Next up, the ever entertaining… Grant Farrington.
1. What was your first Summer League team? Did you love it or loathe it?
Ah, fresh faced 18-year-old Grant playing on Instant Karma in the summer of 2003. I absolutely loved it, despite the fact that we went 0 for the year and none of us were old enough to buy booze. I also didn’t know how the ranking system worked. I thought I was good. I was a dastardly over ranked 5. I’m still an over ranked 5, but no longer dastardly.
2. You’re only allowed to make one type of throw for the rest of your life; what is it?
Hmm, oh wait. Easy. Breakmark backhand huck against Chain. Only against Chain and nobody else. Quality AND quantity.
3. What’s the most glorious play you ever made? Exaggeration is encouraged.
I was playing deep in the jungles of Costa Rica in the sweltering hot summer of 2009. All other foes had been vanquished as my rag tag group of green jerseyed teammates took on a rag tag group of blue jerseyed teammates. Also, I wore a hat. The big blue meanies were in the lead, but the crowd of about 13,000 (or 80, I forget the exchange rate) demanded more satisfaction and sweet plays. We were determined to give them what they wanted and maybe, just maybe, catch the twinkle in the eye of a pretty girl or guy. We weren’t necessarily picky. We were receiving late in the game, and I fielded the pull out to another guy. I’m immediately bored standing around playing the dump, so I decide to jog/run/sprint to the endzone. My teammate catches my drift, throws up a big huck as I run right through the middle of the stack shoving everyone who got in my way. Once I clear the pack, leaving bodies in my wake, I’ve ensured that I’m the only one who can achieve glory as I furiously and slowly try to track down the disc. At this point, I’ve probably layed out 2 and 1/2 times in my entire life, but I’m not letting this one go. The disc gets closer and closer to the ground as I take one final step, outstretch my arms, awkwardly fall to one side and snag the disc, then proceed to slide on the slippery grass in hopes that my percieved lay out was as dastardly to to the crowd as I had hoped. My teammates were over joyed to come celebrate with me as I had ensured that we would only lose by 5 in the finals instead of 6. Final score, 13-8 bad guys.
4. What’s the worst or most embarrassing play you ever made? Don’t spare the details.
Well, I did convince my college team to name ourselves ‘God’ my senior year. I also had a terrible multi-puke after this year’s obesity challenge at the End of Season tournament. I even went through a phase in college of sleeping in the van during our tournament weekends to ensure a “comfortable bed spot.” I think my most embarrassing plays come from the beginnings of my frisbee life, and I distinctly remember my first EOS tournament at the Polo Fields playing Puolo. Ryan Balch, longtime Puolo member and former midtown guy, was a teacher at my high school while I still attended. He introduced me somewhat informally to the AFDC by telling me about summer league and suggesting I go with the weeknight league instead of the Saturday league. Well, low and behold, after an entire season of losing up the lose hole we are playing them. Of course, all we could do was kick back and enjoy ourselves as the no facial hair, inferior competition that we were. I especially was looking to have fun because I didn’t know too many people yet and this was a chance to play against a familiar face. Lots of burning us deep and under and our own mistakes led to Puolo putting in the bottom of their roster and so even we thought we could get some points out of this situation. Well, at some point later in the game, I’m matching up against a guy who’s a good 7-8 inches shorter than me (maybe it was Vitone?!?! Probably not… but it could have been) and even being a gangly 6’2′, I thought I could at least make a play in the air against him. Well… a disc goes up deep, I’m in good position to D it and make a play I’ve been craving all summer long, but a combination whiff and too early bid, and he gets it without even having to jump. Just another feather in my cap of mediocrity. At least I skied Dylan that summer. I think. I was also dastardly.
5. Who is your favorite Ultimate player and why?
A tough question to ask so I’ll defer to a split decision between two deserving individuals. First, my old college teammate Matt Chaban, who might or might not still play Ultimate, but taught me that frisbee and nudity go together like, well… frisbee and nudity. Of course, going to Oregon, I could have learned that from numerous other individuals, but he was the only one to streak the BYU sideline and get on the Ultivillage film reel doing it again during the finals of my first college tournament (footage lost forever). I’ll also go with Dick Dastardly, who doesn’t necessarily play frisbee per se, but does have a cool last name: Dastardly.
6. If an Ultimate Frisbee heaven exists, what would you like to hear the “Ultimate Deity” say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
Did you party? Hearty? Good. For your kharmic efforts on and off the field you get 15 free tokens to the arcade and 200 tickets to spend on the prizes behind the booth. The John Hammond doll is a popular choice and here is your weekly itinerary:
Monday – Baseball night
Tuesday – Boatracing night
Wednesday – Team Trivia
Thursday – Return to Earth as a ghost night
Friday – Dancing!
Saturday – Some frisbee
Sunday – More frisbee
7. What makes the AFDC so darn swell?
The people! Most folks’ first experience to a new adventure usually frames their way of thinking about it as a sort of building block for the rest of time, so that means the AFDC is responsible for how I turned out today. Without awesome folks around to show a new kid the ropes, I would have probably joined a frat and majored in business. Instead I took the advice of my elders and majored in something useful: sociology! After I graduated I moved back to Atlanta and got a job right in the thick of the economic downturn. There are several factors that led to the souring of the economy, but most people point fingers at the housing bubble as a result of predatory lending from banks with little oversight. This is somewhat reminiscent of the stock market crash of 1929 when many people lost fortunes from speculatory stock trading. 1929 was definitely a hell of a year and all the while, alcohol was illegal to manufacture and purchase in the United States. Clearly this was a misguided effort from some dastardly old chaps that has roots in anti German sentiments from World War I. In… can you repeat the question please?
Previously in this series: Holly Symolon – http://www.afdc.com/2012/01/seven-on-seven-holly/