The Ultimate College Experience

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DAY 497: “This is probably the Vancouver experience,” David Sebastian said as we got ready for the activity of the day.  The activity at hand was the quintessential Vancouver sport of Ultimate, a.k.a. Frisbee Football, where each of two teams advances a plastic disc towards its end zone in hopes that Janet Jackson’s boob will pop out at half-time.

“Have you played before?” my host asked me.

“Yeah, I love Ultimate,” I answered.  “I used to play in high school.  I got an A plus, the only time I ever got an A plus in gym.”

“When was the last time you played?”

“In Tanzania.”

Playing in Tanzania was a casual friendly game with locals and ex-pats, and no one really cared about winning or losing—just how we played the game.  This was a bit different in Vancouver where David Sebastian was captain of a team in the Vancouver Ultimate League (VUL), a competitive collection of teams, each with quirky gimmicks and names like in the movie Dodgeball.  Our team:  “The King’s Pirates”—as in David Sebastian King (his last name).  Our gimmick:  talking like swashbucklers of the sea. 

ARRRRR!

In fact, Captain King had pink uniform t-shirts made up for his Ultimate crew, printed with a crowned skull and crossbones above the word “ARRRRR!”

“Peach, not pink,” he said.  (It was the cheapest color he could find.)

With my peach t-shirt on, I was already a member of the team as a substitute, which was a good thing because some players of the team couldn’t make the game in the beginning and we needed subs anyway so that players could alternate between the game field and the sidelines to rest. 

“Have you played before?” teammate Kelly asked me as she was tossing a Frisbee back and forth for practice.

“I got an A plus in high school Ultimate.”

“When was the last time you were in high school?”

“Uh, it’s been a while.”

It doesn’t matter, I thought.  We’re all amongst friends here.  It should be fun. But later I learned that these were not Captain King’s regular friends, but a random band of lads and lassies of varying skill levels put together at random (like all of the teams), to work out their differences and learn to work like a team.  All of them expected me to have some sort of skill, especially with my A plus of a former life.

“These are my Ulti-mateys,” Captain King said.  Amongst the members of the team were skillful beginner Kelly, fast and furious Ancilla, speedy Gene, smartly intense Jackie, 31-going-on-22 Mel, Captain King, and me—clinging onto a former high school glory like Al Bundy on Married With Children. Everyone was in uniform and gearing to go pirate style; even the idea of getting eye patches was made, but having no depth perception in a game of Ultimate probably wasn’t a good idea.

For me, I think I was more excited about the prospect of talking like a pirate a whole 203 days before International Talk Like A Pirate Day, than actually playing the game.  The pirate exclamations started with our opening huddle cheer as we held our hands on the disc and rotated it around (picture above) yelling in escalating volume:  “P, Q, ARRRRR!  P, Q, ARRRRR!!!  P, Q, ARRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!”

I learned fast that competitive Ultimate really has nothing to do with pirate lingo at all, but a lingo all its own.  Suddenly the team was yelling crazy foreign phrases like “Pop up!” “Cut!” and “I need a dump!”

I need a dump?

“Erik you’re a popper.  Me and you, we have to bounce, this way.  Like a triangle,” Mel told me.  “You can’t stay in sidelines, ‘cause then they have nowhere to go.”

Huh?

This wasn’t high school Ultimate at all.  Mel, Jackie, and Captain King tried to coach me, but it was all in one ear and out the other.  What about talking the pirate talk?!  Like “Shiver me timbers!” “Walk de plank, matey!” and “ARRRRRR!!” But it was all plays and jargon with dumps and pops and confusing phrases of that nature: 

“Gender across!”

“[You have to block that side] because then you clear half the field.”

“We’re poppers.  Our job isn’t to score, it’s to tire them out.”

Et cetera, et cetera. 

“Did you get all that?” Captain King asked me.

My head was spinning with the barrage of new terms.  First things first.  “Uh… so you’re name is Dave, huh?”

The opposing team, named Urine Trouble, soon took the lead and it was evident they were the stronger team, even without a uniform.  Every time they’d score in the end zone, they’d yell “You’re in!”—which of course sounds like “Urine!” —and the urine gimmick continued whenever we’d score; a little Urine Trouble kid would come over with a bottle of what looked like piss for us to drink.  Rumor had it that it was actually beer, but I warned it was probably beer that they pissed in.  ARRRRR!

We played two games that tiring afternoon, first with Urine Trouble and then with FIVE™, who were both better than us band of pirate misfits.  On the field, I ran around like a chicken with its head off, following my “marker.” Ancilla, a short little Asian gal, yelled at me a couple of times for being in the wrong place.  Clearly I wasn’t worthy of another A plus—more like a D minus.  I can’t even tell you how confused I was every time coach Jackie came up with a new play after analysis of each teams patterns.

Over time I got the hang of it though—popping, bouncing, and cutting and all—and I even scored a touchdown and made a key interception, both times by pure luck.  In the end, our peach-colored uniformed team lost both games, but as Kelly optimistically pointed out, “At least we weren’t shut out.” Non-Ultimate-related fun continued at the end of each game when the teams did impromptu cheers to each other, chanting a phrase three times in ascending volume.  For example, when we lost against Urine Trouble, we cheered, “When you’re stranded on an island, you drink you’re URINE!” When we lost against FIVE™, we chanted, “Five cheers for Five!  Five cheers for Five!  Five cheers for Five!  Five cheers for Five!  Five cheers for FIVE!!!!”

“And one for the wenches!” Ancilla added, representing the pirate wenches on our team. 

The King’s Pirates are nothing without the wenches.

AT THE END OF THE DAY, my entire body was sore, but feeling pumped.  It was completely drained from nutrients—and what better way to fill it up with the standard college staples of boxed instant food and chips!  That sort of cuisine wasn’t exactly the guys’ style; they were actually pretty health conscious, with a box of fresh fruit at the door for quick, nutritious pick-me-ups, plus they had salad at almost every meal when they took turns making dinner in the week.  But that’s not to say cheap just-add-water food from a pharmacy wasn’t available, and by my request to have a nostalgic “ultimate college experience,” David Sebastian made us macaroni and cheese with powdered cheese goodness, followed by instant noodles.  Aye!

Later on that night, the “ultimate college experience” continued when David Sebastian went on a “date” (quotes intentional) and Aviv and I went out to the 24-hour coffee house Calhoun’s, a local UBC haunt where students studied and did homework after the Sunday night live jazz set from what I’d say is the best high school jazz band in North America.  They performed covers of everything from J.Lo to the Village People’s “Y.M.C.A.”—familiar songs that didn’t come out of no where like most of the Ultimate lingo that confused me all day.  I was thoroughly impressed.  This is a high school band?  Well, blow me down.

You can follow the standings of “The King’s Pirates” on the VUL website.  Also, don’t forget:

SAVE THE DATE; INTERNATIONAL TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY IS COMING.
SEPTEMBER 19, 2005.
CLICK HERE TO FOR MORE INFORMATION.


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This blog entry about the events of Sunday, February 27, 2005 was originally posted on March 09, 2005 on the blog, "The Global Trip 2004: Sixteen Months Around The World (Or Until Money Runs Out, Whichever Comes First)," hosted by BootsnAll.com. It is one of over 500 entries that chronicled a trip around the world from October 2003 to March 2005, encompassing travel through thirty-seven countries in North America, South America, Africa, Europe, and Asia. It was this blog that "started it all," where Erik evolved and honed his style of travel blogging. (It starts to come into focus around the time he arrives in Africa.)

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