1999 CLUB NATIONALS – OPEN

[Ed. note: the legendary "Our Hero" epic, here, in all its lengthy and over-saturated glory!]

"I'd be happy if I could hang with Forch."–Ken Dobyns.

Kenny is talking about on-field comparisons, of course, not buddy-buddy palling around. Deferential respect for an opponent is the highest level of compliment ever bestowed by Ken Dobyns. Let me explain. Dobyns has never liked Death or Glory and he never will. It is a testament to his pride and his exhausting dedication to Ultimate that he can't give up the love easily. The question–who is a better team, Death or Glory or NYNY?–may never be answered, but we can all agree on one thing, we can all agree on Fortunat Mueller, the dynamo behind DoG. And maybe this year wasn't just about Death or Glory winning six National Championships. Maybe there was something more to it than that.

The whole weekend was constructed as an homage to DoG. That certainly seems to be a fact, and you won't hear much different from me because Death or Glory is again our National Champion and the way DoG plays is the way to win. And every team came to this tournament to win–one game, two games, or eight games.

There was some doubt early in the season. Would DoG be able to keep their composure with the new group of young players demanding quality playing time? Could they stand the pressure from the enemies of the past and the increasingly difficult competition of the future?

Tune-Up wasn't their top tournament, neither was Easterns. Worlds was a miraculous win for a team missing half their studs. When I saw the full Glory for the first time, at Regionals, I got the sense that 1999 was going to be something special. They were dominant, possessive of an encompassing quality that has left opponents grasping for straws at every Nationals.

On the sidelines, they are ubiquitous. After scores they are celebratory. On the field they are hard-running. Off season they are training. On defense they are tricky. On offense they are perfectionists. With spirit they are leaders. Youth is their to keep. Wisdom is theirs to provide. DoG commands the essence of Ultimate today.

Now reader, please bear with me and grab a comfortable seat. This is a story about our sport and our Championships and it is no longer mere coverage. I have taken liberties and, yes, have even tried to touch upon the mythical. I mean, why not have some fun? Take some time from your busy lives and enjoy this true tale to its fullest. I hope, and I wish, that you will delight in reading this as much as I have suffered, er I mean enjoyed in watching and writing about Ultimate.

*******

DoG versus BoG, 9am Thursday, yawn. But what fabulous colors. DoG manages to have pretty ugly uniforms every year, at least the four times I've seen them win Nationals. It's not about the uniforms. Get that straight now. For their part, BoG wore neon orange t-shirts without numbers. They looked like flagmen.

The big match. Supposedly Jonny G, arch-enemy of DoG, coined the team name to get under DoG's skin. Not so, according to Ricky Melner, "I don't know how that got started, but Jonny didn't start the team, I did."

DoG was ready in the early morning. BoG's defense did nothing. Death or Glory scored 15 out of 18 times they touched the disc. Seeya Blaze, hope ya can make semis. 15-9 Death.

In a "sluggish" game for them to start the day, Furious George, not an early-morning contender, outlasted the boys from DC, Anodyne, 15-12. Furious was pretty blasé about the game. I wonder what Jim Nesbitt thought.

"Too much oxygen out here," said a Jam player after they shot up Colorado's Secret Squirrel 15-2 in the second game of the day for both teams. Poor 13th seed Squirrel had a rough day, finishing 0-3 after losing to Ring of Fire and 12th seed Madison.

Meanwhile, BoG versus WSL All-Stars, the ex-New Yorker vs New Yorker matchup, proved something of a dud. BoG had way more experience and WSL had pressure on them to win and get back into semis. BoG just decided to stop that from happening, and when they are unified in their desires, they can play awesome Ultimate. Such a killer roster.

The big games were at the end of the day. Condors versus Sub Zero, Furious versus Houston, and Ring versus Jam (rematch!). Ring was seeded fourth this year. I don't know why. Sure, they made semis last year. But they've also been clobbered in half the tournaments they've played in since–including Easterns, Choptank and Tune-Up.

Jam was same old Jam, minus some hotheaded guys. A kindler, gentler nation of Jam. They were not happy about being reminded how they blew an 8-4 half-time lead against Ring of Fire last year and lost a chance at semis. So they came out and beat Ring soundly, 15-10. Ring? They missed several chances at 10-9 to tie the game when they had the disc on the goal-line. It went all downhill from there.

Furious beat Houston at Tune-Up. "They have some pretty hot players. but I don't think their team goes as deep," said Furious co-captain Andrew Lugsdin. Yes, Houston does have some tamales, namely Brian Harriford, Damien Scott and Jason 'Pony' Calvi. And they actually do have depth. But not as much as Furious' Furious 18.

But what a couple of fun teams to watch. Electrifying styles. The future of Ultimate. Big crazy grabs, deep throws and hard-charging. Unfortunately the teams fell into a turnover trap and it got ugly. But Furious, they just don't care. They finally won 15-12 behind some hot play from Mike Enns.

Condors versus Sub Zero. First time they met last year in winner-gets-semis, Sub Zero went down 8-1 and got humiliated in a 17-6 loss. Pathetic. So this year they needed to get some props, some respect.

Early, it was 3-1 Condors. Betty-bye for Zero? Not this time. They tied it at 3-3 and we had a game. Condors took half 8-7. Sub Zero came right back with a huck to Dave Boardman to tie at 8s and open a new era. Condors stretched it to 11-10. Then Zero got the disc. And turned it over. Condors up 12-10.

They had their chances. All weekend Sub Zero played great ultimate, but they haven't learned how to get in position to win those big games. Too many times, so many times, they could not close it at the end. This game went 15-12 to Santa Barbara. But Sub Zero proved they can play, and play well. A solid, real team.

"I wouldn't have given us any respect last year. We had nothing. We absolutely gained some respect this time" said Mark 'Paco' Enright afterwards.

The new tournament format. Thrilling. No more wait-two-days for a (hopefully) decent semifinal. Suddenly we had great matches on Friday in games of importance, and even better matchups on Saturday in games of win-or-go-home.

The most amusing aspect of the new tournament format? All the games were to 15 and no one said a word. See, it used to be that pool play games were to 17 and semis to 19 and finals to 21. Remember those days? Not this year. All games to 15, finals to 17. Welcome to the future.

So the top two teams from pool A and pool D (seeds 1,4,5 and 8) and pool F (seeds 2,3,6 and 7) became two new pools, E and F. In a year with eight potential finalists, this proved to be a great thing. Pool E, in order, became DoG, Jam, Ring of Fire, and Blaze of Glory (the WSL All-Stars lost to DoG 15-11 and fell to the B bracket). In pool F, it was Condors, Furious, Sub Zero and Houston.

Bracket B also went with this format, partly to determine next year's wildcards and partly to give all teams a chance to play against even competition. Pool G: WSL All Stars, Madison, Secret Squirrel, Bootyquake (winner of best uniforms). Pool H: Florida, Anodyne, Second Wind, and Red Tide (lost to Furious this time around, 15-6).

Briefly, let me just say that the new tournament format and the addition of more teams meant that it was impossible for me to cover all games or even all teams. For instance, Friday morning...

FRIDAY

DoG played Ring of Fire, The Condors played Houston Houndz, Furious George played Sub Zero and Jam matched wits with Blaze of Glory, all at the same time. What to do, what to do?

Blaze, Jam: headcases? We know that Jam can lose focus and be affected by head games, just like WSL All-Stars, Ring of Fire, and shoot, half a dozen others. But this was supposed to be a new, younger Jam without the baggage featuring a strong core of Stanford players (Atesman, Eisenburg and Johnston - who wasn't playing due to an injury). Blaze lost to Jam at Regionals. Pshaw. Who cared about that.

Really, what you had here was old Sockeye against rival Jam. Blaze of Glory is a team of highly talented individuals who can play tight as a team when the opposition comes in focus as a common enemy, and Jam was clearly an enemy to The BoG's way of life. Jam failed to confuse The BoG with disguises, spells, or friendly chatter. That was their fatal mistake and BoG clubbed them 15-11. The dangerous collective of beastly things known as BoG scored 7 of the last 8 times they touched plastic.

BoG also won the A2-D2 match when enemy Ring of Fire failed to disrupt BoG's rhythm and never disguised themselves as harmless good ol' boys. Like a troll, BoG is dangerous when they smell blood, but weak at detecting intention. Ring wanted desperately to win that game and prove themselves, but they became downcast when Blaze kept scoring. BoG won 15-11, finished second in the pool on the day and looked good for quarters. "Feel the glory!!" chanted the team.

"We're doing everything we've been doing, but at 90%," said a frustrated Ring player afterwards.

The weird thing about Friday pool play was the sense that no game really mattered. With such a high-level of competition amongst the elite eight, and four teams already with an 0-1 record and four at 1-0 (you carried over your pool play result from Thursday against the other team in your new pool) it seemed like it would be difficult to alter your seeding to a considerable advantage. That turned out to be false.

One team the Condors did not expect to lose to was the Houndz. Santa Barbara never saw Houston last year at Nationals, didn't see them at Worlds, didn't go to Tune-Up. "People sort of don't know us. We like that," says Houndz captain Sandy Ganzell. It's true–most teams are not familiar with Houston's cast of characters. But they were certain to know PTPers Harriford, Damien, and Pony.

"This is the best game I've seen Pony play," said a sidelined Houndz player. Indeed, Pony led the Houston charge and the Houndz never slowed down. They made few mistakes after an early 7-turnover point (scored by Houston). They played a wide-open, long bomb-dropping offense based on speed and quickness, and this helped to open up the cut-unders and come-backs. The Condors played well, but could not get turnovers out of the Houndz. They appeared rattled for the first time in a long while. Houston won 15-12 after a Damien to Harriford score followed with a Harriford to Damien huck for the game-winner.

At one point Harriford went to the sideline with a sore knee. I asked him if he was ok, and he smiled and said, "Yeah. Just tired and hungover." Keepin' it real.

The Condors weren't going to have an easy day. The Houston loss was unexpected, but they got over it by preaching, "we celebrate for 2 minutes when we win, so we can only mope for 2 minutes when we lose." Then they jogged a lap and settled in for Furious George. Furious escaped Sub Zero in the first game of the day after Zero, right with them, repeatedly hucked the disc away at the end to give the final three points to the Canadians.

"Neither team has a whole lot of secrets. The Condors just run hard," spoke Furious's Lugsdin before the game, "Lots of good talent, lots of good throwers on both teams and neither team is afraid to throw deep."

The game was tied at every point except 8's. That should tell you the expertise and loose demeanor that defines both teams. The Condors got on the board first when James Studarus sent a huck to Ryan Yarbrough. The Condors came out in zone to stifle Furious' long game. It stopped the hucks, but couldn't stop them from scoring and the game proceeded to half exactly as it started, Condors up by one, 8-7.

Furious could not connect on the opening offense and the Condors converted to take a rare 2-point lead. But soon enough they were tied again at 9's, and then it was 3 for 3, James and Shank. Two young, stellar players, James with the late-release backhand and Jeff "Pinkie" Cruickshank for Furious with scoobers, looping forehands, quick-release hammers and whatever else he's got in his bag of tricks. Shank to Mike Grant, James to Andy Crews, Shank to Duncan McDonald, James huck to JD Lobue, Shank to Evan Wood, Jason Seidler to James, tied at 13s. Both teams were mixing it up between Man and Zone defense, almost going 50-50 for the game.

It was going to take something extraordinary at the end of the game to turn the tide. The Condors took the lead 14-13 but Furious was undaunted by game point, scored, and the cap was enacted, win by two, hard cap 17. At 15 all, the Condors flinched. Seidler could not connect deep with Yarbrough and Furious took over with a chance to take their first lead of the game. The Condors responded with a zone, Furious deep in their own endzone. Furious was going nowhere, swinging it across the field. Then Al Nichols tried to punch a forehand through the cup and it was shot down at the line of scrimmage. Foot block.

"I've been telling myself all weekend to start using my foot on those low ones because I've been getting roached and it just happened," explained Hollywood, "It was right there in the wheelhouse." That was the play of the game as the Condors scored to make it 16-15 and went on to win 17-16. A helluva game that came down to a rare foot block.

Sub Zero took advantage of Houston's high spirits. At Tune-Up, Houston ran Sub Zero hard, but the Minnesota boys held their own today, playing to win by four points and hoping that Furious could beat the Condors, which would have sent the pool to a three-way tie for second place based on differential, and Sub Zero would have the edge. Behind veteran beard Dan Rydel, Sub Zero did as commanded and won 15-11.

The Condors held seed, finishing first in their pool after that nearly perfect game (the teams committed eight turnovers each in the 33-point game). Furious placed second, Sub Zero third and Houston, despite the early-morning upset, landed fourth.

Jam's disappointing loss to Blaze earlier in the day did not distract them for Death or Glory. In fact, they were as fired-up as ever to hand DoG its first Nationals defeat since, um, ever? Jam came to this tournament hoping to meet DoG in the finals, like half the teams here. Here was their chance to prove they belonged.

First they had to stop DoG's immaculate offense. It worked for a while as they were able to get some blocks. But offensively they failed to match Boston, and half went to DoG, 8-5. Jam brought it back in the second half, to 10-9 and 11-10 but failed to convert a turnover that would have tied the game. DoG won 15-12.

A better game was the one before on the same field. Ring of Fire opened the day with a chance to get in the groove, but it was sadly not to be. Hanging with Boston the entire time, they got what they wanted at 14-13, DoG, when Parinella tried to put a forehand into the endzone that went awry. Captain Kreivenas picked up the turnover and immediately Ring was streaking the opposite direction. He placed a low-flying forehand crossfield that just zipped out of the reach of a diving Ring player. If anything, it was a sign that Ring was having one of those seasons. DoG scored easily and breathed a sigh of relief.

Next up for DoG was the winner of the All-Stars–Houndz pre-quarter. Next for Ring of Fire was a chance to prove they still had what it takes to be a top team when they squared off against Florida in pre-quarters.

The remainder of the quarterfinal games had been set. BoG moved up to a four seed overall and faced Sub Zero, the fifth seed. Jam would get a chance to avenge Regionals with another NW showdown against Furious George, while the Condors awaited the result of Ring and Florida.

The WSL All-Stars, as it has been mentioned, were off their game this year. They still run hard and play tough defense, but they are turnover-prone and missed their departed big-time players. They won their B bracket pool, but not without giving up 12 points to Secret Squirrel (a young team still a year or two away from making some noise) and 11 to Madison (an new team rising out of the Wisconsin Ultimate scene, long a hotbed for Ultimate. Madison effectively won the B bracket, finishing ninth overall). It had already been a long day for New York and now they faced Houston and the Houndz had all the intangibles in their favor.

They had the motivation to avenge last year's bitter loss that would have given them semis and they had an ego boost by landing in the A bracket this year. But when it came down to it, the Houndz just outran and outplayed New York. Houston is not a conservative team: they will put the disc up in the air. Defensively for WSL, someone had to take personal responsibility and get Harriford out of the passing lanes or he was going to muck things up. WSL had trouble delegating authority as players were wont to assume captaining roles themselves when times were tough. Houston ran away with the final five points after New York closed within two at 10-8.

On the field one over, Ring of Fire was in a groove and they withstood the fouls and feuds from Florida. Florida was a good team, combining Gainesville's Vicious Cycle with the Miami Refugees. A lot of homegrown talent. But halftime was 8-3 Ring and the final score matched the other play-in, 15-8 in favor of Ring of Fire.

SATURDAY–QUARTERFINALS AND SEMIS

The stage must be properly set for the action to take place. Setting: Del Mar Polo Fields. Time: 9am. Actors: All teams.

"Yesterday was a stepping stone," spoke a BoG huddle before facing the unknown in Sub Zero.

"Defense! Destroy! Desire!" cheered the Angry Monkeys.

"This is an opportunity for greatness. We are the hardest-working, smartest, best conditioned team at this tournament," declared Mooney.

"Oh say can you see, by the dawn's early light, what so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming....for the land of the free! and the home of the JAM!" cheered Jam.

"There's no coming out slow this game. This is our whole season," spoke the Houndz.

Houston hoped to derail the gravy train, but their opening pull landed short. Harriford was on the sideline. Could he make an impact in this game against Boston? I asked him how he felt. "Alright," he grinned, "unless I'm lying to you." A half-hour later I heard that Brian had sprained his ankle and Boston was winning easily. The game ended 15-8. Next up?

Furious was completely befuddled by Jam. Jam's Mike Payne had laid it out for me the day before. They were going to mix it up on defense with junk zones and transitional zones, and bait unwise Furious hucks with Big Jim Schoettler back defensively. Offensively, work it short on their deep defenders. Mentally, Jam recognized several things: 1) Furious lacked an elder statesman and were thus vulnerable at high-pressure Nationals game-time 2) Jam's NW Regionals 21-20 loss was the first time they had lost to Furious, and it had hurt their pride and 3) "if we feel and play like an underdog, that's good for us."

Everything worked precisely as planned until Furious' younger statesman graduated to elder statesman when the game was on the line.

Offensively, Jam preached 'workmanship'. But it was their defense that crippled Furious and enabled Jam to open up 3-1 on a forehand from Ryan Hoover to Idris Nolan. Furious was visibly frustrated. Jam was everywhere in the first half, scoring long, shutting down Furious's deep game behind Big Jim, owning the sidelines. They took half 8-4.

"We talked about our problems at halftime. Jam was flowing pretty smooth, so we wanted to play a stronger, more physical D. We needed to change momentum," explained Furious's Lugsdin.

And that is exactly what they did. Mike Grant opened the second half with a huge layout catch in the endzone. But Jam responded and Furious threw the disc away yet again, allowing a Jam score. This continued for another 3 points, with Furious getting more and more frustrated and Jam becoming increasingly confident.

At 12-8 Jam's confidence was too high and Furious's frustration too manifest. Furious finally got a break to make it 12-10. They pulled to Jam and suddenly Furious became an intensity born of pride and determination, the defense laying out on every throw. Somehow, Jam broke through with a forehand up the line to John Shelton who stood eight yards from a crucial score. Shank guarded him, marked him hard, fouled him on the throw, then gave a forearm shiver to his chest. I thought they were going to fight, but Shelty kept his cool. Behind him, the defense was furious. Shelty sent a forehand to the short corner, knocked down, but brought back because Shank fouled him. Shelty again sent a forehand to the short corner, knocked down, but brought back because Shank fouled him.

It was a tense moment. A game-changing point. I've never seen that kind of fierceness from normally well-mannered Jeff Cruickshank. But as a captain of this young team he took it upon himself to lead by example, to show them how to win.

"I don't normally play a lot of defensive points," said Cruickshank, "but I put myself on the D line and played the final eight points to lead by example. We kept getting broken on the force. I kept telling our players that they were in an offensive rhythm, and the only way to break it was to be more physical on the mark."

"I think its kind of a crappy way to play ultimate. Foul someone three times on the goal-line on the open side? If you get beat, you should get beat," spoke Jam's Dennis Karlinsky after the game.

"I remember being in his position (Shelty's) many times before, getting fouled by a Rhino defender or a Sockeye defender and losing my cool. You can't do that," said Shank.

Cruickshank's refusal to give ground defined the game. Shelton finally called time-out, checked the disc in and got off a clean throw (he never went to the dump). But he was forced into a high-release forehand to avoid Shank's mark and the disc sailed over Biscuit's head. Turnover. "We're not all hucks!" someone screamed from the Furious sideline, but too late because this game was all Shank's and he let one rip to Mike Enns for the score, 12-11.

Jam responded with a score, but their confidence was shattered and the mistakes started to pile up. Shank sent another one to Mike Grant, 13-12 Jam. Jam turned over the disc twice in a ten-minute point before Furious worked patiently through a zone to score and tie at 13s. Jam called timeout. They were losing their heads.

Furious came down in zone, Jam's defensive team (since the offense wasn't working, Jam's coaches decided to play the D team down the stretch) popped it up, easy turnover. Shank to Evan Wood. Three passes later Jam turned it over again and Al Nichols sent an ill-advised crossfield backhand to Mitch Scott to end the game dramatically, 15-13. For the fantasy leaguers out there, Cruickshank threw nine goals, but none of them mattered as much as his mark on John Shelton.

Jam was, well, dazed. This was their game. They had it won and in ten minutes of play the victory had been snatched away. It seemed inconceivable that Furious would outscore them 7 to 1 in the final eight points of the game.

"We played pretty darn well first half. Second half–I don't think it was jitters. It was that classic 'play not to lose instead of play to win'" spoke Karlinsky, "And they came out in the second half and the game changed physically. I think a lot of people are in shock right now."

Ring of Fire hoped to make an impression on the Condors. They needed to disrupt the Condors impressively consistent offense. But the Condors opened up a 5-2 lead before Ring of Fire responded with a run, closing to 7-6 and getting themselves back in the game. The Condors took half nonetheless and it was all over after that. Santa Barbara kept getting turnovers and defensive blocks on Ring in the second half and their defensive team scored with frightening regularity, finishing with a 7-1 run to a 15-7 victory.

"We played much better D than we had all weekend," said Studarus after the game. Wait, what does he know about defense?

The player of the game for the Condors was team psyche Steve Dugan. Relegated to the sidelines since breaking his throwing arm at Worlds, Dugan was not expected to play in San Diego. After all, he was carrying extra weight with that metal plate. Dugan kept it under wraps that he was cleared to play a week earlier (but one layout on that side could ruin his arm for good). He cleated up for this game in preparation for the run at finals.

"We said 'turn it around, turn it around' and we never quite did," spoke Ring's Augie Kreivenas about the season, "It was close. 15-13 vs DoG. A few less boneheaded plays and we win that game and our confidence is there."

The BoG had never seen Sub Zero, didn't know what they looked like, who played for them, and most importantly, what they were made of. The BoG superstars were confident of victory and focused on their semifinal with the Condors or Furious and then their final game against DoG –the final revenge for three consecutive years of Sockeye finals' losses.

"If we didn't overlook that quarters game, we could have been in the finals," joked Ricky Melner and Greg "Sheckie" Shiring the next day. "We were still drawing offenses on the line."

The pre-tournament hype labeled BoG as a DoG knockoff propagated by Jon Gewirtz, but according to Melner, the team was formed by him, Gary Brady, Brook Martin and Shiring. "The DoG-BoG thing was an afterthought. I almost changed the name because of that." said Melner, "I just didn't want to go out like that. I wanted to go out in a Blaze of Glory..."

"From the get-go we were one big whore. There were 45-50 guys on the 'maybe, might play' list," said Shiring. Melner added, "How many practices did we have? Zero?"

But in Ultimate a consistent vibe is a good one and these guys knew who they were and why they came, and that helps to explain their success up to quarters. Unfortunately BoG didn't want this game as much as Sub Zero.

Zero took a 3-1 lead before BoG woke up. A foul call in the endzone was upheld by the observers, giving BoG the score to make it 3-2 and prevent an even larger Sub Zero lead, and more importantly, it psyched the team up. BoG rode the momentum to a 6-4 lead. Perhaps BoG thought that the initial scoring burst was all that Minneapolis/St.Paul/Northfield had.

Instead, Sub Zero fired it up and brought home four straight goals four times they touched the disc, the last three on defense. Sub Zero plays a very good contain defense. They match up man very effectively and prevent bowling alleys and deep throws equally well. They allowed BoG to dump and swing, but any yardage gain had to be earned. BoG could not keep up their level of concentration. Sub Zero took the half in a big way when Eric Carr skied in the endzone over Shiring to complete the four-goal run.

BoG fought back in the second half and tied it at tens. From there the game got sloppy. Sub Zero likes a big deep game, sending it to 6'8'' Josh "Kaiser" Wilhelm or letting Turtle loose to run under the disc. Old Stanford veteran Andrei Straumanis anchored the handling unit with Jon Remucal, Paco, Steve Steury and Dan Rydel. BoG's many veterans, Babs, DeMan, Sheckie, Gewirtz, Melner among them could not generate a flow. It came down to 12-12 when the horn sounded, game to 14. Sub Zero was receiving the disc. They threw it away, but then so did BoG. Zero sent the disc deep to Chris York. He had a great run, but the disc bounced off his hands. 6 passes later, York got it back with a layout D on Faust to prevent the score. That was the uplift they needed and Sub Zero finally scored on a huck to Kaiser, 13-12.

"We're in a clam for 3. A couple passes clicked off. I knew the marker was good and the thrower was in bad shape. I took a couple steps and saw that all the thrower had was my man. I stepped in, turned on the guns, and it was easy from there," explained Paco about his game-changing catch-block near the goalline. It was a big play at just the right moment and it turned the match in Sub Zero's favor for good.

Even though they couldn't convert, two passes later BoG threw the disc to the turf. Shiring made the grab, called it up. Did he catch the disc at the same time it hit the ground? Shiring and Zero's Randy Gage stared each other down. Neither blinked. The call went to the observer and it was ruled down. Sub Zero scored easily and the game was over.

"We knew a lot of their players, and we got some scouting reports from the west. But we didn't talk about them much–we talked about ourselves," said Paco after the game.

"We thought, aw, we got a pretty good road to the final," said Melner later on.

SEMIS

DoG vs Furious George, Condors vs Sub Zero.

It was rematch and revenge time for Sub Zero and Death or Glory. DoG? Well, they lost to Furious twice at Tune-Up. Hah. DoG out to avenge a loss? Not since 1994.

Making semifinals was a treat for the third-year team out of Minneapolis. In a sense, they were a lot like Ring of Fire in 1997. A solid core of veterans surrounded by younger players from the top echelons of college Ultimate. Sub Zero has been playing good, solid Ultimate without the head games. The year had been kind to them; they won Chop Tank, made semifinals at Easterns and Tune-Up, and won Regionals easily.

Here in San Diego they avoided the big teams en route to semis. They lost to the Condors and Furious George in close games that ultimately didn't matter, and beat Florida and Houston before matching up with BoG in semis, and BoG was due for a loss.

Sub Zero runs damn hard and has enough big-time players to make things happen. But no one on the team has managed to beat Santa Barbara, on any level, in a long time. They had played well against the Condors on Friday but could not come up with a W. Now, to advance to Finals, Sub Zero needed to crack the Condors code. They needed to break their confidence.

It is what separates the Condors from most of the teams present at Nationals. Sure, they have great players, but what has made them win so often in the past two years is their fundamental togetherness as a team. They have been playing together for so long that they know each other's strengths and weaknesses and they are simpatico on a level whereby 'no-sub-calling' can be employed to great effect.

"We know what to play and what to expect. The Condors are such a tradition. You can't get a big ego about it. You see that and you realize its something bigger than I am. Just do your part and play your best," relates Hollywood.

"We're not trying to force the concept of the team. We don't have to do that," says Brent Russell.

It certainly helps that the Condors have nine former captains from Black Tide–the college team that won six National Championships in the 90's. You can't get that kind of winning tradition anywhere else in the country. And winning creates cohesion.

As usual, this game came down to the wire. It has really helped teams like the Condors and Death or Glory to have played in extremely tight games and to have won (e.g. Condors 17-16 over Furious). The feelings of pressure in late-game situations aren't as manifest as they are for other teams.

It started well, extremely well, for the Condors. Both teams played clean, fast, exciting Ultimate to start the game, matching goal for goal, and another goal for Santa Barbara. Offensively, defensively, whatever, they really clicked in the first half, scoring 9 points consecutively after an initial turnover receiving the pull. Some feel that Captain Dugan and his Magic Metal Arm magnetically altered the flight path of the tampered frisbee, preventing errant throws to the opposition, but no evidence has been found.

Sub Zero kept their cool. Down 9-6 at half, they knew that they were playing good Ultimate, but that the Condors had a near-perfect half. Huck for huck, Minneapolis came right back at Santa Barbara in the second stanza. But it was Sub zero's defense that turned the game in their favor. Eric Lonsdorf, Turtle as they call him, became the leader by example.

Sub Zero's offense scored to start the half, and then Turtle became the defensive spark, getting two blocks and enabling Sub Zero to catch up when old Z-mates Joe Cesario and Dave Boardman connected to make it 10-10. He was huge for them– emotionally for the team's psyche and on the field to erase the halftime deficit.

While Sub Zero's defense was hot, their offense became luke-warm. Part of the reason rested with Turtle. He pulled a hamstring on a block up high and couldn't keep playing. When he went out, some of the team's will went with him. Sub Zero got ahead at 13-12, on a connection to Josh Quaas (the same player as Brandon Steets and Brian Huvane), but that would be the last lead they could muster.

The Condors scored quickly to tie at 13s, and then turned a Hollywood d-block into another quick score, 14-13. Going downwind, the Sub Zero offense froze. They failed twice to put it in the endzone and again the Condors scored, this one on a give-and-go huck to JD Lobue, bringing the score to 15-13 and putting the shivers back in Sub Zero.

Finally, Zero stemmed the S.B. run and put one to Dave Boardman, 15-14. The Condors on offense? Late in the game? All money. One simple play call (out of their arsenal of 26) and a few passes later Jason Seidler is streaking to the endzone where the disc awaits his arrival and the Condors have game point, 16-14.

Sub Zero called timeout. They wanted to insure a score on this offensive possession and keep the game alive. But when they got the disc, the Condors came down in a hurry and there was arch-nemesis Hollywood again, getting a foot block on his man. The Condors scored and the game was over.

Note to opposing teams: do not let Hollywood foot block you at the end of games.

"Our offense was on the field four of the last five points, and scored only once. That was the crux," said Steve Steury.

Dugan revealed some of the team's strategies in matching up with Minneapolis, "We changed from zone to play man and switched our mark to play straight-up on the first couple of passes to discourage that early huck," but, he continued, "They owned the sky. We could get nothing on them in the air. Maybe we got 1 out of 10. They played great."

"What we gained from this year's show was a higher level of grit, more determination, and most of all, an understanding of just how good we can be. We won't be going away anytime soon," spoke Steury.

The master and the grasshopper meet. "This should be a good game. They are the defending champs and heavy favourites, [note to Ed. please keep favourites spelled this way as a reflection of their Canadian accent] but we feel confident," said Furious George leader Andrew Lugsdin. "We like to think of ourselves as a very athletic, hard-running D team and we try to use our athleticism against Boston. We have been able to score against them fairly effectively, even though they have an excellent zone, and that's the book on Furious George–come down in zone."

In Sarasota, DoG started games flat while they looked for a spark. This year, they came out and scored the first time they touched the disc nearly every game they played. It is part of DoG's success that they can change their subtleties every year. The 1999 version of DoG was a new and different team. Nine new players were on the field while standbys Bob Lobel, Corky, and Zaz were elsewhere. DoG was hungrier this year, perhaps more juiced than they have ever been since 1994. But this was a year of dangerous competition, and none more dangerous than Furious George.

Death or Glory really wanted this game. In their eyes, this was the tournament. Steve Mooney was back in great shape, playing better than ever and heavily involved in the offense. He provided the honors this game, throwing to Mike Cooper for the first goal of the game.

"I think he picks seven names out of a hallucinogenic haze," said one DoG pup humorously, referring to master Dick Brown, the defensive sub-caller for DoG. On defense, DoG came down in man, and Furious scored. DoG scored right back, deFrondeville to Forch, and then they came out in zone defense and got a turnover. DoG scored, 3-1. Furious worked patiently through the next zone point and scored, then right back, Mooney hung a huck to Forch but sure enough our little hero came down with the disc and hit Parinella to take it to 4-2. DoG then came in a man defense.

"We switch it up so they never get a rhythm. Once the offensive team gets a rhythm, they're going to score often," explains one of DoG's defensive masters, Billy Rodriguez.

Furious worked it up before Lugsdin zipped one up the sideline and Space hit Mike Grant for the score. The next point was a huge uplift for DoG. On a called huck pattern, deFrondeville sent it deep to a well-covered Forch. The Furious player got to the disc first and whacked it up and away. By the good graces of Forch's presence (what a transcendental kid, this Fortunat Mueller. Modest and kind to a fault, blessed by the Gods as Utimate's savior, and brought to fruition by the very hands that many consider to be the bane of the sport, Jon Gewirtz, who taught the young Mueller all about the great game when Forch was a bright-eyed kid in high school. Forch has a lot of respect for Gewirtz, and well he should, for Jonny G is true in the Ultimate sense as anyone and he has provided us with a new legacy of spirit and strength.) the disc tailed away towards Jim 'Bim' Johnston, who dove to the ground with his hand outstretched and was surprised as anyone when it landed in his hand for the goal.

DoG was running their ISO offense which at times looked like a horizontal stack. Furious was doing their typical mad scramble which resembles something close to a Troika carnival ride. Players dash in and out in quick succession while Kirk Savage, Cruickshank, and Lugsdin look for opportunities to hit them in full stride. Part of Furious' success is not being afraid to throw any throw, at any time, and then connecting with it. This does two things: prevents the defense from poaching, and enables fakes to be highly effective. Once the defense is appropriately in tight man coverage, Furious simply out-runs and out-jumps them.

The sidelines were packed with spectators watching the intensity of the game and watching DoG watch Furious pick up momentum. Furious scored to close to 5-4, DoG responded to 6-4, and then Furious went on a tear, converting a DoG drop, then scoring on a Lugsdin huck to Mike Grant who hung in the air for a minute before coming down with the disc. Then Forch, our blessed Forch, sent a huck too long and Furious pounced quickly, sending a huck the other way to Evan Wood to tie the game at 6s.

Furious George is a team of super-athletic kids with no preconceptions of Ultimate and its history. They don't have a Mooney or a TK or a Mike O'Dowd to be able to reflect on the sport in the 70's and 80's. Captain Cruickshank, usually brings a Sony Playstation or a Sega to tournaments. Ultimate is just another game, perhaps a little more realistic. And great 3-D horizontal grabs. I wonder what the button combination is for Shank's favorite throw, the scoober? Hold down A and B like the hammer, spin the joystick 180º and release?

They surged ahead to 8-7. DoG was receiving the disc. Furious got Forch trapped on the sideline with nowhere to go. Al deFrondeville came around for the dump on a high count and Forch hit him right on the sideline. The pressure defense was there and ego Al bobbled the pass out of bounds. Furious took over and four passes later Shank sent it deep to Evan and half belonged to them, 9-7.

The score and surge had shaken DoG. Of that there was no doubt. The leaders started to politely discuss the events of the first half. Parinella and Mooney talked it over with deFrondeville about the drop. Other circles of talk emerged. And then Mooney, like a great wise oak, gathered his followers in a circle under his draping arms and began to speak.

Steve, what did you tell your team at halftime? "Well, I said... I guess it's over. That was a good run while it lasted." Big laughs all around. OK, but what about the second half? "I told them to first of all play a little more zone and secondly, play like this is the last game of your life [which may have carried some weight coming from the elder Mooney, who is always on the edge of retirement.]"

Furious' sideline was all smiles after taking the halftime lead. But they weren't giddy. I asked Lugsdin if he thought DoG was in trouble. "I doubt they're ever back on their heels," he said, "They always know what's going on. These guys are champions for a reason."

Then Shank gathered his team in a huddle and spoke his version of the game, "We have to win this half. You are not getting tired! Run your fucking nuts off! These guys are old. That guy in the endzone–he couldn't catch you with a motorcar. It's all desire."

DoG played only two points of zone in the first half. Furious scored on one of those and turned it over in the other. Hmm, 50%, eh? The second half would be different. DoG started off in man, just to catch Furious off guard. And then the dreaded zone came down and stayed around for as long as it was effective–which was a long time.

Furious can work through a zone. But you know what happens? They are so used to throwing leading passes that only they can run down, that they forget in a zone, you are throwing to a man who is starting from a standing position.

Furious scored to start the half. DoG responded. Then DoG forced a bad hammer in the zone and converted to make it 10-9. Another zone this time, maybe a 1-3-3, and Furious worked it nicely upfield before Shank saw an opportunity and put a hammer in the endzone for a score. DoG received the pull and scored easily. They, at least, had an offensive rhythm going and Furious did nothing to stop it.

Death or Glory tied the game at 11s. But whereas they were in a groove, Furious was still relying on big plays. They could only keep it up for so long. Vancouver scored on a mad Shank hammer to Mike Enns.

Again Furious came down in man. DoG had inserted hucker deFrondeville in the lineup to let one rip. Off the first pass, he did exactly that, to Forch, who made a great grab in the endzone over a man four inches taller than him, and in a rare burst of emotion, showed and spiked the disc towards the defender.

"He's been hacking at my legs all game," said Forch on the sideline, speaking of the Furious defender, Mike Enns. Forch stays quiet about those things and doesn't call fouls. But he'll continue to make the big play. Such a gracious child.

Furious responded, against the zone, when Mike Grant pulled down a big huck trailing out of bounds. He toed the line with one foot and the observer signaled him in. No one in the game does it better than Mike Grant, one of the most athletic players in Ultimate today.

Again, DoG went to the Forch well. All weekend this turned out to be a successful offense for them. Flurry around for a few hard cuts. Bring Forch under, and then send him off for the bomb. It didn't matter that he's giving those 4 or 5 inches to every defender on Furious (against the Houndz, Forch guarded 6'2" Damien Scott) because he always gets a step and he always boxes his player out perfectly and then precisely times his jump. Score, DoG, 13 all.

Like a broken record, Furious scored on a crazy layout grab. Like a broken record, Mooney sent a mid-range missile to Parinella and tie game. Like the record finally broken, Furious sent a pass just a shy long and there was no amazing, totally sick grab this time, and then back to the record again, when Paul Greff, TGPITG (quiet this tournament–he handled a lot) hit Justin Safdie for the return score.

DoG came out hard on defense and marked aggressively and got what they wanted when Shank turfed a forehand. DoG called a timeout and the sidelines swarmed the field in a rush of whoops and whistles. A score here would give DoG a 16-14 advantage in a game to 17.

They checked it back in, got the score and suddenly the momentum, the fervor, the intensity–all of it rides with Death or Glory. Furious was down and out but the game wasn't over yet and if anything, these guys love to play Ultimate.

But it looked to be all over, in fact, when Cruickshank got trapped coming up the line. DoG switched from the successful zone to a man defense and it temporarily confused Furious, enough that Shank's ill-advised crossfield scoober was brought down by not one, but two DoG players, superdefenders John Bar Axon and Lenny Engel. Two passes later DoG dropped the disc, and Furious scored to edge closer at 16-15. Then they called timeout.

Jeez, I don't know, can you ice a player like Forch? He has nerves and guts and has only once, that I've seen him, been completely not in a game. But somehow, someway, he bobbled and dropped a simple 10-yard pass and gave the disc back to Furious with a chance to tie.

Could it be? Could this be the beginning of the end for our fairytale team? Everyone felt the pressure which had suddenly been lifted off Furious and fell like a cloak around DoG. Two drops with two chances to win the game. And Forch, of all people, makes that last one! He dropped the disc at game point! All eyes were on him, watching to see if he would crack.

Furious worked it up patiently while DoG melded into zone. Then there was the Furious player, streaking towards the sideline, splitting the zone, and open, but not enough steam, and Shank's low-flying scorcher wasn't going to air-bounce and hands outstretched and body flat to the turf, Mike Enns, Forch's man, hit horizontal but couldn't make it up to the dirt-bound disc. It was there, but my, Enns had started from standstill and was never going to catch up with that disc, Forch's gift disc. It wasn't his disc to have.

Two passes later that same circle of speed was sailing downfield, high and up and arching towards the endzone where our hero Forch was scrambling for position, scrambling, boxing-out, and then leaping up and out, 45º to the ground, with his eyes always on that disc, and then, finally, the disc came home to where it belonged, in his hand. Down came mighty Forch in the endzone with the disc held high. You think I'm making this up? I tell you the truth, no one else was going to get that! All of DoG knew the game was Forch's to win and win the game he did. The sidelines knew it. And now you know it too.

*******

Mooney gathered DoG into a circle and prophesied the future. "That's called making it exciting, but it's not enough. That was team seven. Now we have team eight. The rest is secondary."

Apostle Parinella testified to the greatness of the fallen opponent, "They were playing awesome for most of it. One guy making way-out six-feet high trailing-edge grabs. You think they can't keep it up forever, but for a while it looked look they would."

Mooney provided a sermon for the defeated, "If I were them, I'd spend the next 364 days practicing zone."

Minister Al gave glory to the individual, himself, "I threw lots of long passes for goals and I'm number 1 [jersey number, of course]."

Furious, now speak: "Our offense is wild and crazy which has benefited us over the last couple of years. We have throwers that can throw it. We do have our problems with letting the player dictate the throw rather than the cut. But it comes time where you have to say lets hold it and control."–Evan Wood.

"Part of it is us. Part of it is having incredible athletes on the team that can bring down the crazy catch. We tend to rely on it. We have come to rely on it." – Kirk Savage

"Too bad we made a couple of "hero" decisions. It cost us the game." –Jeff Cruickshank

Now, for the love of the game, unite. "One thing about this Boston team is that they are the most incredible guys to play," said Andrew Lugsdin

"That guy Cruickshank has been such a great player, had such an awesome game. That guy is hard-core," said John Bar Axon.

Game over? Later on that night, both teams snuck out to lighted fields and played to 21 for a case of beer. Furious won.

FINALS

Showtime.

"I've been thinking about it all year," says Steve Dugan, "since the last point of the game last year, I haven't stopped thinking about it. I can still picture it in my mind, Mooney jumping over the line and catching that goal, and thinking that we had that game. We coulda won that game."

But what to do this year? "I don't know–defending champions–they're always tough. We know that from college," spoke Hollywood, "We'll have to play our best to have a chance. The key is going to be forcing them into mistakes, which is hard to do. We are going to try and figure them out, solve them."

Continued Hollywood, "It looks like Forch is their big weapon, so we'll key in on him. We saw him at worlds, in semis and he caught like nine or ten goals. So we'll respect him."

Boston, for their part, stayed somewhat quiet about the Condors. They focused on victory and had few fears or worries about Santa Barbara, even though the last two times they fought it was anyone's game. Death or Glory was focused and in the Finals, where they are comfortable and supremely confident.

"No more, no less than ever," whispered Nathan Wicks to Forch at the start of the game. And no more, no less than ever meant our Hero had only to be himself. He was called into the starting lineup and became the receiver of the first goal of the last Finals of the century. And maybe the last goal of the game, just maybe, was going to come his way. You had that sense.

The Condors opened up rusty, Seidler couldn't connect with Pepe. But they got the disc back and the other 00 on the field besides Mooney, James Studarus, found Taro Ramberg with a score. Then another DoG mistake and Seidler got a d-block and Gavigan and Yarbrough hooked up for the score. The Condors, who had pulled to start, were up 2-1, and then 3-2 when Mooney couldn't hit Forch, guarded by 6'1" Mike Namkung. Three DoG mistakes in their first five possessions.

Then it was all cash money for Death or Glory, and no one was more involved than... the sidelines. Super screamer Jeff "Dick" Brown patrolled one sideline with his trusty Dick Trickle hat, getting his team involved, and then calling the defense when DoG scored.

DoG was all man defense to start, but sure enough they started mixing it up, throwing in the 1-3-3 zone or the 2-3-2 (which is the same as a 3 cup, 2 middle, 2 deep). They did not bring the Clam, in fact, or their newest hodgepodge, called Stinky, but they did manage to mix up the man, switching from force backhand to a straight-up (or faceguard) and back again. Whatever they could do to throw a wrench in the Condors' precision offense.

Soon enough, with a Condors turnover coming every 3-4 points, and a DoG score everytime they touched the disc, the game shifted permanently in favor of Death or Glory. A Mooney huck to Forch is a little short on distance, but Forch reads it and pulls it out of the sky for a 6-5 DoG lead.

The Condors stayed calm, while nine DoG players, decked in ugly pseudo-futuristic high-contrast mauve uniforms, stood as sentinels on each sideline as the directions came from Brown, "we gotta win the war of the voice!" And then all of them, all eighteen not in the game, would rush the field after a score.

At 7-6, the Condors receiving, Seidler was unable to come down with a huck from Studarus and DoG capitalized, Billy Rodriguez to Taka Honda. It wasn't an easy score for Billy. Sean Federbush noticed that DoG wasn't responding to aggressive marking. So he tried to force the issue by marking Rodriguez hard when he was trapped on the sideline. But Billy, we must be reminded, played with NYNY for five years. Getting hacked or attacked at practice was part and parcel of the program.

The Condors worked it up through the zone defense and scored, Federbush to Brandon Steets. Studarus kept the zone on its heels with scoober and hammer fakes, and because he has such a delayed release on his throws, his fakes work every time. The defense can never quite tell when he is going to release the damn thing. He led the way through the zoned minefield like a seasoned military man. Age and rank? 23, sir, and Lieutenant.

Everyone knows that when you play against Boston, you cannot make mistakes. They have honed their game to near perfection over 20 years of play. DoG expects you to make mistakes and they will capitalize on those mistakes. I learned this first hand playing with a New York splinter team in 1997. You don't make mistakes against DoG and win.

Well, no time is a good time, and Finals is the worst time of all, and just before half ain't pretty. But it seemed such an anti-climactic thing. So the pull crossed out of bounds at the 10 yard line and then drifted away on its own recourse like a renegade hurricane? It didn't seem like a big play, but it was. The half ended when DoG scored easily after getting the disc 10 yards out. It deflated the Condors and DoG took the half by two at 9-7.

Condors Halftime talk: "Mark hard. They are not calling it. We want the momentum back on our side, so let's rev up the sidelines. No game is ever won in the first half!"

DoG dallied for 2 minutes, then went to find some shade, relax, grab a mint julep, maybe jot down a quick poem. Break out the kooshball, do some pushups, talk about Bill Bradley, maybe read a few chapters from "Sacred Hoops."

Then back to the field of action. Dick Brown was setting it straight, "an hour and a half of focus!!"

The Condors received the disc, but oh no, Safdie got a point block on Steets! But wait, Studarus got it back five passes later, stalling Paul Greff (did I mention that Greff handled a lot? and you know what – he was open by 10 yards every time) But then, oh me oh my, Studarus and Seidler cannot connect again, a misread, James sends it deep and there's no one there. A phantom throw to a phantom receiver. And then DoG scored and then there was one Harmony under Big Ego Ultimate and no more shall the disc leave the hands of Glory or Glory and this game and this season were now one and six years of perfection were going to mean something greater than five years of dominance.

But I am jumping the gun. This game was far from over at 10-7, DoG, but the time for turnovers had ended for Boston.

Not that the Condors didn't continue to try to force them, and try harder than ever. Again Federbush marked Billy hard and fouled Billy, but again Billy threw a score. "What other teams do rarely changes our game," said Billy on the sideline. And then Greff and James started to tangle and emotions got the best of everybody. The Condors received the disc and Safdie got some bodying back, on Hollywood, but yet the Condors scored. And then Testosterone Man (a misnomer for Parinella perhaps) got up in the endzone and DoG swarmed the field, "yeah, yeah yeah!" and then Studarus and Federbush fell prey to a miscommunication and DoG converted the turnover and surrounded the field and it was no longer anyone's game in the second half. It was DoG's game.

12-8. The Condors regrouped, and Gavigan found Hollywood with a bomb through the zone. And Death or Glory? They were concerned, faces twisted – there are no free points given, no cushion in this game, no resting up, it was an hour and a half of focus and they, the opposition, scored and that was not good.

It could have gone either way. It should have gone to the Condors, in fact, but that huck from Stefan (of all people!) just hung up there for Forch and he got the disc over Seidler. It's not always about Forch. He called on the great father, the sun, to temporarily blind his opponent and the heavens responded.

"When I looked up–one thing I didn't count for was the sun. I looked for the disc and I couldn't see it. I just threw my hand up and he made a pretty great grab," said Seidler. Actually, Forch made an awesome grab. Seidler was in position and his hand was right there. But Forch jumped early, and then suspended himself above Jason until the disc came into contact.

That grab he made... it reminded me of someone I've played with and against. Someone like Forch, built like a cornerback, impeccable at timing jumps, out-jumping opponents, hanging in the air like Michael Jordan. I went over to Kenny Dobyns and said, "Ken, does that grab remind you of anyone?" and Kenny smiled and said, "It reminds me of Fortunat."

See, what did I tell you? Raised by Gewirtz, blessed by Dobyns, adopted by DoG and soon he would be on his way towards the "reverse trifecta"–Worlds, then Nationals, then College Nationals. If he can handle all this epic, ego-stroking press coverage, that is.

The Condors were shaken but the sidelines were still buzzing with excitement. Taro whizzed a flat hammer over the DoG zone for a score to make it 13-10. DoG used the old veterans to put the next one home, as Coop connected with Jeremy Seeger to go up 14-10.

And then Billy got one back. Marking Federbush, he got the count up high and Federbush was forced to throw a deep swing. The pass hung in the air and Greff came charging like a rhino to intercept and then Greff got it back to Billy for the honors and Billy obliged, finding Safdie in the endzone with a topper.

One turnover, Santa Barbara, and one more point Boston. That was DoG's sixth goal in a row. Only two more to go in a game to 17. But the Condors would not roll over. Not their style. Studarus, another blessed Ultimate child, helped the Condors speed through a man defense before uncorking one to Gavigan.

DoG stayed disciplined and right back, 16-11, they scored, Mooney to Parinella. Effective, clean offense. Good fakes, precise throws, no wasted cuts, hard-running comebacks. One more point to go, the game was waning but the action never. DoG came in a zone and Taro zipped another flat hammer over the top to Gavigan who finger-tipped it and came down and then threw it up the sideline for a score. Never say die.

Like last year, the Condors came in zone for the game's final point. DoG worked it slowly, baited the deep man, caught the wing, Seeger, open on the sideline, got the disc and there he was, our hero, wide open and running hard.

We all know what happened next. There was nothing, absolutely nothing fancy about it. #8 Fortunat Mueller ran to the back cone and Jeremy Seeger threw him the disc. He was wide-open. He caught it. The game was over. That was all. The game was over and the final point of the century belonged to our Hero.

******

It was time for celebration. Out came the champagne, the bottled beers, a birthday cake, cameras, trophies, little kids in costumes, wives, mothers, fans, friends, Fury, and that warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you watch moments of abandon and joy. The tournament had ended and it was 75 degrees and the sun was shining. It was Halloween and it was only a treat for Boston. The fans started to depart. Players drifted off. The tent came down. The TV cameras were never there, no fireworks, or post-game interviews with Jim Gray. Our hero was not going to ride in an convertible limousine down Wicker street tomorrow. In fact, he had an 11am test. But he was going to miss that. It was time, now, to just be.

"I often feel like I jump too early... like over here on my first turnover I jumped too early," spoke Forch, "I feel like I have a lot to learn, and if I play with these guys I'll keep getting better." An Achilles heel? He jumps too early? If only I could jump so early. And truthfully, folks, Forch meant it. He is a quiet man and modest when he speaks. But my god, don't think he doesn't have the arrogance, ego, and confidence to be a superstar! He has all those things. But he has the balance and moderation to keep himself focused, calm, kind, and taciturn.

"This is the best team I've ever seen," said Mooney.

So what was it that brought this team together to win this tournament for the sixth year running? We know that in 1994, Jim Parinella declared the Championship as "one of six." Perhaps Parinella, more than anyone else, wanted the title of 'Best Team Ever' to be Boston's legacy. But what of the others, the nine new players on the team? What were they looking for?

"One of the first things I said to the team was that we are not going for our sixth national title. We are going for our first," explained Mooney, "Second thing I said was that are no individuals here. It is a team. Everybody is going to participate, and everybody has greatness in them."

Continued Mooney, "I told them 'I used to make 10 plays a game, now I make one per tournament, and you guys better cheer for me. And that goes for every guy – not everyone plays great every point, but everyone has at least one great moment.' None of this is a secret. If you read Phil Jackson it's the same language."

"At a certain level there's a belittling of your opponent, trying to break him down. We try to get away from that. Honor competition, but remember, it is your opponents who make it possible for you to rise. So if you take your opponents apart, that hurts you," says Phil Jackson.

"DoG is everything we want to be right now. DoG is the team we're paying our dues for it seems. DoG is the team that is gonna beat us down and let us walk away feeling like we got a shot every time," said Jason Seidler afterwards.

And now some from Billy Rodriguez, "Maybe I helped teach these guys how to win because they were great all along. There's a lot of strategic stuff I've brought for the defense. I'm calm in tight situations and I know how to step up. Until you've done it once or twice you're afraid to step it up and make the great play and go get the pass and you wait for someone else to do it. They taught me how to do that in New York."

Mooney again, "I think the single biggest catalyst to our success today was the victory in Scotland [Worlds]. Sixteen guys went, only eleven of the guys here. We had no expectations, in fact we thought we were gonna get killed. And we won."

Some more from the Great Oak, "The fact that I won six titles, sure–but hey, I've lost 16. If you look at the numbers, I suck. Just so happens that we're on a winning run. I think the thing I appreciate more is that me, at my age, I can contribute. It's great that we have records but I really like being on the field when it happens. It may sound selfish, but I thank my health and I've been fortunate."

And what of Forch? Yeah, I tried to track him down, find out more what he's made of, get some juicy quotes. But you know what, I think I got it all down here and its going to be alright. If I can just hang with him on paper, I'll be happy.

This was quite the humdinger. I got in trouble for writing something so damned long for the Newsletter and effectively never wrote for the UPA again. Certainly this sucker is too long. If I had more time back then I could have culled it down. Everyone up in the Boston area razzed Forch for years afterwards and wondered aloud if we had some sort of relationship (not the case, natch). This piece was my attempt at getting beyond the typical sports journalism and pushing for a new kind of involved coverage. Forch happened to be a perfect fit for what I was after.

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