Friz-bizzle

This weekend I played in my first French ultimate tournament! It also happened to be the first half of the co-ed national championships! Weird!

So anyhow, I'll try to post a recap of the weekend that doesn't bore the socks of you non-frisbee players (if I fail, sorry mom, dad, Sally, etc. and I hope that you get your socks back).

The team I played with is called Ah-ouh-puc (don't ask why, because I don't know--I was afraid to ask all weekend for fear of sounding like an idiot), which is often shortened to just "Puc". This is great because the "u" in "puc" is one of the hardest sounds for us yanks to pronounce, especially when trying to yell in an encouraging manner. Anyhow, this was a source of anxiety and stress for me all weekend (it makes cheering much harder when you are focusing on not saying "Poook"). The team itself is a very international group: there was me and 2 other Americans, an Austrian, an Italian, 2 Columbians, and, of course, a bunch of French people.
We ended up renting a giant house to stay at for the weekend, which was pretty awesome, because the entire team was in the same place which lead to some pretty entertaining evenings. It also made me feel as if I got to know everyone on the team a little better. We spent one evening telling bad jokes and the funny thing is that because there is such a difference between what languages people speak and at what levels you could pretty much tell a joke in whatever language you wanted and at least 3 people at the table would laugh (provided it was a good joke).

Tournament structure is also a lot more relaxed. Both days we only played 2 games, and on top of that, there was a break for lunch and even a place set up near the fields where you could buy delicious rillettes sandwiches (if you don't know what rillettes is, then I pity you, I really do). I had mixed feelings about this. My immediate reaction on finishing the first game was "great, we're done. Where do we play next?" and some looked at me like I was crazy was like "now, we eat lunch". Which of course means that you have to warm up all over again. Still, it seems alarmingly civilized.

I guess this would be a good time to add this detail about my weekend:
The reason for the stress about cheering was because I spent a lot of time this weekend cheering on the sidelines. This is because I sprained my knee at the end of the first game doing a classic awkward nell hesistation layout. Go me. It's a great way to introduce yourself to a team you haven't really played with before ("no, I swear I'm really good--remember that half hour you saw me play?").

The best thing about getting injured: learning how the French deal with injuries (at the time, this was not amusing but afterwards, yes). I pretty much called injury as soon as I hit the ground, because I knew something was not good with my knee. As soon as became clear to my teammates, I was immediately hoisted to the sideline by the male members of my team. When I got to sidelines I immediately asked for ice to put on my knee. I was met with a blank stare. At the time, I thought this was because in my stress I had accidentally asked for "glace" (which means "ice cream") as opposed to "glaçons" (ice cubes)--can you imagine "excuse me, could someone bring me ice cream for my knee?". After realizing my mistake, I corrected myself and asked for ice, only to be met with another blank stare. Apparently icing injuries is only for Americans, but after my insistence and much searching, someone appeared with the spray cold aerosol bottles you see used in soccer games, which helped a little.

After this fiasco, my teammates were all insisting that they take me to the hospital to see what was wrong (actually they first suggested calling the firemen). To me, this was crazy--go to the hospital?? for a twisted kneee?? are you insane?? But I got kind of strong armed into it and I discovered, to my surprise, that going to hospital in France is reserved for the grievously ill, it is also, in fact, for anyone who has a health issue that has to be taken care of quickly. So within a matter of hours I found out that rather than having a ACL tear, like I feared, I only had a sprain. It really takes the mental stress out of being injured at a tourney.

Anyhow, despite the injury, I had a good time this weekend. It was really cool group of people and I hope at the next one I'll actually be able to play more than a game.