Ramon Lopez goes to DF; Ultimate can save the world...

I got back to Xalapa from DF this morning just before two. When I woke up just six hours later, I was in probably the most satisfying amount of total body pain I've ever had to endure in my life. After a weekend of playing eight, hour long, ultimate frisbee games there's nothing better than walking around with a forced limp and a hunched back until someone approaches and asks "Wow dude, what did YOU do this weekend?" To which I can then respond, "O, me, nothing besides playing a bunch of Ultimate." I'm the first one to admit that there's a whole list of much more impressive answers to this question. O well.

After a six hour bus ride, an hour on the Metro, and an hour wandering aimlessly around the world's most populated city, we arrived to where we would spend the night. Tired from the day of traveling and in anticipation for waking up the next morning at five, we hit the hay minutes after we arrived. The next morning we arrived to the main registration tent at the tournament and began to sign in. As a last-minute (I found out about the tourney two days before, at my first practice with the team) addition to the University of Veracruz Halcones, or Falcons, my name was nowhere to be found on the official list of registered team members. Without thinking, but with knowing who all from the team would be showing up for the tourney, my friend Miriam jumped in and said "There he is!" The guy behind the table (g.b.t.t) answered in disbelief, "Are you sure? but I thought..." until Miriam interrupted saying "Yea, yea, I'm sure." Not interested in prolonging the futile argument the g.b.t.t. reluctantly nodded his head and wrapped the paper bracelet around my wrist, solidifying that I was in. Only problem: for the weekend, I would have to get used to answering to the name Ramon Lopez.

With 17 teams in the tournament, each would play at least eight games, the exact amount depending on how far it advanced in Sunday's playoffs. Some of the teams, like ours and the one hosting the tournament, were from local universities, while others were community teams. All teams were co-ed, some with players as old as 60 and as young as nine. Truly, a sport for all.

As new as the sport of Ultimate is in the US, it's even newer here. Thanks to this, games adopt the feeling of joint-team practices. Throughout, time is called for the sole purpose of allowing a player from one team to clarify a rule to a player from the 'opposing' team. After every game, in addition to the generic post-game practice of lining up and mumbling "good game" to members of the other team, the two teams sit in a circle and spend maybe 15 minutes talking about highlights of the game. Each team's captain has a chance to make general comments on the other team's play, after which, discussion is opened up to the group.

It could be said that such a tradition would be expected in such a new sport. However, considering the general spirit of Ultimate, I'd bet it remains as core to the game as its few, fundamental rules. For instance, as opposed to basically any other official sport imaginable, the only refs are the players themselves. Obviously, for this to work each player has to maintain a certain level of respect for the sport's rules but also for the other players. In a sport founded on trust and respect in all players on the field, Ultimate doesn't feel like just another sport destined to conform to our societal emphasis placed on having two groups of people compete, displaying occasional respect for the game's rules and regulations, until a victor emerges. Of course, every game of Ultimate produces a winning and a losing team. But, instead of just instilling in its players a sense of respect for the rules of the game, Ultimate forces players to develop a more personal respect for every one of both team's players.

It's often argued that a society like ours will always be condemned to participating in, and often initiating, warfare as long as our past times, football in modern day US, gladiator matches in Ancient Rome, consist of pinning two groups against each other in less devastating, but equally contrived, displays of their level of skill in forcefully defeating the other. Whether or not this argument is totally fair I can confidently say that our world would look quite differently (in a good way) if Ultimate replaced football and rugby as every country's primary sports. I mean, a society can only be so aggressive when it encourages people to get together, throw frisbees, graciously give advice to one another on their playing style and afterwards, to sit in a circle to congratulate each other on a game well played. Can you imagine? O yea you can.