Just back from attending the WFDF World Ultimate Club Champs in Perth with Kiwi masters team Tuatara. Great international tournament, and a great time was had training and playing with the Kiwi squad. The 5 Kiwi teams stuck together, supporting each other on the sidelines, partied together, etc.
Training for the tournament was a challenge with just five people from Dunedin attending the tournament. We trained regularly through the winter in the dark, playing indoors occasionally, running on the track, but not getting any game time. Exceptions were the three training camps in Wellington which were really good for getting to know teammates as well as the rest of the Kiwi squad. Tom, Mark, Carly and Ali have been great training companions in Dunedin. Getting to sunny Perth was great as the anticipation was over, and the niggling injuries melted away in the warmth. Of course they had to be replaced by a few hard knocks, one a scary a head-to-head collision that makes me now appreciate having motor control over my extremities.
Tuatara
brought a small squad with remarkable teamwork and superb tactics, and finished in fifth place, just out of the semis. At the end, l had learned a new style of ultimate. In contrast to a typical N. American offense, we played a patient game to use our numbers effectively and to make best use of the two outstanding throwers Tuatara boasts. In essence the philosophical shift is from a cutter-dominated offense to a thrower's offense. For example, as an isolated receiver I would position myself such that the defender has a hard time seeing disc and myself. I am stationary and the defender therefore feels I am covered. Throwers waits until defender turns his back to look at me, and then puts the disc into space. I then time my cut so that only I can reach the disc. Alternatively, if defender checks back ot the thrower, I initiate by cutting. This style allowed us to play as many as 20-25 points per game, and often broke down good defenses/defenders.
Masters champs were VIGI of Japan, who staged a dramatic comeback against OLD SAG of the US, winning by one at the timecap. Tough loss for the boys from Philly. Of the four finals it was the most exciting and featured a flowing game with big plays. Yes people, that is correct: the masters final was much more entertaining (notwithstanding a universal salute rendered to the crowd in the mixed final) than the women's, open, and mixed finals. Another first for ultimate. Credit to the Japanese and also to SAGgy for getting on with play and playing so well. Strangely, because of the draw, the masters played more games, in fewer days, than any other division (!). Overall, the Japanese teams were the revelation of the tournament, taking the open title without a challenge, winning the top three women's spots, and of course the masters. N. American and European ultimate, take note. I firmly believe that observers are beneficial for our game as it is occasionally impossible to know the right call, and these moments can decide games. In the fair-play department, there was overwhelming goodness. Despite that, I witnessed individuals on Canadian masters and mixed teams who did not do their country any favors. This may be specific to Vancouver (hosts of the next WFDF world champs), but I witnessed moments in both masters games and mixed games that were not pretty, including a double-fisted flip-off of a large crowd in the mixed final. Ouch.
I enjoyed aspects of the tournament in which teams gathered after games to share stories, jokes, gifts, etc.
We gave out NZ 5-cent coins with a Tuatara on the back, now out of circulation and therefore appropriate for a masters team. When we played eventual winner VIGI, from Japan, I played against tight defense and had 2 or 3 layout grabs just in front of a similarly horizontal defender, a great series of battles for which they awarded me a scroll depicting the Nihonbashi bridge, from which all distances are measured in Japan. Stories were shared in which our respective captains recealled playing each in 1992's world champs in Utsonomiya, and of mutual respect between island nations. So of course I have good memories of that game. Much fun was also had on the sidelines, where Tuatara treated others masters teams and NZ women's teams to home-brewed, inventive and predictably rude versions of the "El Camino" cheer. ("Tu . . .atara, Tu-Tu-atara. Tu . . . atara, Tu-Tu-atara" and it went on like that.)
Got a delightful slice of home when I saw Geir and Sandra in the lobby, totally unexpectedly, of our place in Perth. They were there with Wouter and Sandra and a Dutch mixed team, Red Lights. Spent a couple of days with the Icelandic Stallion and his submissive mare after the tourney, knocking around parts south and checking out fantastic eucalypt forests and coastal stuff involving deep green pools and white sand beaches. It was so great that I wanted to see it all in 2 days so that was a bit trying for Sandra and Geir, they seemed to deal with me fine but undoubtedly high-fived right after I got on the bus. Also saw a fair bit of A Parker, there with Bad Larry, a real treat. Had to go to Perth to see friends from back home!
EJ claimed it was faster barefoot and it might be, but I think it is just a heckuva lot more fun to run that way and to jump into the sand that way. Estin competed in the 100m meter and 60 meter sprints, shot put, and 4x100 meter relay. Did real good in the running events, and won the shot put. Whunh? Shot put?? No offense meant to Estin's dad, but the guy has all the power of a wet noodle. Down under, they call him "Wee Brian". So where did this shot put thing come from? Good technique probly counts for a lot. Hmmm. A look at the other side of the family reveals some strong people, like maybe his mama and her entire clan, and a wee bit more distant on the Hicke tree sits great-uncle Bruce. Taken together, this is evidence that genetic traits can skip across entire generations. Either that, or strength is maternally inherited. Hopefully it doesn't mean that Estin will be kicking that sand in my face before he reaches age 10--I might have to run and ask Mary for help.
