The Best Game Ever Played II

So, no questions answered today, that'll be next post. Right now I just feel like giving everybody the update.

There was a frisbee game I played a few weeks ago that I never got to write about. It was the most amazing game that I've ever played, and I dont know how i managed to get by without writing about it. Well, here it is, something I should have done a long time ago.

It was about 10 O'clock PM, it was cold outside, but not bitter quite yet. Off to the North, thunderclouds were forming, and streaks of lightning could be seen in the distance. Back at base, the wind was calm, no rain, no lightning, but the clouds all seemed red. It was eerily serene, and we knew something must be afoot. The past 2 games had both been shutouts. Both times one of the newbie seniors was captain, and brad was the other. The newbies all picked each other, and brad assembled a dream team both times, it was a rout. Hardly worth playing, the outcome was predetermined.

The 3rd game promised to be better. We had decent captains, and the teams stacked up pretty even. The bad guys had Andrew, Brad, Walker, and a few more I can't remember. My team had me, little Selck, Bouy, another old guy, Brady, and Benji. The teams looked great, we had enough for subs, and so the game started, just like any other game.

My team didn't have any clear leadership, and so anarchy ruled for the first couple plays. First guy to sit was Brady, and he was our second best guy. Next guy out was Bouy, our best guy. Next was little Selck, and then after him our other old man. We never had our best players all on the field together until way late in the game, and by that time, it looked like all was lost.

Somehow, it was 8-1, in favor of the bad guys. We were discouraged, but we knew we weren't beat yet. We finally got our guys in, and leadership arose. Whether it was me, or Brady, or whoever, leadership came in, and our brains kicked on. We knew we were down 7, we knew the bad guys had us on the run, but we figured out how to beat them. With out players stacked the way we wanted them, our team finally had the depth it needed from the bench, and we began to actually play the game for the first time.

The first time we scored surprised us alot, we weren't expecting it. We decided to pull it up the field real slow, and wait for the openings. The bad guys were playing relaxed, and we just slipped it right in, 8-2.

They figured out that we were finally going to play, so they picked it up a bit, and the next point was in their favor, 9-2.

rejuvenated by our recent realization that we weren't all fat and worthless, we started pushing it hard, and took it to 5-12. We were finally in the game, even if it was just barely. The bad guys needed 4 points to win, we needed a good 10. All light was far gone by this point, we were playing off of the floodlights, but the red clouds still looked down on us, pushing the underdogs on.

And then, we broke like mad. We went on an 8-1 scoring run, bringing it to 13's a piece. I honestly don't know quite how it happened. Me, Bouy, and the other old guy just started taking it up short, and they didn't know how to stop us. Twice I was in the top right corner, and just had a nice and easy toss in to old man for the touch down. They couldn't protect our short game, they didn't have the energy or the brains for it, and so we capitalized.

We knew that we had them scared now. They had given up a 7 point lead, and a guaranteed shutout to let us tie it, 2 points from the win. Every time we scored, we'd huddle before the pull, and we knew the air around us was electric. It was tense. We knew that we couldn't let it go, that if we gave up even one point they could put us in a ninja headlock that we'd never get out of. It was do or die for us, and we knew that it was do or die for them.

At 13-13, play starts to get fierce. It brings out the very best and worst of all the players on the field. When you make a good play, you know it, and your heart goes wild. When you screw up, it's one of the very worst feelings you've ever had. You've invested so much into the game, it hurts to lose it. Your legs hurt, your hands are getting hashed from catching, swatting, and throwing. Your lung hurt from the cold air, your breath comes out hard and short, and very frosty. But you know why you're in the game, and you know that you want to win. You put everything out there. This is when Frisbee gets real.

Brad had the disc 15 yards out from our endzone, and Andrew was cutting across the front of the endzone. I was playing man on Andrew, but he had good position on me, it'd be tough. Brad got the disc off with a pretty flick, chest height, pretty quick. Andrew was ready for it, but I busted out some mad speed, and knocked it down, the best moment of my life. Thinking to myself, I knew that if I let that through it'd be almost impossible for us to win, I felt pretty cool.

Then, Andrew bear hugged me, and I thought he was gonna break me. He didn't hurt me at all, but there was that rage in his eye, and for a minute, I was really afraid. Andrew is a great guy, but he hates to lose. I had just taken glory from him, He had it inches from his hands. He would have made it 14-13, taken away our momentum, and made us fear again. As it was, he couldn't do those things, but he could sure make me want to wet myself.

So, I yelled at him not to touch me, and he let me down eventually. He got pretty mad cause I yelled at him, but I figured it was alright to do when he was in a position where he could have wailed on me. So, we brushed it off, and play continued. Disc was down, so my team took control.

I'm not sure how we did it, but somehow we made it 14-13. I don't remember any details, but we scored, and we knew that right then, the bad guys faced humiliation. They had been 8-1, confident, heads high, on top of the world, and they had stumbled. Covering his fear, Brad proposed the "win by 2" rule, and we all accepted. It was go time.

The pull was up, and they scored alot faster than we should have let them. They totally school us, and we got that familiar fear back in our navels. Their kick was up, and we, through powers not our own, scored. 15-14.

That's generally the end point, all games run to 15. But, we were playing win by 2, you couldn't win if you were just up by one. And so, play continued, just like it always had. Our legs hurt more, our breath was shallower, it was colder, our hands were number, but the game continued.

They scored, tying it. We scored, pulling ahead. They scored, we made a mistake, they pulled a head. We scored, then rushed another point in quick to pull ahead. It went on like that, over and over again.

The game progessed, both teams fighting. One for glory, and another to avoid humiliation. If we won, we'd remember it always, the time that we beat the impossible, and slew the dragon. If they won, they wouldn't have to live with knowing they let their 8-1 lead go. Either way, we knew the game was epic. Eternal bragging rights awaited the winner, but neither of us could win.

It was nearing 12 O'clock. We had been playing straight for 2 hours. Our subs had long gone home, so it was the same 7 guys on each team booking it up and down the field. Time slowed down, the red twilight stayed the only constant. The air, once electric, was now heavy. We were fighting for life, even though it seemed to be leaving us. We had to play on, it was our destiny, but we all knew it had to end soon.

It was tied around 19, and the seniors started saying that they'd all be killed if they weren't home by 12. The old guard wanted to stay, they would have played all through saturday to sunday if they had to. My team decided that if it was still tied at 21, we'd call it a tie. The otehr team never really agreed to it, but that was the way it had to be.

And so it was, we played our hearts out, and they tied it at 21. 21 to 21, the longest game I've ever played, and hardest game, the highest stakes, and the best game ever. 42 kick offs, 42 touchdown passes. 42 touchdown catches. Innumerable turnovers, amazing saves, and spectacular swats. The game will never be forgotten.

Glory aside, my body was spent. Andrew wanted to stay around and talk to his buddies, so I bundled up with everything I had and tried to wait, but my whole body shook. I was shivering, but this was shivering on steroids. Honestly, my whole body was just shaking uncontrollably. After some time Andrew noticed this, and decided we had to go home. We drove home, and when I stood up from the van I could hardly walk. I hobbled into the house like an old man. My bloodsugar was 46, definitely too low. So I ate, then fell on the couch. When I say fall, I do not mean it metaphorically. My Grandpa could walk better than I could, and he uses a walker. All my muscles hurt, and I was still shivering. I shivered for more than 30 minutes, could hardly walk, but somehow I made it to bed, and the night was over. The night had been epic, one never to be forgotten.

Eternal glory wasn't awarded to anybody that night, but both of us deserved it. 14 men, fighting with all that they've got, that is what dreams are made of. The air has since lost it's voltage, and life has returned to normal. I haven't played frisbee since, and my life has felt empty. I'm sure you all think I'm a nut for feeling this way, but I love frisbee. Do I love it more than my family? No, but boy do I love it. Someday, I'm going to be amazing. Someday I'm gonna be the guy to go to in the clutch, the guy that everybody looks to for leadership, the guy that when he says there's gonna be frisbee this friday, everyone shows up, because they know it's gonna be good.

Am I chasing a stupid dream with all this frisbee business? Maybe. Am I going to play frisbee in college like I want to? Probably not, but good crap, I'm gonna try.