Ultimate Frisbee

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Getting to the fields a little early, one may be greeted by a doubt-inducing empty field. But as the start time rolls by, a conspicuously outdoorsy crowd begins to materialize. As people go about lacing up their cleats, a few people break off to start throwing a frisbee around to warm up. Eventually, a more experienced member pulls out a set of little plastic orange gym-class cones—or collects shoes and bags to serve in place of cones—and begins to pace out a rectangular playing field. When enough participants have assembled, the motley lot will split itself—half going to each end of the field—creating ad hoc teams.

It’s a very loose interpretation of  “community.” In Ultimate, it takes at least two players to score a point (the thrower and the receiver). In addition, the entire team is involved in keeping the disc moving, looking for the right opening. While a badly thrown ball is instantly pulled to the ground by gravity, the Frisbee, using air as an ally, denies gravity its quick reward. A slightly overthrown Frisbee—and there are plenty in these early season pick-up games—lingers above the ground long enough for a hard-working teammate to be able to make one desperate attempt to grab it, often with a stretched-out dive (called a “layout”). One feels an instant affection for anyone willing to put out the extra effort required to cover a teammate’s bad throw.

Similarly, the teammate who plays strong defense, creating a “turnover” (reverting possession of the frisbee back to their team), has made it that much more likely that his/her team will score another point. In this way, the sport builds camaraderie. The community extends beyond any single pick-up game; Ultimate pick-up games can serve as the starting point for any participant, especially one new to the town, to learn about the local arts/music/nightlife scenes. Off-the-field networking can yield leads for work, housing, friends, and even romance.

An hour—or three—later, the game comes to an end as the participants begin to gradually thin out. There’s an exchange of “nice playing,” “good game,” and “nice running” as tired feet are nestled back into comfortable shoes. Any water left in Nalgene bottles are drained, damp clothes are packed away, and the last of the group disperse with the promise of “see you next week.” Some friends who haven’t seen each other since last year’s pick-up head off for a drink or two. Others head out to rejoin their non-Ultimate lives. Though the familiar early-season aches and stiffness will take hold over the following few days, for now everything feels good. Everyone soars home, feeling just a little bit unfettered under the early spring sky.

Illustration by Retsu Takahashi