Author: Max Weidman
The men of Oxy’s Ultimate team don’t wear tie-dye to practice and there is no boombox playing Grateful Dead cassettes. The practices—Monday nights from 8 to 10 p.m. and Wednesday nights from 6:30 to 9 p.m.—resemble those of other teams on campus: the players warm up, run drills, scrimmage and condition. The uninitiated are often surprised to learn how little a game of ultimate resembles a weed-smoking session. It seems that the sport, despite some 30 years of inter-collegiate play, always depends upon its spare participants and enthusiasts to do the work of demystification.
For starters, it shouldn’t properly be called “Ultimate Frisbee,” since “Frisbee” is actually a trademark of a toy company called Wham-O. If this seems trivial, ask professional volleyball player Misty May how she’d like her sport to be called “beach Spalding.”
Regardless, the disc used in a regulation game weighs 175 grams. It can be tossed in any manner. Typically, players use some combination of backhands (the common manner of throwing), forehands and hammers.
Gameplay is simple. There are seven players to a side. Once you catch the disc you stop running. Possession changes when a pass fails or is intercepted. Points are scored by catching the disc in the endzone, much like rugby or football. After points, the scoring team throws the disc to the other team, much like a kick-off. What pervades the game’s synthetic feel, however, is a very genuine sportsmanship. The few “fouls” or violations which can halt play are all called by the players themselves, as the spirit of Ultimate transcends the need for referees.
Oxy’s own Ultimate team consists of about 20 players who lay out for the disc year round. They attend around six or seven tournaments a year, with events held at UCSD, Santa Monica and Las Vegas. The men play many SoCal teams: UCLA, Pomona, Cal Tech and occasionally ASU. The team hasn’t played in any tournaments this year, but November looks as though it will be a busy month: Oxy’s men plan to attend at least two tournaments in the upcoming weeks.
The team is a model for cooperation. The team has three captains who divvy up responsibilities and get along well. “We rarely have trouble agreeing as a trio on most issues that arise,” Captain Andrew Blythe (junior) said. Blythe handles the team’s fiscal affairs. He said that, during scrimmages, score is kept only if the clock is running out and practice has to be brought to a close. The rest of the time, it seems everyone is too busy having fun and concentrating on self-improvement to bother.
The team’s faculty adviser, Economics Professor Mike Tamada, teaches a two-unit Ultimate class open to anyone interested in the sport. Oxy Ultimate is also trying to have a tournament on their home turf at some point this year.
The game is easy and fun to watch—it frequently inspires “I can do that” sentiments. However, Ultimate is decidedly different from throwing a cheap flying disc to your dog. It’s an innovative sport which flies under the radar of most. But if you open your eyes, you’ll notice that the flight is circular, perfectly weighted and hovering in the air right in front of you. Forget that statue of some Greek guy hucking a discus. Those who seek grace, balance between showmanship and sportsmanship and classical beauty need look no further than Ultimate.
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