March 2024
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Failure to Fail

Do you ever have one of those situations where you kindof wish you could pull an Out of This World, freeze time and then run away (possibly screaming)?

Yeah, me too.

Constantly.

Let’s back things up a bit…

I had a great day today. Kristian let me sleep in. The weather was beautiful. Amanda and I had a great time spending way too much money at a couple of discount fabric stores. I finished the top of Ruby’s quilt. I was feeling pretty good. Until I wasn’t feeling so good. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that a lot of Cotonelle was involved.

I was so tempted to not go to Ultimate Frisbee tonight. Curling up on the couch seemed like a completely acceptable alternative. So did curling up on the floor. But then I realized that a) I didn’t go last week and 2) I won’t be going next week. So, I forced myself to rally.

And then I got to frisbee…

And I kindof wished that I had stayed home. Or maybe just hung out in the parking lot with the sketchy dudes who were in a dark corner drinking cases of beer. It might have been nice. I bet they would have sold me a stereo.

Instead, I showed up at our game, introduced myself to the other players, admitted that I was on their team and, thus, created the expectation that I would, yaknow, play. As in, put on my sneakers, run out onto the turf and attempt to keep up with everyone else.

You see, nobody told me that Winter Hat League, unlike Fall Hat League, is made up almost entirely of people who are ridiculously good at frisbee. It takes a bit of an effort to get there (unless you’re me and it’s a five minute drive away), it takes place at a time of year when most people aren’t thinking about frisbee. And it’s the only game in town right now. So, basically, you’ve a got a perfect storm for ridiculously good frisbee players getting together and playing ridiculously good frisbee with only ridiculously good frisbee players.

And me.

Who is not a ridiculously good frisbee player.

I’m not even a good frisbee player.

I’m more of a “holy carp, I just caught it! I’d better throw it away now!” type of frisbee player.

In short, I kindof suck.

Like a Hoover.

I felt like a kindergartner attempting to take the SATs. Someone with Tourette’s at a State Dinner. A Pop Warner QB trying to fill in for Tom Brady. In short, I was completely and utterly out of my element and out of my league. Except, it was my league, because I signed up for it. Paid them $80 to play, even. So, I had no choice but to attempt to play.

Running screaming out of the building without the advantage of freezing time didn’t seem like a viable option.

So, I played. And it scared the living bejeesus out of me. But, you know what? It wasn’t so bad. I managed to hold my own. If by, “hold my own” you mean “not fuck up too badly.” Mostly, I stayed out of the way on offense and I ran my ass off on defense. I had the frisbee thrown to me twice and I caught it once. I threw it once and the guy didn’t drop it. I even managed a D-block. In the end zone. Against a girl who had zero percent body-fat and what appeared to be rockets instead of sneakers.

And, if you forget about the mind numbing terror, it was actually kind of fun. I was the Queen of Lowered Expectations out there, people. I was the Little Engine Who Could. I was Rudy on crutches. Every time I managed to not screw up too badly, my teammates cheered like I had just kicked a game winning field goal. “Way to go Hope! You could have done so much worse!”

By the end of the game, my teammates were encouraging me to be bolder with my cuts. To attempt to catch more frisbees. To change up my strategy of not getting in the way.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll learn a few things from the league. It’s good to challenge yourself.  Although, if I don’t manage to play up to this level, I reserve the right to run out the building screaming.

7 comments to Failure to Fail

  • It sounds like fun. I actually love playing football, but haven’t done so in a long time. Stick with it!

  • NancyH

    rock it, Hope! it’s cool that your team is willing to work with you, throw to you, etc! i bet you kick my butt in the spring. 🙂

  • Mel

    I agree with NancyH – nice that the hot shots are supportive. Sounds nothing like school sports. You might actually learn something.

  • Mary Stella

    Atta girl, Hope! Whoot! Whoot! Fire that frisbee around like you mean it! Remember, nothing can take the place of persistence. If you insist on embracing mediocrity in Ultimate Frisbee playing, then you’ll never rise above that level.

    You go, girl!

  • I think that being a hotshot gives people the confidence to be supportive. :pThe fact that we almost doubled our opponents score didn’t hurt, either. Plus, frisbee folks seem to be a supportive bunch in general. I’m hoping to pick up some good skills!

  • Mary, you’re so right. I think that sometimes I hold myself back from being a better player by assuming that I’m not going to play well.

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