Darken your world

I will start this post with a warning. If you were on this team, and I doubt anyone not on this team is reading this besides Luke, you may want to stop reading now. It could dredge up horrendous memories.

The year is 1996. We are coming off our inspiring win at Chicago's Tune Up. Double Happiness is truly feeling like this could finally be the year that the UPA Championship comes home to the Bay Area for the first time since the 80's.

What we weren't really considering is that this was truly a different team from 1995. We had lost a ton of talent in the offseason (Dilly, Dave Smith, Barkan, etc.), and replaced them with talented but green members of Joe, the #2 Bay Area team. While our youth and enthusiasm had arguably increased, our talent level had clearly decreased.

Nonetheless we entered the Fall Series feeling great about ourselves. Beating Boston at Tune Up just confirmed this feeling. We also had lots of opportunities to play and defeat the #2 team in the Section, Saucy Jack.

Saucy was comprised mostly of Stanford Alumni, spearheaded by Truth and Jim Schoettler. They also featured some amazing talent in Andy Crews, Dennis Karlinsky and Jacob Sider.

We hadn't had much trouble with them up throughout the season. We beat them in a close game at Sectionals, which in hindsight should have signaled trouble. But at the time I think we just felt like we were toying with them.

For some insane reason, the UPA decided to hold both the SW and NW Fall Regionals in 1996 in the lovely city of Las Vegas. This could make some sense for the SW, but for the NW it was not even in their region, and meant that teams from Seattle and Vancouver had a particularly long trip to make. This seems like a classic example of "good idea at the time", that in retrospect makes no sense at all.

Why, you ask? Well, it was 104 degrees on that Saturday and Sunday in Vegas. The fields were hard, and there were VERY few options for shade. This is pretty far from ideal conditions for any sport, let alone one that entails the amount of running in Ultimate.

That is not to mention the massive downside for a "party focused" team like Double. Our goal had consistently been to "win the party AND win the tourney". Well in Vegas the party never, ever, stops. And while I would say we actually were pretty good about not going crazy, combine it with 104 degree heat and it is not a good combo.

Saturday we were relegated to a field site away from the main fields. This was a good break, as I would argue it helped us focus on the task at hand away from any distractions. The year before, while playing for Joe, some of our teammates had actually been arrested and spent the night in a WA jail. Their offense? They had been knocked out of regionals that day earlier then expected. They had gotten completely blasted drunk that evening. And then on their way home happened upon a pumpkin display early in the AM at a local supermarket. They seemed to think it was a great idea to smash said pumpkins on the ground. Needless to say police arrived shortly thereafter.

Why do I digress? During our first huddle of the weekend prior to our first game, I came running into the huddle with a pumpkin and smashed it on the ground. The intent was to loosen up the "new guys", and make them feel welcome. It helped, as everyone had a good laugh with it.

We essentially cruised through the first day, buoyed with confidence. I don't recall who we played, or any of the scores, but I remember it feeling like a formality that we would win our pool and focus on Sunday morning.

Saturday night we actually were pretty mellow. There were to be no excuses at this point, and I think most of us were pretty spent from the day out in the heat.

The next morning started well. We beat Saucy in the semifinals 13-9. It wasn't that close. It really felt like Sectionals was just toying with them, and that we were well on our way. Our biggest regional rival, Seattle's Sockeye, awaited us in the final, with the winner getting a spot at nationals, and the loser having to fight through another game to receive the second bid.

As usual our game against Sockeye was very close. Both teams were fairly even in talent, and every game seemed to come down to 1 or 2 plays at the end. This one did as well.

Over the course of the season we had noticed an interesting development with Sockeye. At the end of "next point wins" games, Jon G had developed a strange habit of yanking ill-advised forehands the length of the field. I don't have an explanation for it. Maybe hero-complex? But what I do know is we had seen it happen 3-4 times over the course of the 1996 season.

So when the game was tied at 16, next point wins and Sockeye receiving the pull, I think you know what we were expecting. And he didn't disappoint, taking the first pass off the pull and chucking it deep. His receiver, unfortunately, had turned to cut back in and was now forced to course-correct. He tripped over his own feet, and feel into Tom Glass who was going up to knock the errant pass down.

What ensued after this is exactly the thing that I hate about ultimate. You spend your whole year ruining your life to fit this game in. For no reason other than pride. We had a "joke" on double that everyone broke up with their girlfriend each fall and had to find another one. The sad thing is this was mostly true. You are away every weekend. You are at the track 3 nights during the week. Just to prepare yourself for this one moment on a hot October day in Las Vegas.

And then someone calls a foul on an errant pass as he falls into the defender. Could it have really been a foul and I am just conditioned to think otherwise, even more so as the years go on? Possibly. Is there any way if it was a foul that at the time I would have thought so? Probably not. But I saw what I saw, and what I saw from my perspective was about as far from a foul on Tom as I have ever seen. And what is our recourse? To contest the foul, and basically reward Sockeye with an additional possession for their efforts. Which they took advantage of, winning Regionals and locking up their spot to Nationals.

I have honestly never had such a deflating moment in my ultimate career, either before 1996 or since. And this sentiment was definitely the majority viewpoint at that time, on those fields. We had about an hour wait before the "backdoor" game, and as I looked down on our team trying to get some shade, some fluids and some food, I realized right then we were in big trouble. The body language told the whole story.

Also, we were losing people to heat-related issues left and right. I am sure every team was, but I was only privy to our issues. During the first half of the final I turned to call Weber in the game. He wasn't on the sidelines. When I eventually found him, after the point had started, he was under the tent desperately trying to drink water and get some semblance of his head together.

As we were warming up for the finals, I was trying to find Woody. Couldn't find him anywhere. I eventually looked over to the field next to ours, and Woody was sitting indian-style in the middle of an empty field staring at the ground. When I went over to talk to him, it was like finding a person who had run out of water in the middle of the Sahara. I think he thought I was an oasis.

Then came the moment that will live in infamy. Saucy Jack was now determined to be our opponent to earn the last bid at Nationals. As we were warming up, I took a look 3-4 fields over, and saw the ladies of the Bay Area team Homebrood celebrating their huge upset surprise to earn a spot at Nationals in the women's division. The team they beat? Women on the Verge from Seattle who also had won the Chicago Tune Up. Ruh roh raggie. The sun was setting, both literally and symbolically.

The game was, honestly, never close. We fell behind 5-2 early on. On one of those points Cribber, arguably one of the best players ever to play the game but hobbled by a bad hamstring, had not been able to chase down a pass that lead to a turnover by our own end zone. This was a bad sign, and our captains then told me to sit him for the remainder of the game because of the injury. Only they never told Cribber, so he spent every point glaring at me from the sideline as I didn't call him in to play.

Late in the game I was in on defense. We were down 2. I made one of the best plays I have ever made, a full layout diving block that I really felt would get our team energized. Especially after I then caught the goal as well and roared back for a big spike.

Well, it was not to be. We continued to fade, not being able to cover the quick cuts of Andy Crews and Karlinsky, and not being able to contain the Truth to Jim bombs. It was a game straight out of our nightmares.

Saucy played well. I have to give them a ton of credit. All of the weather, all the partying, they are all excuses. There is no excuse for being outplayed by a team you have never lost to in a game you had to win. And we were.

This was followed by something that everyone who has played Elite Ultimate has always experienced at some point in their career. The Sulk Circle. Every team who plays the Fall Series with expectations to have a chance to win experiences this unless they actually win their last game. Everyone stands around, staring at the ground, wondering what went wrong.

During this somber event, two things happened which I will never forget. The guy I had gotten the block off of came up behind me and whispered to me, "Flash, I never thought you deserved to be on this team. But you proved me wrong today, great game." Kind of a backhanded compliment, along the lines of Cribber telling Tom "You get the most out of the least talent of anyone I have ever seen". And his timing was bad. But with some time to have the wounds heal, it was a pretty classy gesture.

This other part, not so much. We had abused the Saucy guys a bit during the season, kind of in a bully big brother sort of way. And apparently it sat worse with some than others. As we sat in our huddle, one of their players came running up, spiked a disc right in the middle of us and yelled at the top of his lungs "HOW DOES IT FEEL?!?!?!?" Hmm, the answer to that would be not so good.

We sat there for a while. Some people tried to say stuff, but there is nothing you can really say in those moments. And then we all got our stuff and made our way out to our cars.

As we were walking, I happened to be next to Scott Lip on the way out. He turned to me and said "You don't want to be around me tonight, Flash, I am going to darken your world." That's cool, Scott. Be safe! He was found by Kerry Karter and his wife later that evening in the beer aisle of a local supermarket spiking cans of beer on the linoleum floor.

We got some dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe. And then headed in to their casino and did a bit of gambling. It was hard to get into the prospect of adding to the misery by losing money, though, so most of us were not into it. Hoover was hammered, and at one point Jeffy (who can play craps no matter what mood he is in) told me to keep Hoov away from him.

We decided to head to a strip club across the street from the Hard Rock. We ditched Hoover, not telling him where we were going. Later when Hoov went to bug Jeffy at the crap tables, Jeffy threw us under the bus and told him to check Club Paradise across the street.

Now, I will not violate the "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" code, but there are two stories worth mentioning.

We were sitting in the first row next to the main stage in this club. There were 5-6 of us. Early on in our time there one of the strippers actually stopped her routine and said "What is wrong with you guys?" None of us had noticed, but I guess we had some of the worst hangdog looks on our faces that you have ever seen.

The second story is a little different. One of our teammates had never been in a strip club. The look of sheer joy in his eyes during the whole episode was a pleasure to behold. It actually helped snap us out of our funk somewhat, as did a couple of things Hoover may or may not have said to the dancers. Whoops, I seem to be leaking over that line. Have to remember, what happens in Vegas...