Good thing I chose not to swim Tuesday morning. I needed every ounce of energy for the two games of Summer League that night! Unlike the previous week where we had upwards of twelve men, only six showed up last night. Along with the rest of the team, I played savage (no subsittutes) the entire night. Shoot me now.
Since Rachel had to work, we were faced with the reality of playing down against Cici's team, which was quite stacked with Monte and Whit, quite possibly the most complete female player in Charlotte. Both Travis and Steve were walking wounded the entire night; our "Seven Minute Abs" team was rounded off with JB, Short, and Kai.
I think everyone on the field was genuinely surprised that we went up 8-6 at the half! I don't remember exactly what we were doing right, but I did catch a couple of points in this game. Before the half I was swinging wide in the endzone and would have been quite short, but Whitney errantly knocked my disc well into the air and I came out with the score. I *may* had made a big deal out of this, which was probably unnoticeable given the mammoth-sized egos of Monte and Cici. I later felt bad because I have a lot of respect for Whitney. I kept getting placed on Monte as well. Funny thing, my first few years I couldn't tell the difference between Greg and Monte. Marking an accomplished handler is usually a waste of energy, but at least it cut down on the deep running.
Lisa made her usual halftime appearance. Unfortunately our opponents really put the screws down on us, and late in the game hammered out five or six straight points. We even chose to end a little early, as we wanted to win the war. Besides, the less I have to hear Cici complain (yes, the second one was tenacious D) the better.
Following that loss we moved our rag-tag team across the way and had to remain in dark shirts for our next opponent. We were very well matched with Des' team most of the way, trading points well past the halfway mark. By this time the sun was burning bright on the horizon and causing some havoc - I had one very notable drop. The real stinker was our only real shot at a two point play (cross gender huck from midfield or back). I was involved (so obviously I was the recipient) swinging across from the always amazing Lisa A. Unfortunately for our team I had misjudged the skill level of my defender (and it was a face I knew well). I pull down another catch for our team, and ended the night with four pulls total. I seem to recall only one was terrible. That was stellar given I didn't have an opportunity to throw before the games start (this makes a huge difference!). I handled very shakingly, never flicking. Once again, this can be remedied but I misjudged the traffic coming down Tryon. Rachel did actually show up in time to play some points (Travis was completely out by then) but that was another game in the L column. I was just completely beat, my feet hurt particularly bad.
I then went back to my car in my cleats (despite being ridiculed last week and having TWO opportunities to get my sandals from home beforehand), I decided to definitely hit Moosehead despite being so utterly destroyed. I drove home in my socks and quickly changed, making sure to grab some sunglasses Steve left in my chair last week. The crowd and experience was fun - I was at the end of table and had a good opportunity to talk with Rachel and Steve. My two favorite people who I just LOVE were also there, but they were pleasant to deal with off the field. In fact, I talked some to Cici about playing disc golf. Apparently JB is into it, along with Steve. JB told me today he recognized from the MAP triathlon in 2007. Thus the word spread that I was an Ironman! In reality, I felt like I wanted to go home and sleep. Yeah, free beer and a rather great chicken sandwich. Home. tired. later.
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