I find it hilarious that the one time I came to Blogger to write an ultimate post on my ultimate blog, Blogger was down (pretty much all of Thursday). I think it’s the universe trying to tell me something…
But in all seriousness, I’ve been catching up on my reading (you’re talking to a person who has issues of Time magazine from as far back as November ’09 that are still waiting to be read *facepalm*), and I gotta say that I really dig Ultimate’s featured note on The ‘Book, “The Baron’s 300”. I appreciate his name (Snoopy ain’t got ish on you, dawg!), I like that he signs his posts “The Baron” with a capital ‘T’ (like the way I address and refer to my friend The Captain), I like his posts even when I sometimes don’t understand them (read: “A Portrait…”), I appreciate his candor, and I like the idea of keeping the pieces to 300 words or less, an idea I should clearly utilize when crafting my own long-winded, rambling posts (yikes). In any case, a few of my thoughts on some of the great topics he’s written on (and if you’re wondering, I allowed myself 500 words, because I’m hell of verbose and I’m fancy like that. What, you mad?):
The Importance of Being Earnest
I don’t really have an additional 500 words to add to this piece, I just wanted to say “word” to The Baron. Preach. Those situations are HELL OF uncomfortable, sometimes just straight up awkward for all involved parties. I don’t know what it’s like to give criticism, but man, it’s difficult to receive criticism without getting defensive. It’s so hard to repress that urge to fight back and defend your shortcomings or faults (see: me and my “forehand”). Sometimes you need to start with the (wo)man in the mirror, but getting that push and that support to make those changes is stupid hard. I mean, different players take criticism differently. Coaches need to learn so many different approaches. Some players want to have their buttons pushed, some need more gentle guidance, some “like” getting yelled at, some want calm discussion, etc. etc. Mad love and respect for what you do, coaches.
Cathy: “Girl, there are soooo many things you need to work on before I let you play in games! Paramount among them, don’t get skied by people who are legitimately a foot shorter than you mere seconds after you tell me that you know you suck but you won’t let me down if I put you in!”
Me: “Suck a chubby, Cathy Chu! I already told you. I’m from WHEATON. I don’t run cross country backwards, okay?! My ex-Division I cross country teammate (I’m no longer on the team because Angela Bizzarri couldn’t keep up with me) Stephanie gave me these Texas shorts, not my mom. I’m that fast because I eat Sour Punch Straws for breakfast, and no, I did not know there was a hole in the back of my formal dress because I was too wasted before midnight. I’m sorry I’m not sorry I’m obsessed with my roommate Kelly Payne, okay?” *muppet voice*
(That exchange may or may not have been real.)
The Ol’ College Try
I honestly can’t think about college without thinking about my college ultimate experience, and I can’t think about that without a mixture of big lols and tears.
There was a closeness, an intimacy, about my college ultimate experience that I can’t quite describe, and I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to replicate. Like The Baron said, we played together, we practiced together, we lifted together, we ran together, we “ride or die”-ed together, we partied together, and some of us even lived together. For some of us, it wasn’t about growing together every week or every practice, it was about growing together every day. The best things we ever did weren’t always the biggest or the most remarkable. My favorite memories of college are the ones where I was doing nothing at all. Late night conversations. Tuesday night dinners at Zorba’s (before it burnt down, womp womp) and sometimes Firehaus. Team Asia “Study Sessions” at McKinley Foundation with Derek. Themed red pin bowling. Road trip antics. Sleeping in Mary’s bed, giggling and texting Murrles with T-Bag, listening to Kathleen Wilhoite (if memory serves). Throwing in a Columbus Meijer’s parking lot for HOURS because Jen locked her keys in the car. Awkwardly shooting Fozz for my Writing With Video class before we became part-time lovers (awk/unforch). Silent videochatting at UGL with Sarah, sitting at the same table, right across from each other. Photobooth-ing with Margaret in public places. The list is endless, honestly.
It was a special bond because we did something incredible on the field together, but we did each other some incredible services off the field as well – we helped each other grow as people. I’ve never had an older sister to look up to, but in college I had a whole team of big sisters. Big sisters to tease me about being a loser, to teach me lessons I needed to learn, to warn me about pitfalls I might encounter, to give me words of wisdom when I was hurting, to give me a shoulder to cry on when I needed it, to just goof off with.
I don’t know how to explain it, I really don’t. There’s something special about chasing after something that has an expiration date on it – four to five years and you can never again work for a college championship. Eventually you all graduate. Eventually you all run out of eligibility. Eventually you all move away. But before that happens, you make this wonderful, scary, huge, exciting commitment to each other to get better individually and as a team so you can make Nationals and win championships, and I know I don’t swear anymore, but it’s just G-D beautiful.
Each year of my college ultimate experience was unique, special, and memorable in its own way. My teammates were all … characters. Just hilarious, loud, good-hearted people. I’m endlessly grateful for the people I’ve met, and for those who have become family. I’ll never take for granted how special that entire experience was.
College Nationals 2009. You would not be able to tell from this picture that we just got beat by Santa Barbara 15-4 (15-3? Can’t remember.). We look dang near like some World Champions in this photo.
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Fozz. Watch out.
Cutoff Bowling for Red Pin night. I actually dress like that in real life, stud belt and all, dead ass. Please note that this was also in January or February, probably.
HERRO PREASE WANNA PRAY FRISBEE.
Hey Chan, remember that time you missed Tuesday Night McKinley “because Tila was on”? Good one.
The writing of our senior theses was secondary to taking hilarious photos of ourselves at 4am at UGL. Sorry ’bout it.
SB2K9 Party Van. I miss you all so much, it’s not even okay. Best. Spring Break. Of my life. 
Remember when we defiled The Bean for every tourist in the city of Chicago that eve? Because great friends will do that with you right before they leave for lawl school.
Also remember when you spent the entirety of your plane ride from SFO to Phoenix crying, and then you cried for the entirety of your four hour layover, and then you cried from Phoenix to ORD, and then you and Margaret drove from Chicago to Michigan right away and slept in the car for like 5 minutes before playing all day Saturday (during which time you thought about crying), and then after the games you cried in the shower and then went in your car and cried some more, but then your amazing teammates surprised you with cupcakes and a birthday serenade in your car (and then you and Murrles? T-Bag? Can’t remember — had a cupcake shoving in mouth contest?)? Amazing.
“Let’s tell secrets!” -Mary
“Mary, I’m going to pee in your sleeping bag.” -Me
Career Defining Games
I don’t know that I have career defining games so much as I have career defining tournaments, legit, so this list is a little difficult to make.
Of course, the very first game that came to mind was our backdoor final at Regionals in ’09, against Ohio State. We had just lost a relatively close final to Michigan (relative to our usual Michigan beat downs), but we weren’t down or disappointed. We were surprisingly very focused and very calm, just ready to meet our next challenge. We started on offense and OSU threw a cup. I only remember Kelly Foster on that line with me, because she’s the only person I threw to. We must have swung that disc about 50 times, slowly working up the field until we calmly punched it in. We reeled off two straight breaks with relative ease, and that’s when I just knew. I didn’t even know we were at gamepoint until I was called out of the game and slowly realized that Meg was calling all the seniors on. I have no words to describe the elation that followed.
(Following this HELL OF triumphant pose, Kelly Foster — who is out of the frame — and I point at each other for a while, and then I jump into her arms.)
A very personal game for me was the semifinal of the Hong Kong Pan Asian Tournament in ’08 against Sunken Pleasure, when I played with Shanghai. I worked my tail off to make the team, and I was told I’d get sparse minutes. Unfortunately, one of our main women missed her flight and another got injured. All of a sudden the women were getting worked. Jon came up to me at one point on Saturday and said to me, “I need you to step up now”, and that was huge, coming from a player I respect so much. That semifinal was the first game since the backdoor final against Michigan State in ’08 where I felt fully invested. It reignited my fire, and I went hard. We didn’t win, but I’ll never forget how hard we fought and how much I learned about myself that game.
Finally, before I start to push up on that 500 limit, I’ll never forget Sunday of Pres Day ’09, specifically our game against Texas. We had played horrendously on Saturday, losing every game, but someway, somehow, everything started to click for us on Sunday. It was a close, hard-fought, fun game (I got pantsed. *foghorn* What?), and in the end, we didn’t even know we had won until Goose quietly said so. We weren’t paying attention to the score, but to how we were playing and how we were responding to the other team’s challenges. It’s such a rewarding feeling for the team when things start to come together for everyone. There’s a picture of us at halftime, and it’s probably one of my favorite photos of all time. It says everything about that game better than I could describe it myself:
That was fun. I need more writing exercises that result in non-mopey, non-emo, non-angry, non-horrible, non-firstworldproblems kinds of posts.
