This
has been a great summer for watching Ultimate.
Between the World Games in Birmingham, the World Club Championship
outside Cincinnati, the Youth Club Championship outside the Twin Cities, and
World Junior Championship in Poland, there has been a gracious plenty of the
greatest of all disc sports to watch.
There was so much great Ultimate
to be seen that the bummer of Ultimate not being selected for the 2028 Olympics
barely registered, at least not with me.
Of course, it being Ultimate, a lot of play also means a lot of social media fulmination about the flash points in our sport. Rules enforcement, problematic aspects of Spirit of the Game, persistent racial and socioeconomic inequity, new understandings about gender and their implications, the perennial quest for visibility and legitimacy, and more – it was all there, in multiple forms, to be observed and read about and thought about and commented upon ad nauseam.
I wish I could write about all of it, but back-to-school is breathing down my neck, so I’ll attempt to limit myself to one match that generated a lot of chatter, the third round of pool play match between the USA and Canada at the World Games in Birmingham, back in June. This was a World Flying Disc Federation (WFDF) international tournament, played in a mixed tournament – that is, each team placed an equal combination of male identifying and female identifying players on the field at the same time. The USA team, featuring a lineup of stars every fan of the sport would recognize, had been upset by Germany in the second round, so winning this one was essential in order to advance. Adding to the drama, there is a longtime rivalry between the USA and Canada in Ultimate, with some epic and intense matchups over the years.
This one was close, too, at first, but in the end the USA ran away with it, winning 13-8, not the most memorable of results, but it signified recovery of mojo as the USA went on to win the tournament. If the USA / Canada match lasts in the public memory (well, the relatively small public memory of Ultimate) it will be because of two plays. The plays both speak to an aspect of Ultimate that has become a point of contention: Spirit of the Game (SOTG). This is how it is defined inthe rules of the Ultimate:
Spirit of the Game is a set of principles which places the responsibility for fair play on the player. Highly competitive play is encouraged, but never at the expense of mutual respect among competitors, adherence to the agreed upon rules, or the basic joy of play. All players are responsible for knowing, administering, and adhering to the rules. The integrity of ultimate depends on each player’s responsibility to uphold the Spirit of the Game, and this responsibility should remain paramount.
So Ultimate has this uncommonly demanding code of conduct for players inscribed into the rules, which is cool, except when it doesn’t work so great, which is with some frequency. The idealists among us (I have those leanings) believe that the discipline of striving to uphold SOTG on the field may contribute to better citizenship off the field. My favorite aspect of SOTG in competition is it’s prohibition of “win at all costs” behavior. That injunction has mostly stuck: the kinds of intentional fouls that are routine in other sports are exceptionally rare in Ultimate. But SOTG can be a hard code to adhere to - I’ve had plenty of moments that don’t speak well of me as a SOTG disciple - and the outcomes of players “administering” the rules don’t always feel just: when I’m on my deathbed there’s a decent chance my last conscious thought will be of an on-field incident from 50 years before that I haven't quite gotten over (“His last words were, ‘You have to be closer than that to call a pick!’ What does that even mean?”)
In the USA / Canada match, one of the two plays that exposed fault lines in SOTG happened early in the first half. With the score 1-1, the USA’s Dylan Freechild ran down a huck from Carolyn Finney that was trailing away from him and caught it for a score before bidding Canadian player Malik Auger-Semmar could block it. What happened next is what raised eyebrows of the SOTG-observant: as Auger-Semmar skidded along the ground, Freechild appeared to give him a ridiculing stare, then turned and spiked the disc. The spike: a player of my generation may wince at it (for us it was taboo), but at this point an old timer like me griping about spiking in a big match will sound like Grandpa Simpson complaining that the soda bubbles are burning his tongue. Spiking is well on its way to becoming normalized in elite competitions, if it is not there already (the WFDF’s spike-hating commentators were mocked mercilessly on Ultimate twitter). And in this case, Freechild took care not to spike the disc AT his opponent, a gesture all factions of the spiking debate seem to agree violates SOTG. It was the stare that looked like a clear cut case of taunting, a real nose-thumbing affront to SOTG’s insistence upon “mutual respect among competitors.” As a gesture it reeked of disrespect, and that it had been done by a national team player in an international match made the transgression seem even worse.
This play cuts to one of the two main facets of SOTG – what it asks of players in terms of how they treat each other, the side of SOTG that is about behavior, how you act on the field. How do you interact with opponents ? How do you conduct yourself in moments of conflict? How do you celebrate? The SOTG clause in the rules advocates, but does not require, actions such as congratulating opponents for their good plays. A lot of people think fondly of customs such as these when they think of Ultimate. Others find them schmaltzy, and lately we’ve been taught that they can also be a pernicious form of gate keeping. As Ultimate reckons with its ongoing problems of inclusivity and access, part of the story has been black players and their coaches coming forward with multiple accounts of having an Emily Post standard of "mutual respect" selectively applied to them, of being labeled "aggressive" for slight deviations from the norm (a norm derived from a cultural tradition that may consider itself universal but isn’t) while the labelers overlook similar behavior from white opponents. The work to be done to make Ultimate more congenial and accessible to BIPOC athletes goes much further than merely re-examining SOTG and how we apply it, but that task is part of it. The imperative to be welcoming is one of the first values to be instilled in me by my primary mentor as a youth coach. That imperative certainly extends to making sure we don't impose our own bigotry under the guise of upholding SOTG.
Exposing SOTG’s capacity to be a subtle factor in maintaining the Ultimate community's homogeneity is one piece of a general de-exaltation of what has up to now been a virtually unquestioned point of pride for the sport. SOTG has always had its detractors, but in the past they were more likely to call it quixotic than detrimental. That has changed. Some have pointed out problems in the practice of teams giving each other "spirit scores", some have challenged Ultimate to stop congratulating itself on professing values that are not uniquely its own, and some are just enjoying the opportunity to be irreverent about something that has had an occasional aura of preciousness about it. There’s an amusing clip from the recent US Open mixed final between Philadelphia Amp and Arizona Lawless that has been making the rounds. It’s rather funny. During a stoppage of play, the Lawless defender offers a friendly fist bump to the Amp thrower before play resumes. The thrower doesn’t reciprocate, but does hold out the disc for the tap in. The defender gives up on the fist bump, taps the offered disc, and play resumes.
It is not 100% clear what is happening in the clip. Is the thrower deliberately dissing the defender, or did he not notice the offered fist bump? I think it is the latter - he seems preoccupied with what’s going on downfield and could easily have mistaken the offered fist bump for the defender holding out his hand for the tap in (the thrower's response to the video seems to bear out this interpretation). But the mere appearance of a player seeming to flout a de rigueur custom of on-field courtesy tickled a lot of people, like the sight of Groucho Marx messing with a stuffy old dowager. Maybe moments like this one could signify Ultimate becoming less persnickety about the finer points of in-game spirit etiquette. Not too long ago, if we thought the thrower was intentionally rejecting the first bump, we probably would have collectively said, based on the prevailing understanding of SOTG, "What a jerk." Now, maybe not. And maybe that altered expectation wouldn't be so bad. Anyone who has been in the thrower's situation, trying to discern the most promising downfield option before play resumes, can understand experiencing the offered fist bump in that context as kind of an imposition, and thinking, “Do you mind? I’m busy right now.” At bottom, the "Fist Bump Whatever" muddle is a funny, awkward moment in a match, probably just a misunderstanding of the type that happens all the time in such a busy place. But it is worth noticing that even as some viewers got the giggles over seeing a SOTG nerd appear to get rudely rebuffed, that same appearance caused the thrower to seem a little embarrassed about how it looked. When it comes to old school demonstrations of SOTG - high fives between opponents after points and such - I hope we can go from a state where declining to do that kind of thing doesn't get you tagged as "bad spirited" without going to a state where such gestures are regarded as passé.
There has also been a tenor of snark on Ultimate twitter around the topic of disc spiking. It appears that this summer has been a turning point in the long march toward legitimizing the disc spike as an acceptable way of celebrating a score (even USA Ultimate seems to have gotten on board, promoting a U-17 player's impressive spike at the WJUC). Pro-spikers are delighting in the slow-motion demise of this longtime prohibition. One way that shows up is in a collective rejoicing over the kind of aggressive spikes that were once regarded as anathema to SOTG. If you've ever been around for the relaxing of a school dress code, the vibe is similar, and for anyone who has ever gotten a bad spirit score for spiking, this must feel like overdue vindication in progress and an unshackling of expressiveness. I get that. As the years have gone by and more and more people have pointedly asked why this particular form of celebration should be singled out for prohibition - especially for full-grown, high level players in big time matches - it has become harder to make a retort that isn’t rooted in mere personal taste (the head observer himself recently poured cold water on the idea that edge spiking inevitably damages the equipment). I say all this while acknowledging that my taste does run against spiking. It is not so much the spiking itself that bugs me. I just don't get the mystique. There is so much in the playing of Ultimate to be fascinated by: with such great substance at hand, why the preoccupation with this mere accessory? In some TV coverage of Ultimate, if the commentators are real spike-o-philes, the experience of watching a match can feel, to me, like sitting through one of those sitcoms that is just a vehicle for delivering catchphrases. Say the line, Bart! It may seem strange that a vigorous kick spike could embody the very triteness satirized in the "'I Didn't Do it' Boy" episode, but that's how I have often experienced it through the screen. Also, I've got beef with some of the anti-anti-spiking rhetoric. If all you knew of this controversy came from those who characterize spikeless Ultimate as an inevitably dour experience, watching this summer's Ultimate would have blown your mind: Hey . . . a lot of these players aren't spiking the disc after they score - a lot of them - and yet there's still all this spectacular play and intense competing and lively celebrating and they appear to be having a fulfilling experience. How is that even possible? Those are my grievances, such as they are, and perhaps with the loss of its transgressive cachet, spiking will fade into the background. I hope so. But even if doesn't, I'm not really concerned. In the big picture I don't see any inherent disrespect in spiking, and I don’t see a necessary connection between a predilection for spiking and one’s level of commitment to the most crucial aspects of SOTG. Most of all, what I love about Ultimate does not hinge on whether players who have scored are allowed to throw discs at the ground or kick them. As spiking becomes a more or less an accepted part of Ultimate, I wonder whether it will add an unwelcome complication to the already numerous challenges of working with youth teams, but on the whole I’ll be among those who are not thrilled about this development but not really distressed about it, either. I think we’re also the people who shook our heads over Freechild’s spike but reserve our real disapproval for the staredown.
The second play in the USA v Canada that inflames SOTG angst occurred later, with USA leading 9-6. This time the situation is not about how players relate to each other but about a second major facet of SOTG: self-officiation - how the rules are enforced, where the rubber meets the road in any sport. The players I know would rather compete against a grouch who knows the rules and plays by them than against a charming fellow who wants to high five you after he makes six dubious travel calls on you (NOTE: you don’t want to compete against that fellow but you don't want to BE that fellow, either). If the game isn’t fair, who will play? And a common approach recommended by those who want to see SOTG modified to make Ultimate more welcoming to historically underrepresented groups is to place less emphasis on those culturally contingent behavioral aspects of SOTG and more on sound self-officiating. The more we’re hung up on how to determine whether a player is in bounds instead of on what constitutes an appropriate celebration, the more we'll be on track to having cleaner matches and creating fewer unnecessary barriers to entry. I like that idea, a lot. And I also like that in the main those who have made this case seem committed to a more expansive view of what constitutes mutual respect, not abolition of the concept (nobody outside a few contrarians on twitter is trying to make Ultimate safe for John McEnroes). I believe that’s important, as I’ll explain further on.
The second play: A Canadian huck into the endzone hung in the air, leading to one of those jump balls we coaches despise. In this case, two USA defenders were grappling for position against a Canadian receiver. But off to the left we can see Ty Barbieri of Canada prepare to get a running start to make a tremendous leaping bid. He does jump, spectacularly, and catches the disc above the crowd, but not without knocking over USA player Nate Goff, who called a foul. Not to dig too far into the finer legal points of this play (if you want to follow online debates about plays like this one you had better learn the term “verticality”), but if in order to make that catch you have to clobber someone who is positioned as Goff is, you have committed a foul, perhaps even committed a "dangerous play" (strictly forbidden).
Situations like this one happen sometimes, even among players who pride themselves on being conscientious about the well-being of the other players on the field. It is a sport of split-second judgments about opportunity vs. risk, mistakes are made, and nobody who has watched a lot of Ultimate and saw the trajectory of that throw could have been shocked by the pile up that ensued (such throws go by the nickname “hospital pass”). Some say that Barbieri's bid - an experienced player leaping into a crowd to attempt a catch that had little chance of succeeding without someone getting clocked - was a SOTG violation in itself (NOTE: not intending to hurt anyone is not exculpatory - "I was just going for the disc" is the "I come from a long line of frontiersmen" of rationalizations for bad behavior in Ultimate). Perhaps the bid itself offended SOTG. But for me and many others, from a SOTG standpoint, worse than Barbieri's poor judgment during the play (we have seen FAR worse instances of disregard for the safety of other players) was his refusal to acknowledge it afterward: he contested the foul call. When Goff and the WFDF's game advisor could not persuade him otherwise, the disc was sent back to the thrower for a do-over. Many jaws dropped. Had the match been played by USA Ultimate rules, with an observer instead of a game advisor, once the players could not agree on what happened, that observer would have been empowered to determine the outcome of the dispute (it is noteworthy that the dean of USAU observers made his call on the play via twitter: clear foul, the disc should have been turned over to USA in the goal line). The WFDF's game advisors may only provide their perspective, not make the call. In this case, the GA told Barbieri that he had committed a foul. Under WFDF rules, the player is not obliged to go by what the GA says, and Barbieri did not. Back to the thrower.
As Ultimate social media collectively ruminated over these plays, someone asked a question to this effect: from a SOTG standpoint, which is worse – Freechild’s impertinent stare or Barbieri’s dubious decision to contest? For me, that's an easy one: the latter. Mutual respect is important, but fair play is foundational. In fact, from a fair play standpoint, the disputed end zone foul doesn't illustrate disregard for SOTG as clearly as the violation depicted in the photograph above (from a match on a muddy field in North Carolina 40 years ago, in the Paleolithic era of Ultimate - that's me on the left. Disc archaeologists will date the photo not only by my permed hair but by the Wham-O disc in my hand and the two foot traffic cone behind me). Barbieri's play illustrates the common problem that players can't always anticipate that what they're doing will be a foul: he certainly made his leap in the belief (mistaken, as it turned out) that he could make that catch without committing a foul. Maybe he violated SOTG in even attempting the play, but for me it doesn’t indisputably become a SOTG problem until he contests the foul, afterwards. The photo illustrates something different - a clear during the play problem. The defender plainly commits a marking violation (subcategory "disc space", subcategory "wrapping", colloquially known as the "huggy mark" - how am I gonna pivot?). This isn't a miscalculation on his part - he either doesn't know the rule (all too likely in a 1983 college tournament) or he knows it and he doesn't care that he's breaking it. Either way it is bad spirit - SOTG says we're all responsible for both knowing the rules and playing by them.
I could go on and on about marking violations. To me they're especially bad because (a) they typically can't be attributed to error (the violator makes a conscious choice to break the rule), and (b) they're extra consequential because they affect the thrower: they require the player who already has the most cognitively demanding job on the field to do the extra, very distracting mental work of considering whether to call a violation that never should have happened in the first place. All the classic marking violations - double-teaming, fast counts, wrapping - have a whiff of deliberate disregard for fair play to them, and they can go unnoticed but be more influential to outcomes than violations that get more attention. The two seconds of stall count the thrower loses pleading with the marker not to cheat can make all the difference in one play, and one play can make all the difference in a match. Youth coaches: teach your players to mark according to the rules from the start!
OK. Calm down. Shady marking tactics - off topic. What's at issue in USA v Canada is "the stare" or "the contest": which is worse? They do illustrate the distinction between the “Are you courteous?” and the “Are you ethical?” sides of SOTG, but it is shortsighted to treat the two plays strictly as a case study in “this is worse than that.” There’s a potential connection between them in a way I’ve seen incidents in Ultimate matches connected before. I do not know what went on between the players or in any player’s head during this match, but I do know from my experience as a player, a coach, and a fan that when what happens on the field gets personal and grudgy, when resentment and anger are flowing, one’s capacity for sound self-officiating becomes compromised. All of us who have played have witnessed it or experienced it. Under those circumstances it becomes that much harder to acknowledge a valid call that goes against you and that much easier to make a dubious call. Even for a player who hasn’t experienced a provocation from an opponent, the challenges of self-officiating are daunting. To do it well requires knowing the rules thoroughly, playing the game and monitoring rule adherence simultaneously, and striving to make dispassionate judgments about situations where you have a stake in the outcome. For mere human beings executing those three tasks in conjunction can be exceptionally hard, especially in high pressure situations.
Just a few days after the World Games, in the women’s division final at World Club Championship we saw another textbook case of the immense challenges self-officiating presents. Medellin Revolution’s Manuela Cardenas (a player who routinely does spectacular things on the field) made what appeared to be the 317th spectacular play of her career, racing to smack away an under-thrown pass intended for San Francisco Fury’s Kaela Helton*. To the amazement of those present, Helton called it a dangerous play, and under WFDF rules she might have had a case. Ultimate social media lit up over this one, like a colloquium of learned scholars poring over a text, challenging the ethics of the players’ choices, parsing the nuances of the rules, attempting to look into the players’ souls, even questioning the behavior of the crowd: as a member of the community, does being in the bleachers instead of on the field mean that you are exempt from SOTG's admonition to assume that competitors are making their judgments in good faith?
One aspect of self-officiating that the play highlights is that it is a shared duty – whatever else may be said of the situation, Cardenas and Helton took seriously their mutual job of coming to the correct resolution. The effort to work on it together and calmly matters so much. SOTG is far from perfect in both its conception and in how it has been applied, and God knows some among us can be rather pretentious about it at times (me, now), but there’s a genuine tangible need behind the interpersonal norms SOTG asks Ultimate players to observe: if we don't treat our opponents well enough on the field to earn their trust in self-officiating, then we’ve got nothing (unless several hundred observers who will work for free are about to arrive in a flying saucer). We depend on each other to uphold fair play, even when we're in conflict. Everyone on the field has a part in preserving an atmosphere in which fair play has a fighting chance and the cynicism that invites "win at all costs" behavior cannot flourish. Many have said it: self-officiating is the one aspect of the competition in which all 14 players on the field are teammates.
So, returning to the USA / Canada match, the stare, and why such things shouldn't happen even if they aren't as immediately harmful to the game as bad calls: Why would anyone aggravate their partner in officiating’s struggle to make sound judgments by needlessly, self-indulgently pumping some red mist into the undertaking? Had I been Auger-Semmar's teammate, Freechild's gesture would have been damaging to my conviction that my opponent deserved fairness from me, and when the inevitable self-officiating moment of truth came along, I don’t know what I would have done. To be clear, there are contextual aspects of the end zone foul – it was a pivotal moment in a national team match between two longtime rivals, it was a highlight reel play possibly being stricken from the record – that are far more likely to have nudged Barbieri toward his poor choice to contest the foul than was any lingering resentment over something that happened to a someone else almost an hour ago. But if the sight of gratuitous humiliation of his teammate contributed to his decision to contest, it would not have been the first time that a needlessly antagonistic interaction early in a match contributed to a self-officiating fail later on.
So when it comes to keeping this self-officiated sport healthy and functional, no, taunting your opponent isn’t as harmfully consequential as denying you committed a foul when you obviously did. But if the former can crack open the door for the latter, why do it?
* at 1:57:45 of the video
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