton of errors and walks and home runs, while this one was cleanly-played (we didn’t allow anyone to reach on error, although there were two errors that allowed them to take the extra base). (I really ought to move away from the paradigm of “lack of errors = good fielding”. More important than avoiding errors is making the marginal plays. Our game-winning hit was one of those plays not made. My first grounder to shortstop would have been a play not made had I run a little faster. Those type of plays are at least as frequent as the errors (and many errors happen on those marginal plays where the fielder has to zing the throw).)
I’ve only been out to the golf course once this year, but had a good time, playing 27 holes in about 4 hours. 42-39-44 on the always difficult Stow Acres North. I had a 10 hole stretch where I was only one over par. Many of my recent rounds have featured a stretch of 6-10 holes where I was almost even, so I’m optimistic about my chances of extending that stretch one day soon to a full 18 holes. I got a new 3 wood this winter, replacing a club which I hardly ever used because of a lack of confidence in it, and I am quite pleased. I hit seven fairways in a row with it, and also nailed two strong shots from the fairway over a pond onto the green, shots I knew were stupid but decided to go for anyway. Shot-by-shot available upon request. Unofficial Handicap Index stands at 9.7.
The Frisbee schedule is surprisingly full. I wouldn’t be surprised if I actually played more ultimate this year than in previous years, both in the number of tournaments and points played per tournament. Played Fools already, scheduled for WMO, Masters Easterns, and Boston Invite this spring, probably summer league tournament and Hingham, maybe another summer or fall tournament, then Sectionals (if Masters teams are still allowed to play Open), Regionals and Nationals. That’d be 10, and I’ve played 9, 12, 9, 5, and 10 the last five years.
Red Sox are doing well, Yankees less so. I don’t really get into the “Yankees Suck!” cheer (even though they do), since cheers that focus on the other team are for losers, plus the Red Sox have been the Evil Empire Lite with their big budget and gamesmanship and nearly-unmatched string of championships this century (only five other teams, none of them from NY, has as many titles as the Sox so far). I haven’t seen or even listened to more than a token amount this year, though.
No ski days this winter so far. No long cross-country runs, except for that one nice day this winter where I jogged for about 20 minutes and had to stop once for twice for sore feet.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Fools, again
Wow, I just finished reading last year's Fools report, and I realized I hardly need to type anything in for this year, even down to the comments. In fact, I'll comment on that article first:
1. It appears that this is the first use of the phrase "huck and hope" (although it wasn't capitalized or TMed yet).
2. "This is our year"
3. "I wouldn't want to win any tournament that this team could win."
4. Funny stories on the sideline and in the beer tent still abound.
I suppose I can add some comments about this year, too.
Day 1 was about the same as the previous years, with one notable exception being that I was mentally prepared for it and so did not get depressed at not being able to run.
We were really bad throwing deep all weekend, such that once again the Indefensible would have been a terrific defensive strategy.
No warmup again this year other than before the quarters.
I was excited when I got to the fields Sunday and saw that games were to 9 with a 50 minute cap. I was going to have to leave no later than 4, which would have been sometime during the final, so I probably would have had to tank us in the semis so as not to have to miss a game, but this enabled me to be around for everything. Plus, games to 9 are short and might favor an old team. I got moving around, actually ran some lengths before the game, and broke more of a sweat then than I had all day Friday. Alas, we made a few too many turnovers and let the game drift away.
Got screwed over by the airline on the trip back, getting bumped from our flight despite being frequent flyer members and checking in nearly two hours before our flight. They couldn't put us on the next flight either and we had to wait until 2 pm the next day. Also had a two hour delay on the outbound flight, and they left our carseat at the Dulles Airport and so had to give us a loaner in Boston. I remarked to my wife that the Man really took it to us this weekend, and the only thing we got to stick to the Man was sneaking into the hotel pool after they declared it closed from 10-3 because state law required a lifeguard in their 4' deep pool. But then I managed to make a slightly longer list of sticking it to the man: 18 year old got to drink beer, we sped, I took a banana from the hotel buffet, I fed the boy a couple of pieces of fruit from the buffet. But I think the Man beat us overall.
I can't believe that the pick rule is as it was being played. If a pick happens, 12 players stop playing, but the thrower and a cutter don't, the thrower can huck it to the cutter for a goal, and it stands because it doesn't "affect the play". I can see that if the call is nearly coincidental with the throw, then the pass should stand, but there ought to be a limit of something like 2 seconds after which it goes back. There is nothing in the rules that says that the thrower has to (or even ought to) acknowledge the call, so he should examine whether something is wide open prior to acknowledging it, per the rules, some will probably say. Since the pick is intended to reduce the risk of injury, writing the rules to demand that players play on after a pick call is made seems counterproductive.
I didn't break anything, although there was a point I wanted to take something made of wood and beat it against the ground repeatedly. Unfortunately, none of the Canadians' mallets were available. Oh, yeah, I beat the Canadians in a bocce-off for the flip one game. I warned them that I was Italian, but they didn't listen.
1. It appears that this is the first use of the phrase "huck and hope" (although it wasn't capitalized or TMed yet).
2. "This is our year"
3. "I wouldn't want to win any tournament that this team could win."
4. Funny stories on the sideline and in the beer tent still abound.
I suppose I can add some comments about this year, too.
Day 1 was about the same as the previous years, with one notable exception being that I was mentally prepared for it and so did not get depressed at not being able to run.
We were really bad throwing deep all weekend, such that once again the Indefensible would have been a terrific defensive strategy.
No warmup again this year other than before the quarters.
I was excited when I got to the fields Sunday and saw that games were to 9 with a 50 minute cap. I was going to have to leave no later than 4, which would have been sometime during the final, so I probably would have had to tank us in the semis so as not to have to miss a game, but this enabled me to be around for everything. Plus, games to 9 are short and might favor an old team. I got moving around, actually ran some lengths before the game, and broke more of a sweat then than I had all day Friday. Alas, we made a few too many turnovers and let the game drift away.
Got screwed over by the airline on the trip back, getting bumped from our flight despite being frequent flyer members and checking in nearly two hours before our flight. They couldn't put us on the next flight either and we had to wait until 2 pm the next day. Also had a two hour delay on the outbound flight, and they left our carseat at the Dulles Airport and so had to give us a loaner in Boston. I remarked to my wife that the Man really took it to us this weekend, and the only thing we got to stick to the Man was sneaking into the hotel pool after they declared it closed from 10-3 because state law required a lifeguard in their 4' deep pool. But then I managed to make a slightly longer list of sticking it to the man: 18 year old got to drink beer, we sped, I took a banana from the hotel buffet, I fed the boy a couple of pieces of fruit from the buffet. But I think the Man beat us overall.
I can't believe that the pick rule is as it was being played. If a pick happens, 12 players stop playing, but the thrower and a cutter don't, the thrower can huck it to the cutter for a goal, and it stands because it doesn't "affect the play". I can see that if the call is nearly coincidental with the throw, then the pass should stand, but there ought to be a limit of something like 2 seconds after which it goes back. There is nothing in the rules that says that the thrower has to (or even ought to) acknowledge the call, so he should examine whether something is wide open prior to acknowledging it, per the rules, some will probably say. Since the pick is intended to reduce the risk of injury, writing the rules to demand that players play on after a pick call is made seems counterproductive.
I didn't break anything, although there was a point I wanted to take something made of wood and beat it against the ground repeatedly. Unfortunately, none of the Canadians' mallets were available. Oh, yeah, I beat the Canadians in a bocce-off for the flip one game. I warned them that I was Italian, but they didn't listen.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
change in Boston ultimate
Well, I guess the word is out, so there is no sense in keeping it a secret anymore. Many people asked me about the impending change to Boston ultimate, and yes, it's true.
I sent my retirement letter to DoG a couple weeks ago.
It was remarkably short and dry, I must admit. I tried to muster up some mush, but I got all of my teary-eyed feelings about retirement out of the way back in 2004, my first "final" season. That year, I went through the fall knowing that it would be my last, so I was able to deal with all the baggage of experiencing my last practice, last trip to Sarasota, last time leaving the fields, last free beer at the tent, etc. (at least as an Open player; at this point, I still don’t think that Masters counts, even as I plan to play this year). I still really wanted to play and felt that I could play, but it just seemed like too much to handle anymore, especially having a small child.
But then I got a couple months away from the season, and I had already begun to miss it, and to forget the bad parts. I decided that I didn't really have to retire, and you know we gave Furious a helluva game in the quarters, so who knows what another year would bring? So I plunged ahead. (Cynics say I came back just to sell more copies of the book.)
The next year wasn't nearly as hard to continue. I had a strong performance at Nationals, and the team made semis for the first time in three years.
But now, well, I'm perfectly fine with not playing, although of course Mr. Big Ego thinks he can still cut it at the highest level. It's not that I'm retiring to spend more time with my family (in his wonderful book "The Game", Ken Dryden talked about how he and his wife would laugh at any athlete who claimed that when retiring; I highly recommend the book, especially to anyone at the end of his athletic career). And it's not that I'm ready to move on with my life. It's just that all things considered, getting the band back together is a much more intriguing proposition. Yes, we're going to dust off the old DoG guys and relive the glory days, minus the glory.
We're still in the process of figuring out how to structure the team and what sort of goals to set. (One opponent this weekend asked if we planned to win six in a row in Masters. I replied that it's more likely that one of us would die on the field first. He replied, "That's morbid. Probably true, but morbid.") I tried at Fools to convince other old-timers to get their bands back together so we could all go at each other, but I'm not sure whether that will work out. Would anyone pay to attend a DoG vs NYNY match, maybe with an Earth vs Graffiti undercard (maybe as a fundraiser for some worthy cause)? Would we resort to breaking out the canes to hit each other for old times' sake?
I had a very satisfying and fun career, and while I feel that I earned what I accomplished, I know also that I was lucky, both genetically and environmentally. Even as I made fun of those who were perpetually injured, I probably didn't do much to escape being in that group other than avoiding collisions and knowing when not to push a tweaking muscle. And sure, though I did "bust my ass doing wind sprints in the cold and rain", so did a lot of other people.
I will miss being a nanocelebrity, and being able to make preposterous remarks about how infallible and worthy I am and draw laughs instead of strange stares. I don't think I'll miss people stopping me to ask about rules interpretations, even if the new pick rule is indeed stupid. I'll miss the camaraderie, although that should still be there in Masters, if not moreso (though not the sense of a shared struggle through the year). Most of all I'll miss the occasional game that is so consuming that you forget there is anything else in the world. I can mention "the Ring game" to an old teammate and not need to clarify which one, or "that one huck", or "Bim's catch", and I'll get teary-eyed and we'll both say, "yeah."
Aging of course was a factor in the decision. As recently as age 37 in 2002, the year we were a couple plays away from winning Worlds and Nationals (although we won neither), I felt as dominant as ever on offense, up there with 1995 and 1998 as my peak years. My overall awesomeness wasn’t as great in 2002, though, as I stopped being put in on defense in about 2000, our second year with a roster of 25. (I played about a dozen points of D in 1999, many of them important ones, as I was surprised to remember while watching the Above & Beyond DVD recently.) But now the peak isn't as high, but probably more importantly, I can't play at near-peak nearly as often. The warmup period is too long and the cooling down too quick such that the ebbs and flows of the game just make it really hard to be at that peak all the time.
Thus, big ego ultimate is dead, long live Big Ego Ultimate. All you other old guys, block off June 2-3 for Masters Easterns and the end of October for the UPA Championships, and I'll see you out there, if not on the field, then in the beer tent.
I sent my retirement letter to DoG a couple weeks ago.
It was remarkably short and dry, I must admit. I tried to muster up some mush, but I got all of my teary-eyed feelings about retirement out of the way back in 2004, my first "final" season. That year, I went through the fall knowing that it would be my last, so I was able to deal with all the baggage of experiencing my last practice, last trip to Sarasota, last time leaving the fields, last free beer at the tent, etc. (at least as an Open player; at this point, I still don’t think that Masters counts, even as I plan to play this year). I still really wanted to play and felt that I could play, but it just seemed like too much to handle anymore, especially having a small child.
But then I got a couple months away from the season, and I had already begun to miss it, and to forget the bad parts. I decided that I didn't really have to retire, and you know we gave Furious a helluva game in the quarters, so who knows what another year would bring? So I plunged ahead. (Cynics say I came back just to sell more copies of the book.)
The next year wasn't nearly as hard to continue. I had a strong performance at Nationals, and the team made semis for the first time in three years.
But now, well, I'm perfectly fine with not playing, although of course Mr. Big Ego thinks he can still cut it at the highest level. It's not that I'm retiring to spend more time with my family (in his wonderful book "The Game", Ken Dryden talked about how he and his wife would laugh at any athlete who claimed that when retiring; I highly recommend the book, especially to anyone at the end of his athletic career). And it's not that I'm ready to move on with my life. It's just that all things considered, getting the band back together is a much more intriguing proposition. Yes, we're going to dust off the old DoG guys and relive the glory days, minus the glory.
We're still in the process of figuring out how to structure the team and what sort of goals to set. (One opponent this weekend asked if we planned to win six in a row in Masters. I replied that it's more likely that one of us would die on the field first. He replied, "That's morbid. Probably true, but morbid.") I tried at Fools to convince other old-timers to get their bands back together so we could all go at each other, but I'm not sure whether that will work out. Would anyone pay to attend a DoG vs NYNY match, maybe with an Earth vs Graffiti undercard (maybe as a fundraiser for some worthy cause)? Would we resort to breaking out the canes to hit each other for old times' sake?
I had a very satisfying and fun career, and while I feel that I earned what I accomplished, I know also that I was lucky, both genetically and environmentally. Even as I made fun of those who were perpetually injured, I probably didn't do much to escape being in that group other than avoiding collisions and knowing when not to push a tweaking muscle. And sure, though I did "bust my ass doing wind sprints in the cold and rain", so did a lot of other people.
I will miss being a nanocelebrity, and being able to make preposterous remarks about how infallible and worthy I am and draw laughs instead of strange stares. I don't think I'll miss people stopping me to ask about rules interpretations, even if the new pick rule is indeed stupid. I'll miss the camaraderie, although that should still be there in Masters, if not moreso (though not the sense of a shared struggle through the year). Most of all I'll miss the occasional game that is so consuming that you forget there is anything else in the world. I can mention "the Ring game" to an old teammate and not need to clarify which one, or "that one huck", or "Bim's catch", and I'll get teary-eyed and we'll both say, "yeah."
Aging of course was a factor in the decision. As recently as age 37 in 2002, the year we were a couple plays away from winning Worlds and Nationals (although we won neither), I felt as dominant as ever on offense, up there with 1995 and 1998 as my peak years. My overall awesomeness wasn’t as great in 2002, though, as I stopped being put in on defense in about 2000, our second year with a roster of 25. (I played about a dozen points of D in 1999, many of them important ones, as I was surprised to remember while watching the Above & Beyond DVD recently.) But now the peak isn't as high, but probably more importantly, I can't play at near-peak nearly as often. The warmup period is too long and the cooling down too quick such that the ebbs and flows of the game just make it really hard to be at that peak all the time.
Thus, big ego ultimate is dead, long live Big Ego Ultimate. All you other old guys, block off June 2-3 for Masters Easterns and the end of October for the UPA Championships, and I'll see you out there, if not on the field, then in the beer tent.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Studs Theory vs Plug N Play
UPDATE: Added graph that showed profile in games DoG won.
REQUEST: If you have subbing sheets for your team at Nationals, please contact me if you'd be willing to share them (after anonymizing).
At Nationals this year, DoG had the flattest playing time profile I’ve ever seen. Only one guy played more than ¾ of the O points, and even he was only at 83% (sitting out about 2 O points per game). In contrast, vintage DoG and practically all the top teams now have several guys who more or less played every O point.
Here’s the graph. Although not necessary for the purposes of this discussion, players are categorized as Handlers, Receivers, or Receivers who played handler if necessary.
Some points:
Some of this is obviously do to a flatter talent level, which unfortunately is probably due to us not having the players who would be selected to an All-Nationals team, rather than having every player be that way. I found it hard to sit out so much and then try to take on an important role when in. The flat profile means that there are only a couple real starters (and even they are barely so) and everyone else is a sub. Ego has to be part of an offensive player's package, and being handled as subs destroys that ego. To belabor the point, starters do not merely play more than subs, but they do more when they are in. By telling each player that he is a sub, the team also tells them that they aren't good enough to be the man when he is in the game. Equally importantly, the player has to draw one of the following conclusions, depending on how the subbing is done: either whatever I do has little effect on my playing time, in which case I don’t have to play smart, or I am going to be benched if I make a mistake, in which case I probably should play so conservatively that I’m not going to help the team.
REQUEST: If you have subbing sheets for your team at Nationals, please contact me if you'd be willing to share them (after anonymizing).
At Nationals this year, DoG had the flattest playing time profile I’ve ever seen. Only one guy played more than ¾ of the O points, and even he was only at 83% (sitting out about 2 O points per game). In contrast, vintage DoG and practically all the top teams now have several guys who more or less played every O point.
Here’s the graph. Although not necessary for the purposes of this discussion, players are categorized as Handlers, Receivers, or Receivers who played handler if necessary.
Some points:
- Lots of guys didn’t play any O; only me and Al didn’t play any D.
- The top 7 O played only 2/3 of the time, leaving an average of 2+ guys on the line each point who weren’t considered starters.
- D % played is less (7th most is less than 50%).
- Only 3 or 4 guys got more than a token amount of points on both sides.
- Although this is averaged over all games, and you would suspect that the numbers would be different for tough vs easy games, DoG didn’t have any easy games at Nationals last year, and there was no real difference between relatively easy and relatively tough. There were about an equal number of O and D points.
Some of this is obviously do to a flatter talent level, which unfortunately is probably due to us not having the players who would be selected to an All-Nationals team, rather than having every player be that way. I found it hard to sit out so much and then try to take on an important role when in. The flat profile means that there are only a couple real starters (and even they are barely so) and everyone else is a sub. Ego has to be part of an offensive player's package, and being handled as subs destroys that ego. To belabor the point, starters do not merely play more than subs, but they do more when they are in. By telling each player that he is a sub, the team also tells them that they aren't good enough to be the man when he is in the game. Equally importantly, the player has to draw one of the following conclusions, depending on how the subbing is done: either whatever I do has little effect on my playing time, in which case I don’t have to play smart, or I am going to be benched if I make a mistake, in which case I probably should play so conservatively that I’m not going to help the team.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
UCPC, Day 1
Ok, there's only one day, but it feels like a multi-day event.
First, I was surprised to find that there were several people who traveled great distances. Kudos to everyone who made it out. I'm sure it was worth your while.
As a presenter, I was sorry that I only got to attend two of the other presentations, neither of them by my ex-teammates, who were presenting at the same time. Each presenter gave his talk twice during the four sessions (14 presenters total, I think). Even the full-time attendees still then had to choose between presentations.
My talk (powerpoint here, one-page summary here ) went well, I thought. The two sessions had different feels to them. I incorporated some of the questions from the first session into the second, and as a result of that and other changes, I ran over on the second session after having 10-15 minutes in the first one just for questions. The second session went smoother as well, as I didn't have to fight over as many words, and knew when to just go ahead and leave one slide and start on the next.
I left before the panel discussion, as it was already after 5 pm and there was still a presentation going on in the auditorium.
Good job by George and Tiina assembling the myriad volunteers and vendors. You never would have known that this was the first of its kind by how well things seemed to go. Thanks to them.
First, I was surprised to find that there were several people who traveled great distances. Kudos to everyone who made it out. I'm sure it was worth your while.
As a presenter, I was sorry that I only got to attend two of the other presentations, neither of them by my ex-teammates, who were presenting at the same time. Each presenter gave his talk twice during the four sessions (14 presenters total, I think). Even the full-time attendees still then had to choose between presentations.
My talk (powerpoint here, one-page summary here ) went well, I thought. The two sessions had different feels to them. I incorporated some of the questions from the first session into the second, and as a result of that and other changes, I ran over on the second session after having 10-15 minutes in the first one just for questions. The second session went smoother as well, as I didn't have to fight over as many words, and knew when to just go ahead and leave one slide and start on the next.
I left before the panel discussion, as it was already after 5 pm and there was still a presentation going on in the auditorium.
Good job by George and Tiina assembling the myriad volunteers and vendors. You never would have known that this was the first of its kind by how well things seemed to go. Thanks to them.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
what's in a name?
DoG, by any other name, would swill just as sweet.
So, who owns the name Death or Glory? A few years ago, a bunch of us got an email from some kid at a high school in Georgia, I think it was, who wanted to call themselves Death or Glory in our honor. Most of us, I think, didn’t want it to happen, as it might somehow sully the name, or perhaps would imply a relationship between the teams, and as we didn’t know them at all, couldn’t say they’d be good followers. It didn’t even occur to me at the time that there are tons of little Red Sox or Patriots teams out there without any hint of a link with the professional team, but then again, a Little League team would not be eligible for the World Series, while the junior DoG would technically have a shot at meeting big DoG in the finals of Nationals. Anyway, I don’t know if a few people responded or if every single one of us ignored the request, but we never heard from him again nor did we ever run across another DoG (not to say that there haven’t been copycat names like RoQ or BoG or anything else with the meme X or Y).
What got me thinking about this was that another old-timer suggested to me that now would be a good time to retire the name DoG, as Alex and I are almost certainly (usual disclaimer here) not coming back for another season in Open. Do we (and the other departed DoG from the early days) have any rights to the name? What if the team split into two factions and both wanted to keep the name? What if we wanted to call our Masters team DoG? What if the team started to play the HnH and the alumni decided that it wasn't appropriate for DoG? Could we ask the current players to think about a new name, and should they listen?
Who owns the name? There is no team owner. The members of the team have the right to come up with their own name, subject to decency requirements at big events, but what about when names are already taken? There have been a couple cases in ultimate history where teams have appropriated their names or logos from copyrighted entities (Arm and Hammer, Twisted Metal) and got into some trouble. How about Furious George even?
I knew I should have trademarked the name back in 1994.
PS. Did anything happen at the UPA Board meeting? Haven’t seen anything yet.
So, who owns the name Death or Glory? A few years ago, a bunch of us got an email from some kid at a high school in Georgia, I think it was, who wanted to call themselves Death or Glory in our honor. Most of us, I think, didn’t want it to happen, as it might somehow sully the name, or perhaps would imply a relationship between the teams, and as we didn’t know them at all, couldn’t say they’d be good followers. It didn’t even occur to me at the time that there are tons of little Red Sox or Patriots teams out there without any hint of a link with the professional team, but then again, a Little League team would not be eligible for the World Series, while the junior DoG would technically have a shot at meeting big DoG in the finals of Nationals. Anyway, I don’t know if a few people responded or if every single one of us ignored the request, but we never heard from him again nor did we ever run across another DoG (not to say that there haven’t been copycat names like RoQ or BoG or anything else with the meme X or Y).
What got me thinking about this was that another old-timer suggested to me that now would be a good time to retire the name DoG, as Alex and I are almost certainly (usual disclaimer here) not coming back for another season in Open. Do we (and the other departed DoG from the early days) have any rights to the name? What if the team split into two factions and both wanted to keep the name? What if we wanted to call our Masters team DoG? What if the team started to play the HnH and the alumni decided that it wasn't appropriate for DoG? Could we ask the current players to think about a new name, and should they listen?
Who owns the name? There is no team owner. The members of the team have the right to come up with their own name, subject to decency requirements at big events, but what about when names are already taken? There have been a couple cases in ultimate history where teams have appropriated their names or logos from copyrighted entities (Arm and Hammer, Twisted Metal) and got into some trouble. How about Furious George even?
I knew I should have trademarked the name back in 1994.
PS. Did anything happen at the UPA Board meeting? Haven’t seen anything yet.
Friday, December 01, 2006
decision-making
I'm going to be doing a presentation at the Ultimate Coaches & Players Conference to be held in a suburb of Boston on January 27 of next year. As George mentioned, registration is now live. Mention that you saw it on this blog and you can register for only $40 through January 7. I think the organizers also mentioned that their meeting space will limit the number of people that can attend, so register early.
Here is the abstract for my presentation:
What separates players with equal physical ability is the mental ability to process information and make decisions on the field. While innate differences exist in this mental ability, it can also be developed through practice. This presentation will examine many areas of ultimate where decision-making comes into play (throwing, cutting, reacting to poaches, defensive positioning) and will touch upon team-level decision-making during games.
Here is the abstract for my presentation:
What separates players with equal physical ability is the mental ability to process information and make decisions on the field. While innate differences exist in this mental ability, it can also be developed through practice. This presentation will examine many areas of ultimate where decision-making comes into play (throwing, cutting, reacting to poaches, defensive positioning) and will touch upon team-level decision-making during games.
Monday, November 27, 2006
WFDF congress
WFDF held their Congress at Worlds this month, apparently. Here’s the link to the minutes. Some comments:
- It seems that every single request for player eligibility was approved, even the one where there was a comment “at some point we’re actually going to have to enforce these eligibility rules.” WFDF still seems to have the old UPA mindset of “yeah, ok, I guess.” Which is good in many ways, and more in line with how ultimate used to be, just not what the UPA is doing now.
- There were many comments on the World Games and what to change, but nowhere did it mention even considering changing from Mixed to either Open or Women’s play.
- WFDF is considering alternating 4 men/3 women and 3 men/4 women for Mixed rather than offense chooses. The recommendation was to switch them “every other point”, but I’m not sure if they mean “two points with 4 men, then two points with 4 women” or “one of each”. The former is better, since the latter would have one team always going upwind with 4 women (or 4 men, take your pick) and the other going that way with 3.
- There was some discussion of bid allocation for the next World Clubs, and a new, semi-formal system put in place. These allotments always depend on the showing at the previous WUCC and WUGC. 25% (about 7-10 for Open) go for strength and 10% for attendance. It could mean that Japan gets more bids to the next one than does the US. Although everyone in the world who cared to attend this world championship did attend, in 2010 it will likely be in Europe and may be limited to “80-90 teams” for all divisions.
- They are looking to update the rules, and the rules sub-committee includes some of the usual suspects, but it's odd that they made no mention of the fact that the UPA is also in the process of updating their rules. Golf recently made a great effort to get the USGA and the R&A to iron out differences in the two sets, but now ultimate might be splitting further. Of course, there is an unreconciliable difference regarding Observers, but there are other things being changed in the 11th edition of the UPA rules that will probably not be in the WFDF's new set. I suppose I could look, but nah. But here are some things I did see:
- 2.7. Teams are guardians of the Spirit of the Game, and must:
2.7.1. take responsibility for teaching their players the rules and good spirit,
2.7.2. discipline players who display poor spirit; and
2.7.3. provide positive feedback to other teams about how to improve their adherence to the Spirit of the Game. - No exposed metal on cleats or wristwatches, even one with a strap and no metal. Not sure how that could be dangerous, other than someone getting into a fight because of an argument about timing.
- Pick distance is 5 meters.
- Ok, it says that men and women alternate 4/3 after every two points.
- Time limit is 75 seconds, not 90 as it is here.
- Let’s give Corey an asterisk, just because.
- There were many comments on the World Games and what to change, but nowhere did it mention even considering changing from Mixed to either Open or Women’s play.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
HnH and SLG revisited
There are really two dimensions to the Huck ‘n’ Hope, and I’ve been ignoring one of them. Let’s consider four teams:
A: Cuts deep relentlessly, hucks it to 50% of those cuts
B: Cuts deep relentlessly, hucks it to 20% of those cuts
C: Cuts deep occasionally, hucks it to 50% of those cuts
D: Cuts deep occasionally, hucks it to 20% of those cuts
A and B might be considered aggressive. D would be labeled by all as conservative, and C probably would be considered conservative. But looking at it another way, the throwers on A and C are the aggressive players, while B and D’s throwers are considered conservative. I’ve only been considering how often teams throw deep, ignoring how often teams throw deep given the number of deep cuts they get.
I think B is probably the best strategy. This is what golf mental game guru Dr. Bob Rotella refers to as “conservative strategy, cocky swing.” The problem with A is related to decision-making. Other things being equal, B is going to have a much better huck percentage than A while still hucking on almost as many possessions (but will make more passes before hucking). A will chuck it any time the receiver has a step and they can get the throw off (think Allen Iverson). B will eschew these marginal choices and will require a little more before deciding that it’s a good choice.
It’s certainly possible to go too far. If you only take 90% chances, then maybe you’ll complete 90% of your hucks, but you’ll be passing up 80% shots when you only need maybe a 50-60% chance to come out ahead.
So, who wants to be the one to say who A, B, C, and D are? And who from those teams wants to refute?
A: Cuts deep relentlessly, hucks it to 50% of those cuts
B: Cuts deep relentlessly, hucks it to 20% of those cuts
C: Cuts deep occasionally, hucks it to 50% of those cuts
D: Cuts deep occasionally, hucks it to 20% of those cuts
A and B might be considered aggressive. D would be labeled by all as conservative, and C probably would be considered conservative. But looking at it another way, the throwers on A and C are the aggressive players, while B and D’s throwers are considered conservative. I’ve only been considering how often teams throw deep, ignoring how often teams throw deep given the number of deep cuts they get.
I think B is probably the best strategy. This is what golf mental game guru Dr. Bob Rotella refers to as “conservative strategy, cocky swing.” The problem with A is related to decision-making. Other things being equal, B is going to have a much better huck percentage than A while still hucking on almost as many possessions (but will make more passes before hucking). A will chuck it any time the receiver has a step and they can get the throw off (think Allen Iverson). B will eschew these marginal choices and will require a little more before deciding that it’s a good choice.
It’s certainly possible to go too far. If you only take 90% chances, then maybe you’ll complete 90% of your hucks, but you’ll be passing up 80% shots when you only need maybe a 50-60% chance to come out ahead.
So, who wants to be the one to say who A, B, C, and D are? And who from those teams wants to refute?
Monday, November 06, 2006
100 000
Congrats to a visitor from lmdi.com from Southfield, Michigan, who is visitor #100 000 to this blog. Condolences to centra.ind.com (99999) and 216.113.168.# (100001) who barely missed.
Interestingly, I also got page view #200 000 today.
This blog started on 3/24/05. The 1000th visitor came on 5/3/05. October had over 10 000 visitors, the most to date.
From its inception until the end of the 2005 season, the site grew every month, but then an off-season and more sporadic posting since then has resulted in up-and-down numbers. Take a look at the graph of the monthly total since last year.
I reckon this traffic puts me in the top million blogs out there, so thanks for your support!
Friday, November 03, 2006
nats comment
Welcome back to AJ, who was obviously holding onto his secrets for the past 9 months. Congrats, AJ and all of Chain, except Kid, of course, for a great tournament.
I'm reposting what I wrote at the end of the comments, just so those who only check in at ultimatetalk will be able to read about me. Nothing else new here.
I felt like I played pretty well, although I had only one play worthy of a highlight film (at least one I'd want to be part of; I also got skyed once by a taller player, although I have evidence that my feet were higher than his). It was mostly just getting open and completing passes. I think I had four turnovers and two other incompletions on passes to me. First turnover came when Forch changed his cut as I was throwing and I couldn't stop it; I almost nailed the marker in the face with that one. Second came when I threw a with-the-force backhand into the ground a lot shy of my target; there was something funky with the mark that made me think I was just going to be fouled or maybe I just lost sight of where I was throwing or something that my mechanics were way off. I dropped a low pass in the wind against Rhino (got a brushburn from that one). And I threw a pass to BVH when he wasn't open but was still cutting; it was my first point after being on the massage table for 20 minutes (I took this long only because we were up by several and there was only one O point in that time) and I was out of the flow of the game a bit, so when I caught a swing I just turned and threw, but his defender was already on his way by him by that time. He called a foul, there was some bitching about it, after about two minutes the coach went up to him and said something and I came up to him and tried to say that it wasn't a foul but he had already put the disc down. On the receiving end, Alex threw me a huck in the Furious game after we were already down by 6, I looked up to the forehand side because there was a lot of room there and I thought the force was that way, and by the time I caught sight of it and turned the other way, I had lost too much momentum and couldn't catch up to it. Had I been expecting the backhand the whole way, I would have caught it. And Doug threw me a too-weak forehand in the Sockeye game where another cutter took too long to clear out and his defender got the layout poach block.
I felt that Friday was my best day of the tournament, in sharp contrast to the past several years where Saturday was my best day. I once again felt stronger on Saturday, but the space wasn't there or something such that I didn't get the disc as much as I wanted to against Sockeye, without feeling that it was because my man was on me (although maybe he was, I don't know). Sockeye was effective at clogging the lanes against us, and maybe our overall team speed (especially on offense) killed us.
Defensively, I felt ok. No blocks, but I created several high stalls (some of them leading to turnovers) due to good non-fouling marking, and I remember preventing some cuts. There were two long passes thrown to my man and caught on the first day, but none after that despite playing some HnH teams who got the disc plenty of times when I was on the field. There were a few passes over the weekend where my guy beat me right away on an in-cut so I just ambled in after him. Maybe it's a little lazy, but there is no practical difference (given that I'm not going to administer a bump as soon as he catches it even though the kids today seem to think it's cool) since I'm not going to be able to catch up anyway and I was there by the time he caught it and turned and the force didn't change.
I played a little more than I expected and probably about as much as I deserved, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. Forch played well offensively except for a bunch of forced hucks, but otherwise I didn't feel anyone on the O stood out as playing well.
I had two points that stood out for me. One was against Furious on the first point of the game. Pitted against a defender that apparently everyone on Furious knows I can't stand playing against because of his hands and bumpiness, I was determined to show him, but I established that I wasn't going to be intimidated, got open for four or five passes with the force, and scored the goal. The other point was an upwinder against Rhino. I was called as the third handler, and got open on several resets and quickly got the disc moving again, leading to a big goal.
Overall, I was somewhat disappointed in the amount of contact and petty calls. In order, among the teams I played with and against, I would rank them Furious, Sockeye, Revolver, us, Rhino, the others. 3 of the 4 NW teams outcalled/outfouled us despite us being a little chippy ourselves. I didn't watch either semi (beer tent was too far from the fields), so I can't comment on them.
I'm reposting what I wrote at the end of the comments, just so those who only check in at ultimatetalk will be able to read about me. Nothing else new here.
I felt like I played pretty well, although I had only one play worthy of a highlight film (at least one I'd want to be part of; I also got skyed once by a taller player, although I have evidence that my feet were higher than his). It was mostly just getting open and completing passes. I think I had four turnovers and two other incompletions on passes to me. First turnover came when Forch changed his cut as I was throwing and I couldn't stop it; I almost nailed the marker in the face with that one. Second came when I threw a with-the-force backhand into the ground a lot shy of my target; there was something funky with the mark that made me think I was just going to be fouled or maybe I just lost sight of where I was throwing or something that my mechanics were way off. I dropped a low pass in the wind against Rhino (got a brushburn from that one). And I threw a pass to BVH when he wasn't open but was still cutting; it was my first point after being on the massage table for 20 minutes (I took this long only because we were up by several and there was only one O point in that time) and I was out of the flow of the game a bit, so when I caught a swing I just turned and threw, but his defender was already on his way by him by that time. He called a foul, there was some bitching about it, after about two minutes the coach went up to him and said something and I came up to him and tried to say that it wasn't a foul but he had already put the disc down. On the receiving end, Alex threw me a huck in the Furious game after we were already down by 6, I looked up to the forehand side because there was a lot of room there and I thought the force was that way, and by the time I caught sight of it and turned the other way, I had lost too much momentum and couldn't catch up to it. Had I been expecting the backhand the whole way, I would have caught it. And Doug threw me a too-weak forehand in the Sockeye game where another cutter took too long to clear out and his defender got the layout poach block.
I felt that Friday was my best day of the tournament, in sharp contrast to the past several years where Saturday was my best day. I once again felt stronger on Saturday, but the space wasn't there or something such that I didn't get the disc as much as I wanted to against Sockeye, without feeling that it was because my man was on me (although maybe he was, I don't know). Sockeye was effective at clogging the lanes against us, and maybe our overall team speed (especially on offense) killed us.
Defensively, I felt ok. No blocks, but I created several high stalls (some of them leading to turnovers) due to good non-fouling marking, and I remember preventing some cuts. There were two long passes thrown to my man and caught on the first day, but none after that despite playing some HnH teams who got the disc plenty of times when I was on the field. There were a few passes over the weekend where my guy beat me right away on an in-cut so I just ambled in after him. Maybe it's a little lazy, but there is no practical difference (given that I'm not going to administer a bump as soon as he catches it even though the kids today seem to think it's cool) since I'm not going to be able to catch up anyway and I was there by the time he caught it and turned and the force didn't change.
I played a little more than I expected and probably about as much as I deserved, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. Forch played well offensively except for a bunch of forced hucks, but otherwise I didn't feel anyone on the O stood out as playing well.
I had two points that stood out for me. One was against Furious on the first point of the game. Pitted against a defender that apparently everyone on Furious knows I can't stand playing against because of his hands and bumpiness, I was determined to show him, but I established that I wasn't going to be intimidated, got open for four or five passes with the force, and scored the goal. The other point was an upwinder against Rhino. I was called as the third handler, and got open on several resets and quickly got the disc moving again, leading to a big goal.
Overall, I was somewhat disappointed in the amount of contact and petty calls. In order, among the teams I played with and against, I would rank them Furious, Sockeye, Revolver, us, Rhino, the others. 3 of the 4 NW teams outcalled/outfouled us despite us being a little chippy ourselves. I didn't watch either semi (beer tent was too far from the fields), so I can't comment on them.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Nationals Q&A
Any questions? I'll blog in more detail in a few days, but if you have questions, fire away.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Once more unto the breach
1989. 2006. Missed 1991, as we made some mistakes and lost out to Graffiti. This is my 17th Nationals, and about the 12th or 13th where I went in somewhat planning to win the title. And last. If you don't count Masters.
Last practice of the season was today, possibly ever. After, we hung around and made fun of ourselves and joked and had a good time. I couldn't run down one long pass because my hamstrings were sore from 58 sprints on Tuesday's workouts. "If I were 39," I said, but I could still have had it at 41, or not had it at 39, depending on how I felt. That's a problem not frequently mentioned with age, that every day is not the same. You hear old people talk about some days being better than others, but it's true. Some days I feel 39, or 35, or 30, or 25, or whatever, if only for the times I'm playing. Recovery is always a problem, but the doing, well, that goes well sometimes. Luckily, I know more than any of you about how to get open, and I'm lucky genetically that I haven't fallen off the cliff yet due to advancing years, although I can see the cliff just in front of me (actually, it's been a gradual downslope mostly, too subtle to recognize while you're on it but when you're at the end, you say, "Huh"). I still have to make adjustments in my head as to what I can handle over the course of a weekend, but let's hope I can do it.
Once more. 17 years ago, attending my first Nationals, I was really just happy to be there, and had no idea what to expect from future years. Since then, I've had some good years, and some disappointing years, and while you'd think I might know what to expect, still it's a surprise when it happens. Others speak more eloquently about it, but seeing the dew-laden fields first thing on Thursday is chilling. So much ahead of you, so much having happened over the past few months and years, you hate the guys you've been playing against and now they're your teammates again, and the RRIs and seedings and blog entries are no longer just fun hypotheticals but they're people in different colored shirts who just want to kick your ass (possibly a little extra because you called them out). I can still do it, I tell myself, and yes, sometimes I still do it. The disc doesn't care if you're 41 or 21, and neither do I.
I'll still kick your ass, kid.
And good luck.
Last practice of the season was today, possibly ever. After, we hung around and made fun of ourselves and joked and had a good time. I couldn't run down one long pass because my hamstrings were sore from 58 sprints on Tuesday's workouts. "If I were 39," I said, but I could still have had it at 41, or not had it at 39, depending on how I felt. That's a problem not frequently mentioned with age, that every day is not the same. You hear old people talk about some days being better than others, but it's true. Some days I feel 39, or 35, or 30, or 25, or whatever, if only for the times I'm playing. Recovery is always a problem, but the doing, well, that goes well sometimes. Luckily, I know more than any of you about how to get open, and I'm lucky genetically that I haven't fallen off the cliff yet due to advancing years, although I can see the cliff just in front of me (actually, it's been a gradual downslope mostly, too subtle to recognize while you're on it but when you're at the end, you say, "Huh"). I still have to make adjustments in my head as to what I can handle over the course of a weekend, but let's hope I can do it.
Once more. 17 years ago, attending my first Nationals, I was really just happy to be there, and had no idea what to expect from future years. Since then, I've had some good years, and some disappointing years, and while you'd think I might know what to expect, still it's a surprise when it happens. Others speak more eloquently about it, but seeing the dew-laden fields first thing on Thursday is chilling. So much ahead of you, so much having happened over the past few months and years, you hate the guys you've been playing against and now they're your teammates again, and the RRIs and seedings and blog entries are no longer just fun hypotheticals but they're people in different colored shirts who just want to kick your ass (possibly a little extra because you called them out). I can still do it, I tell myself, and yes, sometimes I still do it. The disc doesn't care if you're 41 or 21, and neither do I.
I'll still kick your ass, kid.
And good luck.
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