Mardi Gras part 2

So the surprisingly good-natured handshakes with UNT were behind us, and we moved fields over to some smaller, more pitched fields that had lights for our final round, a play-in game to earn a spot in the A bracket. Our opponents would be Truman State, a team we weren't familiar with. As usual, an unknown opponent would spell trouble for the Pain Train.

We started well, as they dropped the second throw in the start of the light rain, but soon started to play down to a team that was fairly one-dimensional but did that one thing very well. Point after point, our O line played horrendous transition D - understandable, given the number of points all 7 guys had played that day, but still unacceptable. And time after time, bladey flick hucks went up from one of their handlers and came down in the endzone with their primary cutter. Ugh, it was annoying. Particularly given the fact that it was too dark under the lights to play decent ultimate and Truman was decked out in their black jerseys, disappearing like ninjas all over the place.

Princess showed up after putting in a masterful performance over at their field site (they would end up only losing two games, to the two teams that ended up in the finals, and ended in 3rd.) It was really starting to rain at this point, and points continued to be traded to 10-10.

Eventually, you've got to step up. We had played pretty decently all day, particularly given our D-plan shortened roster and heavy proportion of freshmen (all of whom fit in extremely nicely and really showed their progress from a winter rolling with the A side.) But eventually, as mentioned above, you've got to stop playing well enough and actually put your head down and do your job. A particularly scream-y timeout clarified this for all 21 of us, and we attacked the end of the game with an improved sense of urgency. The sidelines were in it, pushing past the various groups of fans and Truman State players to actually pump up the guys on the field.

Receiving at 10-10, the Train O face punched the disc in without turning it, then got a quick stop against Truman and converted the break with a huck to Chase. At 12-10, Truman was headed downhill and did punch one in, setting up the pull to the Train that we could convert to avoid yet another Universe point situation. As Kell loudly warned everyone to be relaxed, telling Nick Brown "I don't care if I'm open by 20 feet, don't huck it to me," we got the disc and started to work it down the flick sideline. Eventually we hit Kell, and with Will and myself back to provide an outlet, Breezy took off for the endzone. Having forgotten all he just said, Kell unloaded a floaty flick that Nick bodied his defender up to rip down. Win, Pain Train, 13-11.

We quickly departed, trying to get out of the rain and desperate to join Princess at a local Qdoba that Molly Roy painstakingly and poorly described. Fed, we went back to the Ramada and variously showered, passed out or briefly went over to watch some TV with Princess in their hotel. We had to get home early to get up the next day though.... and I'm sick of writing, so you'll have to wait a bit to find out about Sunday and the jambalaya.