Ultimate Satire

A couple weeks ago, I had to write a sports paper.  So I read a chapter of a book on sports writing, but then I also read the next chapter: humor writing.  With both of those influences being tossed around my mind, this paper emerged.  As soon as I told my sister Carrie about it, she brought up Paul.  She was totally write right; as soon as I realized I wanted it to be sarcastically funny, I subconsciously channeled my inner Paul

So, this is for you, Paul

Ultimate Frisbee, commonly shortened to the creative “Ultimate,” is an increasingly popular sport among both millennials and their parents.  Scientists are investigating how this unique phenomenon exists, and advertising agencies are altruistically pouring millions of dollars into the research—for the good of the cause, of course.

I’ve only played Ultimate twice, and that was many months apart, so, in reality, I’ve simply played for the first time twice.  For this reason, you can rest assured that I know everything that there is to know about the game and never get confused during changes of possession.  Ever.

I played most recently with a group of people who ranged in age from twelve to mid-fifties, but the most influential players were surprisingly the young men in their teens to mid-twenties.  The rest of us merely blocked and distracted the other team to the best of our abilities, occasionally catching the frisbee in a complete and honest accident that had a good chance of helping the opposing team.

Understanding Ultimate is really quite simple: it is the monster that emerged when your buddy Jared rolled over the group’s only football in his Mack truck but then tried to pretend you could still play football with the flattened remains.  Of course, with those guys in charge of coming up with the rules, nobody should be surprised that we’re left playing an anarchist football in which you can only run if you don’t have the ball, and where downs have been exiled to the frozen wasteland of the hearts of NFL coaches.  Thus, you still want to get a touchdown, but you have to make approximately 17 ½ passes between the same 4 guys to get it downfield, which can take upwards of 10 minutes or less.

Of course, the defending team enjoys this new and improved football: to claim possession of the frisbee, they don’t need to intercept it with skill and dexterity and suspense, but instead merely need nimbly hit it out of the air with as much brute force as possible, accompanied with macho yells intended to terrify their victim.

According to the UORTDE (Unofficially Official Rulebook That Doesn’t Exist), from the moment the defending player (who now goes on the offensive in the name of disgracing consistency and order and all things holy) touches the frisbee again, it is in play and must be thrown frantically in five seconds by the other team’s count.  For this reason, the possessing player often merely hovers over the downed disc, letting his teammates get in a better position as the opposing team circles him hungrily, waiting for its moment to strike and then probably howl at the moon.

As this explanation has probably inspired you to join your local Ultimate league as fast as humanly possible, I will leave you with the wisest, most universally applicable advice ever screamed at the top of a player’s lungs in pure terror during the game:

“Watch out for Eric!”


31 Replies to “Ultimate Satire”

  1. YES SQUID! I’m so proud hahah. I played Ultimate Frisbee in university for intramurals. The game was exhausting because the length of the “field” was the entire gym which was 4 gyms in 1. I’m out of breath just remember it. You channeled your inner Paul very well in this!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Exactly!! 😂😂😂 My mom was like, “I’m not sure you should keep that in because people don’t understand the context” and I was like, “that’s the point!” James screaming it is still one of my favorite memories, hahahaha

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I fail at regular frisbee (thanks, deficient hand-eye coordination), so I don’t think my disc-tossing skills will improve in Ultimate. It does sound like a fun, crazy, frantic time. I’m guessing from precious comments that the “Eric” exclamation is an inside joke – the best kind of joke, of course.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hahaha don’t worry, I think a good majority of people fail at frisbee in general… It’s so different than any other sport!
      Lol yeah, Eric was coming up behind the guy who was about to catch the frisbee, and James, who had thrown the frisbee or was just observant, channelled his inner teenage girl and shrieked that. It cracked me up mid-game, hahaha. Emily was there too, so she knew the context, but I think it’s almost funnier in a shock sense when you have no idea what it means. XD


      1. “[I]t’s almost funnier in a shock sense when you have no idea what it means.” <= So true! My sister and I have built this on-going verbal story for 8+ years, so have many lines that we throw into conversation and instances when we exchange knowing looks when someone has mentioned a "buzzword" that would make no sense unless you were familiar with our little game. (Some of our family knows bits and pieces, but it would take hours and hours to explain it in its entirety.)

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Love 🙂 I love Ultimate, and I love your description of it even more. “You can only run if you don’t have the ball, and downs have been exiled to the frozen wasteland of the hearts of NFL coaches.” YESSSSS.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Haha, I do that all the time. And usually the line that gets people was one I didn’t really mean to be anything special – and the line I put in bold italics with larger font and underlined because I think it’s so stinking funny… yeah, no one comments on that one! Ha!

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Ah, yes, ultimate is such a great game. Funny thing is (not really funny), the youth at our church used to love playing it every week, but within the last 5 or 6 years they’ve lost interest. Hopefully that will change and it will make a comeback again!

    Liked by 1 person

        1. Haha oooh, I think you’re one of this first people to ask about that! Umm my real name is Sydney, and I had/have (she’s a missionary in Nicaragua rn) a best friend who is/was amazing at giving nicknames. So, one day probably 5 years ago, she dubbed me Squid and it has forever stuck. Like, every account I ever make is “squidtea” now. I just embraced it, haha!
          What about “Dutch Lion”?

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Good stuff Sydney! I like it. Squid is fun. I’m Reid but I go by “Dutch Lion” because I’m 50% Dutch. My dad was 100% Dutch (Dutch-American). I think our family moved over here to the US in the 1800s. Anyway, I became a big fan of the Dutch national soccer team and got a tattoo. Then I started writing a couple years ago and decided to go with it. It’s fun. Thanks for asking!

            Liked by 1 person

                1. Aww, thanks! Haha I might have disabled the Like button for pages… Whoops!
                  I liked yours too! I love the different stories God weaves for each of us… Each tailored to the specific way he made us. For these reasons, About pages are awesome 🙂

                  Liked by 1 person

Any Comments?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: