Y’all, next time I get another crazy idea like this, remind me not to go on grand trips whilst poor, especially not if they’re ultimate-related. I’m not kidding. They’re bad for my health, unfriendly to my checking account, and generally detrimental to my emotional/mental stability.
The trip started hilariously enough, with EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO GOT ON THE BLUE LINE OPTING NOT TO SIT NEXT TO ME. First off, I know my suitcase wasn’t in anybody’s way; it was between my legs and my backpack was on my lap. Then I thought, “Oh, the train’s not that crowded, maybe they just don’t want to be that awkward person who sits next to someone when there are other seats/places to stand.” But then the train started to get crowded around Jackson and STILL no one sat next to me. I mean, the train was packed, save the seat next to me. I wondered if it was because I was that smelly person on the train, because I know I was wearing a pretty thick sweater in late May, so I gave myself a super subtle, basically imperceptible whiff, but sweat wasn’t the case. Then I realized that it was probably because I was dressed like an institutionalized toddler (and I did not look hot or smart, nor did I feel like Michelle Obama), whispering to myself/violently, erratically twitching (okay, you try listening to Michael Jackson and not mouthing/dancing along), and smelling myself on the train. So. *foghorn*
Cut to the airport. Probably one of my favorite places to be in the whole entire world, what with all the times I’ve cried/sobbed or received bad news in one of them. Anyway, I get to my gate and there’s a huge line and general chaos. I hear from some Chatty Cathies that there have been delays and cancellations to Denver all day. No bueno. The Denver flight crew finally gets to the gate and starts getting to click-clackin’ on the computers, making stank faces, and generally crushing hopes and dreams. When I left my house, I knew that I was fourth on the priority list. When the standby list went up on the monitor, I was down to 23. I was the last person on the list, womp womp. I had already missed all the Friday games (I was flying out on a Friday eve), and if I missed this flight I’d have to fly in on Saturday, probably causing me to miss all the Saturday games too, so I wasn’t sure if it’d still be worth it for me to try and fly out. I was beginning to be okay with an entire Memorial Day weekend spent doing the most patriotic things I could think of — eating a lot and having a “Harry Potter” movie marathon — and it seemed more and more likely that that would be so, as the priority list was barely budging and we were drawing closer to takeoff.
I was still 16 on the priority list as the gate started emptying out, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to get on the flight. I decided that I’d stay until the plane pulled away though, just so that I’d know that I saw it with my own eyes. Just as my parents called and told me to just start heading home, they called my name (along with like nine others). I thought they were just gonna tell us that they we wouldn’t be able to get on and they were bumping us down to the next flight tomorrow morning, but they handed me a ticket and shut the door behind me. Um. What?
I mean, who lucks out like that? Anyway, everything was fine until about thirty minutes out of Denver. I was editing some photos and my Macbook legit bounced on the tray table, and we began experiencing hell of turbulence (and I know I wasn’t exaggerating it, as I am wont to do, thanks irrational fear of flying). Ya girl started tripping, and it didn’t help that it was just like in the movies: the aforementioned Macbook bounce, my ginger ale practically spilling out of its cup, things shifting in flight. And then effing Gaga was all “I’m on the edge of something final we call life tonight” and I was like “THIS IS THE END. THIS IS TOTALLY A SONG THAT A PERSON COULD DIE TO” and I ripped off my headphones and started to apologize to God for making fun of the rapture and for the entire summer of ’09 and how I got free Jamba Juice all summer as a result of deceit, using the golf cart to “return library books”, and abusing my rampant sexual appeal (*foghorn*). PTL, we landed safely and I only wet my pants a little.
I checked the arrivals board and saw that Margaret’s flight wasn’t going to be in for another 2.5 hours, leaving me a whole lot of time to do my thang at Denver International. I’ll list the thangs, to save time: change back into my farmer clothes; cough on all the cookies at McDonald’s; creep on an adorable halvsies toddler; pay $11 for a $5 box of Nyquil, which: girl, please; and parking myself at the charging station to charge every electronic item in my possession (with this creepy Asian couple reading my blog over my shoulder).
And then, the best part of the whole entire evening: I was sitting at the charging station, minding my own business (and jamming out to Nikki Minaj because all the flights had left for the night and no one was in the terminal and I was sure no one could see/hear me), when I heard a ruckus behind me. I looked up and saw two cops on bikes escorting a woman towards a gate to my left. I turned Nicki down and tried to act inconspicuous as they walked past me. I heard her saying that she “understood procedure” but she didn’t understand why someone who wasn’t “causing a scene” (was it Sarah?) should get kicked off the plane. And then I realized that old girl was GETTING ARRESTED. WHAT. One cop stayed behind as a lookout and the other escorted her to some seats at the gate. About a million different things started running through my mind, like why did she get kicked off the plane and why was she causing a scene and did this cop chase her on his bicycle? So the cop sits her down and walks back over to Officer Lookout to confer a bit. I hear them mumbling and whispering, talking about how they didn’t feel guilty kicking her off the flight and she didn’t even have a boarding pass anyway (which, HOW DID SHE GET ON THEN?). As they’re talking, I notice that the woman has gotten up from her seat and has started to walk towards the cops and I’m practically all the way turned around waiting for her ass to get tazed, but she walks up talking about how she lost her phone and she wants to use a credit card to jump on a pay phone and at that point the cops notice I’m staring so I swivel back around and act busy. I wanted to get out of there because cops make me feel uneasy, so I went to the bathroom. On my way out, the cops and the woman were having a full-on argument about how her dad is a pilot and the cops were all if your dad is a pilot he’d be the first one to tell you that you can’t fly on a plane while intoxicated and she was all yeah I’m drunk but I’m not being disorderly or causing a scene and they were all okay irregardless, ex-boyfriends are just off-limits to friends! And I looked over at her and homegirl was looking crazed! The drama was just delicious! I wish I could tell you how it all shook down, but at that point Margaret’s flight was pulling in. Needless to say, it was hilarious and amazing and totally surreal.
Anyway, onto the ultimate, which is probably what you came for. Unforch, as mentioned, I didn’t get to watch too many games, having missed both Friday and Monday. I would say the teams I saw the most of were Northwestern, UCSB, and UNC (a minimum of two games each).
Something I really enjoy about Northwestern’s handlers, Lien Hoffman and Sara Miller in particular, is that they’re just really, really calm, bordering on stoic. Obviously, I only saw them play in two games so I might be totally off-base here, but it seemed like they generally didn’t allow a big play or a big turn to change their disposition. I like that (especially since I can’t seem to control my emotions), and I liked watching them work. Northwestern #14 was also fun to watch, and I think we sat next to her family or something cause they got hype every time she caught something and it was adorable. (You would think I would remember her name, though. Fail.) Northwestern #89 was a problem. I saw her catch so many discs with nary a defender in sight, both for huge unders and in the endzone.
Leila Tunnell. Just … wow. I hadn’t seen her play extensively before (Only watched one UNC game at Nationals last year, vs. Cal and I was watching Cree Howard) and T-Bagels was a one-woman hype machine, so I was expecting big things and I wasn’t disappointed. To quote the Bag, her pulls were “epic”. Honestly. Basically every single one of her pulls left you shaking your head. Then she would throw one that was about eighteen times better than any pull I could ever dream of attempting, and T-Bag would say, “That one wasn’t that good.” And her backhand. I mean WHAT. Not to slight her forehands or anything, because those were dope too, but that backhand was just ridiculous. Count me in on The Leila Tunnell Fan Club.
(Also, their freshman #22 was really good, too.)
Color me endlessly impressed that UCSB has been to the Finals five years in a row. I mean, just unbelievable. Is there another player in college ultimate who has a resume like Finney’s? Five finals in five years, with two National Championships. What? I wish I had been there to see the final. I followed Skyd’s live blog, and it sounds like she just dominated that game. Her stat line was freaking incredible. I like watching her play because she’s everywhere. If there’s a big play, you know that she’s involved in it in some way. And I like that she’s freaking fearless. I don’t know if she feels the same way, or if it’s real, but watching her play I sometimes feel like there’s nothing she can’t do on the field because of her fearlessness and her tenacity and determination. She’s very fun to watch. And how entertaining was Marie Madaras in that semifinal against Stanford? Just athletic layout grab after athletic layout grab. She’s another one of those big play players. She’s like excitement in human form. That doesn’t really sound right but I don’t have any other way to describe it. You just know that she’s a big play waiting to happen. Maybe that’s a better way to phrase it. But anyway, HUGE props to the Skirts.
Unassociated Ultimate Thoughts
- I was noting this with T-Bag during the Wilmington/Ottawa game: Maybe an unexpected ingredient for what makes your team good (and also exciting to watch) is a little bit of recklessness. I don’t mean like the “eat a whole bottle of Flintstones vitamins cause they’re delicious” kind of reckless, I mean the no-second-thoughts kind of recklessness. Sometimes you watch them and you think that they don’t possess those three seconds of hesitation where you see a small opening or a sliver of an open lane and you go, “Should I throw this?” I feel like they just do it. In their game against Ottawa, we saw one Wilmington score that was thrown over and between two defenders in the endzone to a wide-open Seaweed receiver. It was like the D didn’t even know it was going to come, but if someone had yelled at them either of them could have raised their arms and knocked the disc down. But it seemed like that thought never occurred to the Seaweed thrower. And the receiver didn’t even have to make an effort to catch it. It’s hell of cool. I’ve also learned that people from Wilmington are a. good at ultimate and b. have a super interesting/laid back cadence. I liked it.
- Stanford #6 was pretty good, but possibly my favorite thing about #6 was her little brother (maybe?)! Every single time Stanford scored he would run down from the hill and start doing cartwheels and roundoffs. It was THE BEST. Best cheerleader on the weekend.
- Anne Mercier did a great Greg Jennings impersonation.
- I wish that I had been able to attend all four days of competition — after feeling so disconnected from college ultimate for so long, there were so many players and teams I wanted to see in person and I didn’t get the chance to, for one reason or the other. For example, my biggest fan girl-disappointment on the entire weekend is that I didn’t get to see Oregon play. I saw bits and pieces of their game with Ottawa, but they didn’t quite look like the Fugue I remembered from Madison. I wish I could have seen Sophie Darch, who I’ve heard a lot about.
There were a whole bunch of teams and players I had hoped to see but didn’t get the chance to, including the homie Robyn Fennig and Iowa. I had wanted to watch more of Stanford and had planned to watch their game against WashU, but Northwestern was making the Gung Ho/Skirts game impossible to leave, so I didn’t see Superfly until semis. I wish I could have seen more of Iowa State and Colorado College, two teams that were ranked pretty low going into the weekend and ended up having great finishes. I love stories and teams like that, and wish I had been able to see more, specifically Colorado College’s win over Wilmington. I wish I could have seen Michigan play. Apparently they were missing a key player for much of the weekend, and you gotta wonder how that affected their game, but it seems like they did pretty great anyway. Way to put on for Great Lakes Great Times, Flywheel.
- I felt that there was so much more parity this year, in that I couldn’t identify a “favorite”. I felt that unlike recent years there were so many more teams that could have convincingly played their way into the title game. Sure, we got a relatively familiar-looking final four (Oregon, UCSB, and Stanford with Michigan as the new-comer), but it just seemed a whole lot more competitive than years past. Maybe it wasn’t that way for realsies, but I got that sense from the few games I watched.
In case you are wondering, the flight back was decidedly less horrifying, although equally stressful. First off, inclement weather in Chicago was threatening my flights, so I had to leave earlier than expected. And then I had to worry about how I was gonna get to the airport, and Super Shuttle straight clowned my ass. First, I was verbally harassed by BOTH operators I talked to. Second, it was going to cost me thirty two cot dang dollars for the always vomit-inducing ride, and I wasn’t looking forward to any of that. And then finally, straw that broke the camel’s back: Like twenty minutes after I make the ride reservation I get a call from them talking about, “Oh just kidding, we don’t have a van for you, NEVER THE MINDZ. Find another way to get to the airport.” WHAT. NEVER AGAIN.
Unassociated Non-Ultimate Thoughts
- I was so inspired by the great players and throws I saw at Nationals that on Monday afternoon, I drove to an open field with the babybro, waited for winds to pick up, and practiced my upwind and crosswind throws. First, let me just say: yikes. Second: I didn’t know one person could be so bad. Third, we spent more time fetching discs than we did throwing them. Seeing the disparity between my throws and the throws I was treated to all weekend really made me wanna work! …
But then I just got really hungry and thought about eating at about eighteen different restaurants. Womp womp.
- I saw “Bridesmaids” and like I texted to Margaret: Um, what? My life? Anyway, it made me realize that not everyone knows who Wilson Phillips is and that’s a dang shame. As I was explaining to my babybro that it was these three dope females who were basically the less interesting, white TLC/Destiny’s Child and whose parents were in The Beach Boys and The Mamas & the Papas, I was flashing back so hard to their epic music video on some snow-capped mountain but none of them were dressed for climbing/hiking or any other sort of arduous physical activity but then all of a sudden they are on a beach and Chynna Phillips is wearing this amazing vest, and Carnie Wilson is hiding her sweet Canadian tuxedo underneath a trench coat (which, if I may ask: why?) and her sister Wendy is there too and she is a ginger. God, that video went hard. Actually, I think I feel pretty comfortable making the general statement that most videos made before 2000 went super hard in the paint. I miss them.
- I saw straight up romance blossom when two people met each other in line at ORD while we waited for the Denver flight crew to show up. They were chatting it up and awkward touching and the whole nine and I was mad vomiting in my mouth. Worst game I have ever heard in my whole entire life. Just… why. I won’t repeat any of the heinous things I heard, but I don’t know how any human being could be turned on or even remotely intrigued by anything any of these people were saying. Anyway, they spent the entire time chatting and even made a trip to the food court together for some coffee. It was almost like a real first date. And then the woman got a seat on the flight but the guy didn’t so they said their goodbyes and they were straight getting their sloppy, sloppy mack on right at the bridge door! Ish was shameless! Girlfriend was sort of a hot mess, and part of me was like “Get it, girl!” and the other part of me was like “Why.” All in all, it was gross and I wondered why I always get the privilege to be witness to all these great, whirlwind romances.
- If you are thinking of e-mailing me the trailer for Ben Gibbard’s wife’s new TV show with the message “Hey this reminds me of you!” — DON’T. I’m not kidding. I don’t want to hear it, and I ESPECIALLY don’t want to hear it from my mother. How awkward.
- I think having the team name on the clavicle-area of the jersey is super dope. I don’t actually know what the design on the jersey is, but I think I would still wear the shit out of this jersey.
- Farmer’s Tan — this is the beginning of something beautiful.
So per usual, my trips are never without some sort of ridiculousness. All in all though, it was awesome to be in beautiful Boulder, and it was just really good to see old friends, ‘specially sharing a bed/coughing with my dudes Margaret and T-Bag, or It’s Not Gay If It’s In a Three Way (although I guess if it doesn’t include a member of the opposite sex, it might in fact be gay). It made me very nostalgic for Nationals 2009 (I feel a post coming on), and for my friends and human interaction in general. Cause 思念是一种病, y’all, and I don’t like it one bit. Even though the travel was stressful and now I’m peeling and my lips are a gross chocolate brown, it was another good weekend spent at another wonderfully run tournament. Just wish the whole experience could have lasted longer.
Anyway, there were a few more things I wanted to add to this post, but I’ll add them if I can remember them to my next post, when I revisit the 11 things I said I was looking forward to this college season. Check me out, y’all. Making references to relevant previous posts. Good look, right?
