(Just a quick note: If you are landed here because of a comment you left on my bookish post, you might be more interested in my review blog, Carstairs Considers. But you are very welcome to stick around here, too.)
The Saturday of Easter weekend, I went down to Orange County to play some ultimate Frisbee.
Two friends I normally play pickup with here in town played in a grandmaster tournament last summer. They were trying out for the team again this year, and I tagged along. It was a very informal pickup game. The real try outs happened at the end of April in San Diego (it's a San Diego based team) and I didn't go down for those. I know my skill level and had other things to do that weekend.
Anyway, this was a ways away from where we all live. I probably wouldn't have gone if I couldn't carpool with them. That made it nice, especially since I was driving.
The play was just pickup. I actually enjoyed it because I could mostly keep up with people. I wasn't running around trying desperately to keep up with people much faster than I ever was. I was still slow, but not noticeably slow.
Unfortunately, I did feel like I could play better than I did out there. I had lots of drops. Usually, they were coming from bad/questionable throws, but it would have been nice to catch them. The few catches I did have I then threw the disc away some. Yes, I did have a few successful completions, but not many.
However, I ended the day on a great note. I caught a score! Definitely walked off the field smiling.
Wondering what grandmasters is? It's for old players. You have to be over 38 if you are male to play. What's scary is, I'm fast approaching great grandmasters level.
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