Ultimate Frisbee etc.

Ultimate Frisbee etc.; You won\’t just find discs here.

My 21st Birthday!

Posted by balletdancer51 on April 23, 2007

I turned 21 yesterday and I just thought I would post on it.  As much as I was looking forward to it, I really don’t feel any different.  I mean, I had three different ‘parties’ but they were all very low-key.  It wasn’t what I had imagined for my 21st birthday, but it was still fun.  Cameron was right, I am boring!

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One Night Stand

Posted by balletdancer51 on April 20, 2007

One Night Stand is coming up!  This is a very fun all night tournament at the end of April.  It is held on the beautiful Nacogdoches fields at SFA and is usually the most fun of the season.  UT Dallas is camping out about half an hour from the fields at an old boy scout camp with a spring fed river running through it.  It should be a good time, with a party at a lake house the night before.  Please contact us if you’d like to play (anyone can come!).

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Excerpt of Fanfiction

Posted by balletdancer51 on April 17, 2007

This is from a fanfiction I wrote for Supernatural fandom.  Very geeky I know, but I don’t care.  I’m not alone. lol  Enjoy.

            Dean lifted his head when he felt Bobby’s hand on his shoulder.  They had been at the hospital for the past hour, and nobody had any news about his brother.  The adrenaline rush of getting Sam to the emergency room had long since abated, leaving Dean a quivering mess.  The thought that his brother lie in the same hospital that had claimed their father left him bereft and lost.  He was thankful for Bobby’s presence; he didn’t know what he’d do without the man there to reassure him.

            “Dean, I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Bobby spoke softly behind him. 

            Dean rubbed his hands tiredly over his face as he nodded wearily.  “I know,” he answered hoarsely.  “He’s a
Winchester.”

            Both men lifted their heads in hope when a doctor walked through the door to the waiting room. 

            “Someone here for Sam Palsey?”

            Dean jumped up in earnest, heading straight for the man.  He could hear Bobby hot on his heels.

            “Doctor?  I’m his brother.  Do they know what’s wrong with him?” Dean watched the doctor’s face for any response.

            “Mr. Palsey, why don’t we sit down?” Dean seemed to hesitate, and then followed the man over to two waiting chairs.  Bobby stood behind him.  Both were hanging on every word.

            “Mr. Palsey, Sam is suffering from septicemia.  Blood poisoning in layman’s terms.  He apparently had a sliver of glass that the trauma team missed after the accident embedded in his right bicep.  We have removed it, but now all we can do is hope the antibiotics have time to work.  He was brought in with an extremely high temperature, and we’re trying to get it down, but I have to warn you Mr. Palsey, it’s not good.  His immune system was already compromised due to the accident and blood loss.”

            Dean hastily wiped the tears that were forming in his eyes at the news.  Not now he prayed.  He’s all I have left.  “Can I see him?” Dean’s face fell when the doctor sighed, and he started plotting how to get in to see his brother.  It was for naught though at the doctor’s next statement.

            “It’s against my better judgment at this point, but maybe you’ll be just what the doctor ordered.  Only you though,” he glanced at Bobby sternly, “I don’t want any stress added to Sam’s system.  He needs all the strength he can get.”

            Dean flashed the biggest shit-eating grin he could manage at the doctor.  “Scout’s honor doc.  I won’t bother him.”

            “Alright then, follow me.”  He led the small family through the hospital corridors until he came upon the ICU.  Dean glanced around nervously when he saw what wing they were keeping his brother in. 

            “We just want to be able to keep an eye on him.  Come on.”  The doctor pushed through the doors, and Bobby nudged Dean to follow him.

            “I’ll be right out here,” Bobby reassured.

            It was eerily quiet inside the ward, and Dean winced every time his shoes scuffed on the linoleum.  Most of the people lying in this part of this hospital were dying, and it made him shudder.  He stopped abruptly when the man in front of him halted in front of a drawn curtain.  Pulling it back, Dean got his first good look at his little brother.

            Sam was as white as the sheets below him, but his face was flushed red from the fever.  His hair was matted to his head by sweat.  There was a thick bandage on his right arm, and he was hooked up to numerous monitors, all beeping that his brother was alive, for now.  He was hooked up to two IVs, both providing the fluids that would save him hopefully.  He was sleeping restlessly, and had kicked the sheets halfway off himself.  None of that was unexpected.  What made Dean’s heart fall to his toes was the tube snaking out of his brother’s mouth.  The whoosh of the ventilator as it breathed for his brother made him flinch every time with the reminder that Sam could not breathe for himself.

            “What’s that for?” Dean jerked his arm in the direction of the ventilator, but he instinctually kept his voice quiet.

            “He was having trouble breathing when he came in.”  The doctor reassured.  “It’s just so that his body can completely concentrate on fighting the infection.  Once he’s regained enough strength, we’ll remove it.”

            Dean nodded as if an automaton, and moved closer to his brother.  He wiped the sweaty bangs off of Sam’s forehead, smirking a little at the length.  He had told Sam multiple times to get a haircut, but
Winchester’s were nothing if not stubborn.  They were definitely two of a kind.

            “Talk to him.  Calm him down.  He’s still semi-conscious at times, and the fever makes him nervous.  Don’t bother the nurses.  Maybe you can help him fight his way back.”  With that the doctor left Dean with the only person in the world that mattered. 

 

            Dean had been lost in his thoughts when he heard the first signs of his brother waking.  He heard a slight gagging, and the beeping on the monitors sped up some.  Sam started clenching his fists and shaking his head from side to side, fighting some unseen predator when Dean reached over to grasp his floundering hand.  Grabbing Sam’s chin, he forced him to face his direction.  Sam blinked sleepily a few times, and then his eyes opened wide in a panicked, glassy stare.  Dean could hear him gagging on the tube and he started rubbing circles on his chest.

            “Sam, Sam!  You’re fine.  Don’t fight it.  Just let go.  Let go!  Let it breathe for you.  With me okay?  In. Out.  In.  Out.  You’re fine, I’m here.”  They continued this way for a tense few moments until Sam’s eyes sparked recognition and his muscles relaxed under Dean’s hands.  He was no longer fighting the ventilator, but Dean could tell he was confused and scared.  Sam had a death grip on his hand, but Dean didn’t feel it past the relief of seeing his brother open his eyes.  He reached over for the cold compress the nurse had brought and laid it gently on Sam’s forehead.  It became apparent that he wouldn’t be getting his other hand back for quite some time, and he was quite okay with that.

            “Shh, it’s okay Sammy.”  Dean kept rubbing soothing circles on Sam’s chest and watched as his brother’s eyelids slowly lowered.  He calmed on the bed, but the grip on Dean’s hand was unrelenting.  Dean took comfort in that.  Sam was still in there fighting.  He sank back into his chair tiredly.  He had been looking after Sam for the last 24 hours, and still his brother’s fever wasn’t going down.  He heard talk of brain damage and organ failure but refused to listen.  As long as Sammy was still in there fighting, they were winning this battle.  Dean didn’t know which battle; the one for Sammy’s life or Dean’s soul, but either way, they would be triumphant, he had no doubt.

 

            The next time Dean was jolted from his uneasy sleep, it was to Sam thrashing on the bed.  The monitors were wailing at him, and almost immediately, personnel were there pushing him out of the way.  He watched on in horror as they tried to hold down his brother, all the while yelling for different medicines to stop the attack.  He watched them plunge a syringe straight into Sam’s arm, and almost instantaneously he went limp.  He could do nothing but stare as they cleaned him up and reinserted IVs and wires that had been torn off.  As the last nurse was leaving, she gave him a subtle pat on the back and a small smile in sympathy.  Dean was still standing there in shock when the doctor came to stand in front of him. 

            “What was that?” he whispered, unaware of the tears that had started flowing down his cheeks as he watched them work on his brother.

            “Dean, come sit down.”  The doctor led him back over to Sammy’s bedside.  Dean immediately grabbed for Sam’s hand, being careful of the tubing and monitors.  The fingers he held felt somewhat clammy, but they grasped his gently back and he was heartened by it.  Sam still trusted him.  He would do everything in his power to make sure things were made right between himself and his brother, but he would need Sammy healthy first.

            The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up into the kind face.  The doctor addressed him as if speaking to a child, but at this point, he really didn’t care.  In fact, he was almost grateful for the platitudes since he felt so close to breaking himself.

            “He had a seizure, but it was actually a good thing.  The fever broke, and after having that high a temperature for so long, it sent his nervous system into a shock.  Now we just have to wait until he wakes up to see if there was any long-term damage.”  The doctor patted Sam on the hang before leaving.  “I’ll be by in a little bit to check his vitals.  He’s quite the fighter.”

            You have no idea Dean smirked.  His Sam was going to be okay.  He just knew it.  He had to be.

           

            “Dean, I swear, if you don’t go get some damn sleep, I’ll cut and run.”  Sam did his best to give his brother an intimidating glare, but it was offset by the corners of his mouth quirking up. 

            Dean glanced at Sam and smirked at him bemused.  “Yeah, and who’s gonna bring the wheelchair to roll you out?”  Sam was definitely looking better than he had two days ago after the seizure, but he was still far from hale.  His hair hung in lanky strands around his pale face, and his eyes were so sunken in he looked like a raccoon.  Dean still winced every time he saw his little brother’s chest and how his ribs stuck out.  The kid had lost a lot of weight, but at least he was breathing on his own.  Dean had to close his eyes at the memory of the ventilator.  He’d never been so ecstatic than when they removed it.  He remembered the hell of gagging on that thing.  Stop he told himself.  That line of thought led down a path to memories he’d rather not dwell in.

            “Um hello?” Sam was waving his hand feebly in front of Dean’s face.  As soon as Dean looked up, he sank back into the bed.  “You were a million miles away.  What’s up?”

            Dean just shook his head and shrugged.  He wasn’t sure if they were ready for this talk.  He knew he needed to apologize for his actions after their father’s death, but he couldn’t get the words past the lump in his throat every time he tried.  Instead, he just sat back down on the chair that had become a second home over the last few days.  A second uncomfortable home, but Dean wasn’t about to start complaining now that he had Sam back.

            “Seriously man,” Sam fixed him with those puppy dog eyes.  “You need sleep, you look like hell.  I’m fine now; you don’t have to worry anymore.”

            “Like hell Sam.  Just stop.  I’m not going anywhere,” Dean practically growled.  Sam shrank back at the harsh tone, and Dean could see the shutters go down in his expressive eyes.  It was the same look he had given him on that deserted roadway, and Dean’s heart broke then and there.  With tears welling up in his eyes, he gave a heavy sigh and grabbed for Sam’s hand.  The expression on Sam’s face would have been hysterical in any situation but this one.

            “Dean, man, I’m okay now.”  Sam leaned over to pat Dean on the shoulder awkwardly.  When did it come to this?  Why were they always walking on eggshells around each other?

            “No, Sammy, you’re not.”  Dean looked up, and Sam’s eyes got wider at the look of unabashed agony on his brother’s face.  “Neither of us is.”

            Sam opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again just as quickly.  This is what he had been waiting for since their father had died, and though the raw agony his brother was in tore at his heart, he realized the necessity of this catharsis. 

            Tears streamed down Dean’s face unwarranted and his shoulders shook in silent sobs.  Sam found that his own eyes were moistening at the site.  Dean’s next word made his heart burst with love for his brother. 

            “Sam, Sammy,” Dean took an exaggerated breath, “I love you.  I know I don’t say it enough, but I almost lost you and…” Dean couldn’t finish as he was overwhelmed by emotions he had kept locked away for weeks now.  With a surge he enveloped Sam in his arms and it was at that moment that Sam realized they had a long way to go, but they’d be okay as long as they had each other.

 

*Alright guys, that’s it.  I’m sorry if the ending sucked, but I’m so much better at limp!Sam than resolving stuff between them.  Plus, I wanted to leave it so it could segway into Bloodlust.  At this point nothing is resolved anyway, but deep down I just know Dean realizes that he’d be nowhere without Sam.If you want to read the rest of it, go to www.fanfiction.net and look for stories by dancer51.

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Another Excerpt

Posted by balletdancer51 on April 16, 2007

This is another excerpt from the same novel as before.  This is the beginning to the first chapter.

            Laura wasn’t special.  She was tall, but not too tall, she was blonde, but not too blonde, and she looked like any other girl in the office.  She sat at her desk, waiting for her sales order to open, lamenting her job and thinking of a million other places she’d rather be.  People argued in the cubicle over, but she drowned out the noise and focused on the computer screen in front of her that still had yet to change.  Her boss glanced at her with a scathing look, and she considered typing up her resignation while she waited on her too slow computer.  She’d cried too much and given up too much of herself to this job.  What the people around her didn’t seem to realize was that it was just that, a job.  But these people were all older, this was all they had to look forward to for the rest of their lives, and she pitied them.  For Laura, this was a way station, just a resting area on the road of her life.  It paid the bills, but it wasn’t her future.  She could walk out today, go be a waitress, and be just fine.  They couldn’t, and deep down inside, she felt a sort of superiority in her youth. 

            At 20, Laura seemed to already have her life in order.  She had the full-time corporate job, went to school full-time at night, and even had the boyfriend on the side.  She wore a smile on good days and a grin on bad ones.  It was the perfect life, for a 40 year old mother.  At 20, Laura was dying inside.  She ached for spontaneity, and just a little more challenge.  Little did Laura know, she was about to embark on a journey that would try the soul, challenge the spirit, and leave her in the midst of an adventure that would change her doldrums existence forever.

            ‘Finally,’ she thought exasperated as the screen changed.  Just as she was about to save her results, a little yellow envelope popped up at the bottom right corner of her screen.  She sighed exasperatedly, and then continued on.  It was probably yet another email from Monique with a task she could have easily done herself.  ‘Well, she can wait,’ Laura thought, as her mouth quirked at the thought of her minute rebellious act. 

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Captain No More

Posted by balletdancer51 on April 4, 2007

I have abdicated my position as captain of the UT Dallas ultimate frisbee team.  After multiple disappointing let downs I have decided to move on.  I am not done with Frisbee however; not by a longshot.  I will just not be the leadership behind UT Dallas anymore.  For more explanation I will let you know privately through email or face to face.

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Just An Excerpt

Posted by balletdancer51 on April 2, 2007

This is just an excerpt from a new novel I’m working on.  I would love feedback, but no flames.

“NO!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, trying to get the attention of the griffin approaching Cameron.  It turned, its large eyes piercing her where she stood.  It ruffled its feathers when it saw her and started advancing on her in large strides.  Laura’s eyes widened as she realized the consequences of her actions, and she backed away slowly, scrabbling on the gravel when she neared the edge of the cliff.  Cameron growled and all she saw was a blur before he was on the creatures back, pulling out feathers and clawing with his bare hands at the skin underneath.  She could only watch in awe and horror as Cameron unleashed all of his anger on the animal, still just mere feet away from her.  Then, as if in slow motion, the griffin swung about trying to claw at the man on its back.  One winged claw clipped Laura on the shoulder, and she felt a brief fire on her arm before, as if in slow motion, she plunged off of the cliff.  Immediately aware of her weightlessness, she struck out at the cliffside, finally snagging a clump of brush sticking out of the rock.  Her shoulder jerked and tears came to her eyes as agony raced up and down her arm.  Hot liquid raced down to her elbow, but she refused to look at her shoulder, afraid of the damage she might see.  Swinging up her other arm, she clambered for a foothold on the cliff face.  Finally in position to start climbing, she risked a glance down the scraggly rocks, and gasped out loud at what she saw.  Water, barely visible at the distance down it was, still thundered as it rushed through the canyon.  Gulping audibly at the lump in her throat, Laura turned her face back to the sky.  The top of the crag was not far, but with her right arm almost useless, she nearly cried out at her predicament. 

            “Just like back home.  Come on girl, can’t wait around all day,” she spoke softly to herself, moving her right foot and left hand up in sync.  “You still gotta rescue that man up there.”  Inch by agonizing inch she found her way up the vertical face until she could see over the edge.  Curious over the lack of sound, she peered over and gasped a strangled breath at what she saw.  The griffin lay on the ground, its head at an unnatural angle, with a bloody rock on the ground next to it.  She gazed about, her heart pounding as she searched the area for Cameron.  She finally saw him, not far from the griffin, a pile of brush concealing his body from her.  He was sprawled face down, a hand outstretched in her direction, with blood pooling the ground around him, turning the dust into a black mud.  Tears sprang to Laura’s eyes as she scrambled the last few inches as fast as she could, and sprinted to his side.  She fell to her knees shaking her head in denial.  Gently, she grasped his shoulders and turned him over, surprised to see him gazing up at her through glassy eyes.  He smiled softly and relaxed into her hold. 

            “I thought you were dead,” he gasped through bloody lips. 

            “I’m not that easy to kill,” she replied, tears falling on his face, smearing the dried red there into rivers of liquid lining his cheeks.  She stared at his beautiful face, smiling though her heart was breaking inside.  She had seen the hole in his stomach where he must have taken a claw while killing the evil creature next to them.  The love of her life was dying in her arms.

            “I got him.”  The statement was ended in a fit of coughing that left her body shaking and Cameron trembling in pain.  “I thought I’d lost you.”  He brought his hand up to her face and she held it there reveling in its warmth, his touch reassuring and heart wrenching.

            “You’ll be okay,” she smiled, but her eyes belied the truth that they both knew. 

            “No, I won’t,” his smile was radiant in what was to be his last moment.  “But you will.  Just remember, I love you.” 

            Laura tried to speak past the lump in her throat, but could not return the words she had waited so long to hear.  With a knowing smile, Cameron again grasped her hand, gasped his last breath, and died.

            “Oh my God, NO!” She wailed, sobs racking her body. “No, no, no!” Laura clasped him to her body, as if holding onto him as tight as she could would bring him back to her.  It was in this moment of greatest despair that Laura found hope.

            Thinking back to the elves in the wood and their powers of healing with life force, Laura concentrated with all her heart and soul on the methods taught her in that short time.  Yes, she could now heal small cuts and bruises, but she had never given another back life.  Just when she had lost all hope, she felt warmth envelop her body.  Looking down in awe, she saw a glow surround both Cameron and herself.  Closing her eyes again, she put her whole self into healing her love.  Slowly, she felt the warmth beginning to fade, and so she pushed herself to transmit more, thought harder, and physically held onto him tighter, yet she could not get the warmth back.  Finally, as if in a dream, she was jerked out of her trance by rough hands shaking her.  As if through a fog a comforting and familiar voice tried to bring her back to her senses.

            “Laura, Laura, LAURA!” Cameron yelled, still shaking the non responsive girl in his arms.  Her eyes were halfway open, but they did not acknowledge him at all.  For the first time since he had awoken from that unnatural sleep, he saw that she had indeed been wounded.  Her jaunt in healing may have left him better than new, but she had given too much of herself, and he could see all of her cuts and bruises had formed again, freely bleeding now that they were reopened.  Blood flowed from the wound in her shoulder, and he grimaced at the torn skin where she had been clawed.  Glancing down at himself, he saw his blood-soaked clothing, but feeling underneath he could feel not even the remnants of his old scars.  Thankful as he was, this awakened a new fear for the woman in front of him.  She slumped to the side slightly and he changed his position so that she could lie against him.  She was gasping shallow breaths, and her heart was thudding in her chest.  Regretting the action before he took it, he reared back and slapped her hard on the cheek.

            Laura took a deep breath as her eyes finally opened all the way.  Blearily looking up she saw Cameron’s worried eyes and realized she must be in heaven.  She tried to lift a hand to his face, but she could barely lift a finger.  Her whole body felt heavy, and lethargic, and her limbs were tingling.  Mouthing the words I love you at her angel, her eyes finally rolled back and she fell into a deep, deep sleep.

 

            Cameron looked over at Laura again as he built the fire up.  Her chest rose regularly with each breath and the bandages on her shoulder and shallower cuts were still a stark white against her pale skin.  ‘At least the bleeding has stopped’ he sighed to himself.  He had been beside himself with panic when she had passed out in his arms.  The brief warmth he had felt as she finally let him know how she felt faded quickly when she had gone limp against him.  The only thing keeping him from losing his mind with worry was that she had a steady if faint pulse, and she was taking deep, regular breaths.  He carried her gently to the stream they had passed on the way up the cliff.  He worked quickly to strip her of her dirty clothes and clean and bandage her wounds.  Digging through the packs the Trimerans had sent with them, he pulled out an herb for pain and yet another to disinfect her cuts.  Once patched up, he blanketed her in a soft coverlet and laid her on top of their two sleeping rolls.  He considered clothing her, but at the way she cried out when he tended her many wounds, he had decided to spare her that pain.  She had yet to move from the position he had left her in.

            Walking slowly, he knelt down at her side and briefly felt her forehead for fever.  Finding her cool, he moved his hand up to brush her hair back.  She really did look much younger asleep.  Laura’s head moved slightly into his palm and she turned toward him, but did not open her eyes.  It amazed Cameron the emotion that swelled within him at this small movement.  It still surprised him how quickly he had fallen in love with this spitfire, especially after their first meetings.  Now that he had, he vowed to protect her with all his might.  “Kinda hard when you’re giving up your life just to heal people,” he muttered despondently, though he knew he wasn’t mad at her.  He was mad at himself for getting them in the situation to begin with.

            Laura turned more at the sound of his voice and tried to fight her way up from the dark haze that had descended over her.  Something soft brushed her hair away from her face, and she leaned even more into the touch.  “Hmm,” she mumbled sleepily through dry lips.

            “Laura?” Cameron asked tentatively.  He stared at her face, willing her eyes to open.  “Laura, come on honey, open your eyes for me.”

            “M’kay,” she answered, and on the third attempt she got them to blink open wearily.  “Waz goin on?” she asked glancing around and finding herself on the ground.  She tried to lift her head, but it felt as if it weighed a ton.  She barely got an inch off the ground before falling heavily back onto the rolls.  “What happened?”

            Cameron would have laughed out loud at the look on her face if he weren’t so worried.  She was propped on the rolls with her head halfway off, still leaning into his still palm.  Her eyes were big as saucers and she blinked owlishly up at him.  Apparently the herb had kept her from feeling anything as of yet, but she would.

            He slowly slipped his hand underneath her head, and then scooted over until she lay on his lap.  Looking down at her he sighed.  “You nearly got yourself killed, that’s what’s going on.”  He sighed again as she just stared at him and quirked his mouth in a slight smile.  “How do you feel?”

            She blinked up at him then narrowed her eyes as she tried to remember what had happened.  A flood of images came at once and she surged up in his arms.  She turned to face him, grasping at his shirt and arms, finally coming to rest on his face.  Her breath hitched sharply and she looked at him, panicked.  “Are you okay?”  Her voice raised an octave.  “Last time I saw you…”

            Cameron grabbed at her quickly, stilling her frantic movements and made her look into his eyes.  “Laura, I’m fine.  I’m fine.  You healed me.  You…you really hurt yourself to do that…” his voice faded as he thought again at what she had given for him.  It scared the hell out of him.

            “Cameron, I…you’re okay?”  Relief washed over her in waves, and with it came pain that she had not yet felt.  She gasped and her vision wavered for a moment. When she could make out more than blurs she felt Cameron lowering her back down with care; concern painted across his features.

            She took in deep breaths and after a few moments the aching was at a bearable level.  Opening her eyes she stared at Cameron.  He was digging something out of the packs, and then suddenly he was back by her side. 

            “God, I can’t leave you alone for a second.”  He smiled thinly at her then moved to investigate the bandages.  “At least you didn’t open them again, you freak.”  He may have been jesting, but his voice was rough, and she could hear the emotion behind it.  He was worried.  She was puzzled at how much that touched her.  She knew he loved her didn’t she?  What more could a girl want?  Her thoughts flew her awareness as he pushed on her tender shoulder and she shrieked in pain.  Dots flashed before her eyes.

            “Don’t do that!” she bit out.  Whatever else she had to say was lost in the ether as Cameron brought a cup to her lips and helped her drink.  “What’s this?” she asked after drinking it down greedily.

            He smiled.  “Something for the pain.  You’ll probably be out of it soon, so anything important might need to be said now.”  He looked at her expectantly, and she squirmed a little, nervous and annoyed.

            “Why’d you give me something to make me sleep?  I’ve been asleep.  Besides, you need me…”  Her sentence was broken by a yawn, and she could feel lethargy thrumming through her, as if it was running through her veins.

            Cameron chuckled at her.  Even immobile and drugged she was arguing with him.  “Yes, I do need you.  More than you know.  For that very reason, you need to get your rest.  Now go to sleep.”  He watched her struggle for a few more seconds, then her eyes drifted close and she heaved a great sigh.  He brushed her hair away. 

            “I love you goober.” And with that she was asleep again.

            “You too, Princess.”

 

            Cameron was still asleep the next morning when a weak slap brought him awake.  He jerked up from his position at Laura’s side and looked around in the early morning light then down in worry.  She was staring at him sullenly with the cutest pout he had ever seen.  “What? What happened?”

 He laughed out loud at her response. 

            “I’m naked!”

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Winter League 2007

Posted by balletdancer51 on March 28, 2007

2007 was even better that 2006!

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This is a picture of Crispy and Pam acting out a play when Courtney (the cutest nicest person you’ll ever meet) took on someone that was twice her size with less than half her spirit.  Funniest moment of the whole season.

 There’s also one of me catching a score in the endzone!  Sweet!

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Pictures from TBUF

Posted by balletdancer51 on March 13, 2007

TBUF 2006 Pictures here!  These are from the beach tournament we went to last summer.  My team actually went to the championship game!

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Here are the guys in line to register.  This tournament was in Galveston.  It was gorgeous.

The rest of the pictures are of the team burying me up to my neck in the sand.  That was an interesting experience that I don’t necessarily want to repeat!

 I can’t wait for this year’s tourney!  That was the most fun I’ve ever had on a beach.

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Spirit of the Game

Posted by balletdancer51 on March 13, 2007

The Spirit of the Game is integral to the sport of Ultimate, but not  everyone agrees on the degree of spirit one should use, especially in competitive games.  Recreational and competitive frisbee are two very different divisions, and spirit of the game becomes very controversial at times.  I will be discussing some of these issues and what the UPA says about spirit of the game.

Competitive Ultimate is any ultimate competition sponsored by the UPA and gives points to the team with regard to their status in their region and the nation.  These can be in the Open division (men’s), the Women’s division, or the Mixed (co-ed).  There are club and college series’ in the fall and spring, respectively.  The teams that play in these tournaments are extremely athletic, have been playing together for some time, and play at above par levels.  It is not expected for a team to cheer for the other (as in recreational) and calls are made much more often.  A controversial issue, especially since college nationals last year, is the tendency of some men to spike the disc when they catch an important score.  This can do damage to the disc and demoralize the opposing team.  The UPA has ruled that this is acceptable only ocassionally and as long as no damage is done to the tourney disc.  Many players have stepped up to talk about it, but it really comes down to how a player interprets Spirit of the Game.  And it is very open to interpretation. 

One of the most coveted awards in the college series is the Callahan Award.  Now, a Callahan is when you play defense in your own endzone and end up catching the disc for a score.  The Callahan is given to the most outstanding player of the year, but not only in athletic ability.  They also have to have big spirit.  Like I noted before, it is integral to the game, and you are not considered a true Ultimate player unless you are spirited.  Spirit is your enjoyment of the game, the honorable way players resolve fouls and other field mistakes, and the overall way you treat the other players and the game itself.

 What it all comes down to is that we’re all out there to have fun.  If you are going to be a cranky pants, just stay home!

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Sectionals and Regionals

Posted by balletdancer51 on March 5, 2007

Sectionals and Regionals are coming up!  Just wanted to give everyone the 411 on these two very important tournaments in the college series.

 Sectionals:

Where: A&M (College Station); When: April 14th and 15th

Regionals:

Where: UT (Austin); When: April 28th and 29th

 Anyone that wants to go to these tournaments needs to email me or call me with UPA information and personal specifics.  I have to register the team by the 23rd of March.  See y’all on the field!

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