Augustus Stahl
Equinox Staff
There was a circle of breathing bodies, exalted in their victory, their second of the day. There were smiles all around, as they discussed what went well and what didn’t in their 13-8 victory over University of Maine. All of a sudden, the background noise on the crowded field got louder, as the Keene State College Ultimate Frisbee team broke out of their huddle to more than a dozen guys snapping their fingers and singing like they where in “West Side Story.”
At the end of every game, the teams will cheer one another, complimenting them or honoring them somehow. In this instance, the U-Maine team wanted to give Jared Dimascio, a player on the KSC team, a spirit award. The ultimate culture has evolved more into a way of life. Robert Brouillard, one of the players on the U-Maine team, said, “We didn’t come here just to party, or to play frisbee; we came here to do this, to spread the spirit.”
Augustus Stahl / Equinox Staff
The KSC ultimate frisbee team poses for a team portrait during their spring break trip to Brunswick, Ga.
All sports have their cultures, but the ultimate frisbee culture is unique. There are no referees, and there are no head coaches. Players call fouls on each other and then either accept it, or contest it rationally. It holds sportsmanship paramount, because without it, the sport couldn’t exist. This sort of culture bonds players in a way no other sports do. It’s more of a sport than people give it credit for.
Dan Bullard, a junior and “unofficial captain” of the KSC Ultimate team said, “I’ve played a lot of sports. The culture in Ultimate is the most solid culture; it’s different from all other sports. Every sport has its own culture, but I don’t think I’ve found one as unique and intimate, intense in its simplicity. All you need is a disc and some cleats. In a pinch you can lose the cleats.”
It was Sunday. They sat around a table at quarter to one in the morning, discussing current standings. There were six of them, laughing and talking softly, a third of the way through the 19 hour drive to the ultimate frisbee tournament, High Tide, in Brunswick, Ga.
The lights were dimmed in the Pennsylvania home of Michael Sumichrast, known by many by Sumi, a KSC alumnus, where the group of 18 people traveling to Georgia were staying for a few hours. The other 13 players were softly snoring on anything soft they could find, making the living room floor into a lumpy, breathing, pit. Sumichrast graduated last spring, and had played on the KSC ultimate team for years.
“I didn’t let you stay [at my house] cause I’m a good person,” Sumichrast said, “I let you stay because this way I can get all of you to visit me.” They were all friends; this wasn’t a chore.
The conversation evolved from each other’s wellbeing to the tournament. One team from Colorado had swept ahead in the standings. “They must have gotten those points and then the break wind hit,” Ryan Fischer, a sophomore and a captain of the team, said.
Murmurs of agreement broke out around the table, and they started discussing the possible weather conditions for the ensuing games. Finally, it was agreed that they should get some sleep. There was at least another 13 hours to drive, and the first of the two vans was set to leave at 3 a.m. Lights flicked off, and the team was ready for the tournament.
The drive took 14 hours through to the southern coast of Georgia, but arriving around 7 p.m. Sunday night gave everyone enough time to rest. Now they were out on a field surrounded by color. Monday was the hat tournament. Players previously submitted their names and now were delegated onto random teams, distinguished by colored shirts. “It’s like a box of crayons,” said Allison McCadden, KSC player and the only girl to come down to High Tide.
Everyone got their colors, and slowly but surely segregated themselves into teams. McCadden was on the salmon team, along with students from across the country. The team bonded immediately, making jokes about their color and finding out a little about each other.
Alby Spizzirri, a junior from Lehigh University in Bethlehem, Pa., was extremely friendly, getting everyone else to loosen up. “My brother got me into ultimate, but I kept playing cause of the kids.” Spizzirri hurt his hand in a bid in the second game, but he kept playing for the entire day.
“I played varsity baseball, but it’s different. Ultimate is the same amount of competition but more fun. I’ve found it’s harder to love and still have fun in other sports.” Andrew Knight from Wentworth in Connecticut overheard the interview with Spizzirri and added some comments.
Knight said, “I played other sports but they started getting too political. Parents were getting too involved. It became less and less fun. The best part about Ultimate is that they don’t care about your skill level.”
The fire illuminated dozens of faces from across the country. A continuous wind blew off the shore but it didn’t matter, they were together. An unnamed guy climbed up on his friend’s shoulders and said, “there are good ships, and there are wood ships, the ships that sail the sea. But the best ships are friendships, and may they always be.” Everyone cheered.
After at least three games in the hot Georgia sun, everyone was friends.
This was the side of High Tide that many players made the trip for exclusively. Many teams rented out mansions on Saint Simon’s island, hosting parties that people in Keene aspire to. “We work hard, and we play hard,” Renn Bauhan, a junior and member of the KSC ultimate team, said.
Ultimate is gaining more and more steam. Jared DiMascio, a KSC alumnus, founded the KSC ultimate team in 2007, came down to High Tide with the team. “I consider myself an athlete,” DiMascio said, “because ultimate is breaking into mainstream more and more. We’re getting the word out. There are college pro clubs on ESPN, Major League Ultimate. In the past five years, there have been broadcast companies, merchandizing.”
As for the future of the sport, “Ultimate frisbee could easily in four years or so be in the Olympics,” Fischer said. There are now two pro level ultimate leagues, and teams popping up across the country. “We just need more people playing. We have a lot of people leaving within the next two years,” Fischer said, “we need a big class of freshman. You just need cleats, cones and 14 people. It’s so easy to learn, so easy to play. It’s a gentleman’s game.”
Augustus Stahl can be contacted at
cstahl@keene-equinox.com