Team USA try-outs

It was distinctly odd to be flying into Tampa and for it NOT to be October, for it NOT to be Nationals.  I am usually somewhat nervous for Nationals, but this sort of anxiety was different – I am usually calmed somewhat when contemplating the challenges facing my team at Sarasota because we are a team.  This time, I was on my own; I only had myself to rely on.  But, as it turns out, this was also somewhat liberating – I only had myself to let down.

 

The pattern of meeting new people and finding them not only to be friendly but instant-new-friend-worthy was set upon my first introductions, to Raha and Jolian.  (I’d known who Raha was but never really met her before.)  I was glad to have flown in early (I arrived to Tampa at 4:30 pm) to have time to prepare the night before with a good dinner, a visit to the grocery store for provisions, and relaxing at the hotel.  It took several rounds of various cold medications (and a dose of heavy pain killers for good measure) to subdue my cough enough to sleep.

 

Everyone was at the fields, cleated up, and throwing by 8:30.  It was on track to be a warm day, and the wind started picking up a little after 9.  Nervous smiles were exchanged between unfamiliar faces, and some introductions were made, but the real “how do you do’s” didn’t happen until the first teams were assigned.  We started out with an active warm-up from Tully Beatty that certainly got the blood pumping.  An easy flow drill to get us running and throwing helped calm my nerves, and it was here that I accomplished one of my main goals: to do one good thing. I had a nice high catch on a throw that was threatening to sail over my head. I relaxed noticeably after this.

 

The four-station fitness assessment & chat with Greg was as fun as it was grueling.  We did the drills – a 6-cone, 5 tennis ball agility drill; a timed 70-yard sprint; a 3-corner shuffling drill – individually, while the rest of your team cheered you on.  It set the tone for a supportive, encouraging atmosphere amongst what were undoubtedly some very competitive people.  Greg didn’t provide me with any earth-shattering instructions: cut, catch goals, throw goals, and dictate on D, but he did say to chose when to bid carefully, so I wasn’t out of position on the subsequent mark.

 

The key to success in the scrimmages, as the group was usually faced with a team full of unfamiliar people, was for the handlers to trust one another to move the disc well, and for cutters to work hard and create space. Chicken was on my first team, and this helped me feel at ease.  I also greatly enjoyed playing with Cate Foster, whose wacky sense of humor and energy were contagious.

 

About two points into the first scrimmage, I realized I was playing scared – I was giving my girl a huge cushion on D, and I was sitting back and waiting for others to act on O.  I decided this was not how I came to Sarasota to play. I bodied up my girl. I took initiative on O and made aggressive cuts, including some deep runs.  Consequently, I shut down my girl and even scored a goal. After scoring the goal, I was in a very good mental place: I was contributing. Perhaps not dominating, but I also clearly wasn’t out of my league. Don’t get me wrong – I also had a horrendous turn (a floaty high-backhand to the dump instead of squaring up to my mark and breaking her) but when you’re playing against good players, you’re going to forced into some turns.  I was able to put mistakes behind me and focus on the task at hand.

 

After lunch we did a triangle marking drill, the sort of which usually cause me great anxiety.  But I did quite well on the throwing part, breaking both Jacob Goldstein and Chicken (and Kathy Dobson).  Then the triangle drill of death.  We were going upwind, so my “hucks” were less than stellar, but shorter-range flicks looked good (better than my backhands, in fact – the wind was a bit diagonal, making a leading backhand a tricky throw).  Another scrimmage, this time with an interesting twist: a throw between two people of the same gender was a turn-over. Next up, another break-mark drill, this time to a cutter.  I sucked big-time at this.  Linsday was taking a half-step off from me, and is about my height, meaning I couldn’t just step through or around her.  Oh well.

 

New teams, another set of scrimmages.  My second team was less successful, but I got to play with Tuba, Jolian, Cricket, Miranda Roth, and Anna Nazarov.  Saturday concluded with conditioning: 15 sec of some exercises – squat knee tucks, mountain climbers, leg lifts, single-leg jumps – followed by a 40-yard sprint, and rest until 45 sec was up.  Repeat times 8 or so.

 

After all the horror stories I’d heard from on-line accounts of the West Coast weekend, I was expecting to have to be carried off the field.  While I was certainly exhausted, my legs felt better than anticipated.  I made myself eat a good-sized portion of pasta at dinner, then also made myself take an ice bath before passing out.  I was still battling a cold and was even more beat from that.  My legs thanked me the next day for taking that ice bath, though.  It was painful, but miraculous.

 

Sunday, the conditions were even worse.  A storm passed through briefly just before 9, but provided no respite from the wind.  And it rained again later.  We started out with a Horizontal stack cut/flow drill, that was a bit disorganized and disjointed, and had fewer completions due to the wind.  I was the last deep cut, though, and had a nice bid on an over-thrown huck from Jake Goldstein.

 

Sunday also featured a couple of drills that focused on one-on-one match-ups: an O/D cutting/defending drill, and a chase down the huck drill sort of drill.  I was far more excited about these and far less nervous than I was before the weekend began.  Everyone continued to be supportive and encouraging, and simply had fun with it.  There were lots of conciliatory and congratulatory remarks – good efforts and stellar play were recognized, instead of grudges held.  It was a really cool feeling.

 

Before our first scrimmage of the day, Tully gave us a little pep talk.  He reminded us that we weren’t just doing this for ourselves – we were doing it for the people who wanted to be here but weren’t given the chance or couldn’t make it. He acknowledged that we’d all said to ourselves we were going to give it 100% this weekend, and said that this right here – this final effort on Sunday, in the shit wind & rain – was the last 10%.  That really struck a chord in me, and I dug deep and found a fourth-wind, and ran hard.  I had one great point…but also some bad turns.  There was one i/o backhand upwind that floated over RT’s head, and an ill-advised backhand huck also to RT that got poach-D’d (but probably wouldn’t have been completed anyway). Nonetheless, I’m actually happy I attempted them, instead of being intimidated by the conditions and taking the uber-safe throw.  

 

Sunday concluded with a silly game using small discs (that we got to keep as souvenirs) and a final conditioning relay-race drill.  One final cheer of “USA!” and the weekend was over.  I am truly honored to have been invited to participate in this process.  And I am proud of myself for attending, for preparing myself mentally and physically, and for pushing through fatigue and doubt and playing my best.  Even if I don’t make the team, I can walk away knowing that I gave it my all, and that by pushing myself and those around me, I helped make Team USA the best it can be.

 

USA!