It was about a year ago - the Middle of March Madness - and we were the favorite to take a local tourney. On Saturday, we knew that half our team was in an evening wedding, and though we tried valiantly with six, we were bumped in the last game. We joined the rest of our team at the reception. Sunday, we were in the final for the loser's pool and we were up against some college team we had bageled the day before in pool play. They thought they would use this tournament as a springboard for their "Nationals Bid". They were full of psyche and self-praise, and we had heard from their sidelines throughout the tourney how there was obviously just zero spirit in club play. We heard them say that they were "the best college team there" "playing an obviously mortal A-level team" adding the usual, "We can beat these guys, they're old, tired, hung-over, drunk, and worse, we're younger and faster and have more subs...." you know the rap. We wanted to get the game over with so we could go watch some hoop, and so the newlyweds could start their honeymoon. We did not want to have to interrupt our bloodys and sunday paper, but the wedding crew wasn't back yet, so we offered to play Iron Man or Hot Box to decide the game.
They insisted that we play Ultimate, seven on seven, and that they would begin to assess points in five minutes as stated at the captains meeting "which you would know if you had been there". After distracting them with an argument for fifteen minutes, which bought us enough time for the bride to show up (the car with her new husband and the rest of wedding party was receiving a speeding ticket), they wimped out on their original demand and agreed to only assess one point starting then, and every five minutes there after. So we put five on the line. We left the bride as a deep in a five man zone, and typical of college teams, they couldn't handle out of a paper bag. They tried to put it through the middle, and our MM made a routine block, picked and pushpassed for the score. 7 on 5 and its tied at 1-1. They try a hammer, dropped. Airbounced for the score. Their huck attempt gets pointblocked. Double-helix for the score. They call time out. They work it upwind to the goal line and throw it out of the end zone. Corner to corner huck for a score. 4-1 us. They are having a melt down. They are now going downwind, and they send their tall guy deep against the bride, the height mismatch is about 14 inches. She is the only woman in the game, and the college guys, to be "spirited", have played a restrained, poaching defense on her, but our bang-bang style on their turn overs just hasn't given her the opportunity to show why she's been to nationals six times. The throw long is strong, but without lots of Zs, so about ten yards out of the endzone the wind sits on it and pushes it down. Suddenly, its going to be a sprint to the disc instead of a jump, and the bride identifies this immediately, takes the position, and LAYS high and hard. The college kid, still young-tall-goofy, responds to her actions (he didn't or couldn't read the disc), and lays late and low, but provides a nice pillow for her to land on. She did not biff, but caught, jumps to the line to start the flow, and an argument ensues about the man down, but the argument is entirely among the college team. "He was fouled, were you fouled? Foul! No he's hurt. Are you hurt? Injury sub! No he wants to stay in. Can you stay in? Hey man, its like spirit of the game because it was caused by your player that he doesn't have to sub. How about letting us check it in for spirit?" We did not move or speak during this entire tirade. The tall guy taps it in and practically wraps himself around the bride, she reaches underneath him and hits an alley invert for thirty yards and is gone for one of the extras to pick up. She gets a centering pass off a poach, blades it to the corner, makes her man bite hard on the corner cut and sweeps wide to the opposite side. She is half-heartedly picked up by one of their free guys, but his judgment is that the pass that's coming is OB, and he says so, but she skies mighty and greatests to me, her defender slaps it away on a layout, but she lays and grabs it for the goal. She gives it her spin flourish, and dishes it spinning plate down towards her sprawled defended, saying to us "Man, if I weren't pregnant, I'd probably play harder."