"Rule Number 1 Is: Don't Guard Yourself!"

So, I was watching the Chicago Bears play the San Francisco 49ers tonight when I overheard 1 announcer shout, "Rule Number 1 Is: Don't Guard Yourself!"

To be honest, I wasn't really watching very closely, so I'm not sure exactly what he was referring to in the game. But, because I love the phrase, I'm going to pretend that he was referring to a situation that seems to come up constantly in pickup as well as club play.

The next time you are on the line waiting to receive the pull and you aren't going to catch it, think about what it is you'd like to accomplish as the disc is in the air. Most cutters, as the pull is in the air are jogging toward the defense at some spot in the middle of the field. Once there, they will patiently wait for their defender to comfortably set up before they even consider making a cut.

The best part is that often the handler will be calling for a cutter to cut back to the disc for him to advance the disc downfield before the defense arrives and the cutters will ignore him in order to get to their spot in the middle of the field.

Critical thinking question: why would a receiver who wanted to play well and help his team do this?

Look, I think that most cutters have their hearts in the right place. They were told by some jackass many years ago that their job was to "form a stack". The trouble is that the stack is only a means to an end, not an end in and of itself. A stack is useful to an offense because it should free a bunch of space on the field for cutting lanes. These cutting lanes allow the cutters to get separation from their defenders so that they can receive the disc cleanly.

However, in a pull situation, a stack is often not required for the cutters to get separation from their defenders. Typically, this is because the defenders are walk/jogging toward the disc. So why in god's name would the cutters rush out to meet them?

Jogging to the middle of the field to meet the defense is guarding yourself. You are making yourself a non-factor and helping the defense do their job.

So, what can you do as a cutter while waiting for your handler to catch the pull?

First, you must keep your eye on the disc. You never know when a handler may need you as an outlet. And if you aren't looking, then you are useless.

Second, consider spreading the field wide rather than heading downfield to the center. Like I wrote before, don't give up your separation so easily. Make the defense come to you. Make them come as far as you can.

Third, once the defense has caught on to the fact that you are not going to come to them anymore, they will start to come to you. That's when you fake like you are staying short and cut deep. The defense will hate you for it and you'll probably drag a couple defenders with you. This will either result in you catching a huck or, more likely, in you freeing up a teammate and helping your offense's flow.

In any case, you will have succeeded in not guarding yourself, which is a major victory in and of itself.

The fundamentals of catching hucks

Let's face it, there are very few true deeps out there. I'm talking about cutters with fantastic speed, great hands, unbelievable body control, and can jump out of the gym (10 ft+). This post is not written for true deeps. They don't need any help catching hucks.

Fortunately, almost every offensive player has opportunities to go deep and catch a huck. Because good offense is about exploiting match-ups, it may even be a relatively slow player with a mediocre vertical jump who finds himself as a deep target when he's covered by a clueless or poachy defender. What I'm saying is that, when your on the field, you must be prepared to cut deep and catch a huck at any time.

Catching hucks is not like catching other throws. For one thing, they are most often caught above the head. For another, they are often contested in the air.

I'm going to run down a list of fundamental things you should do to give yourself the best chance of bringing down a huck.

1. Get there early. When you begin your deep cut, don't worry about the thrower or the disc. Make 5 hard sprint strides deep before you look over your shoulder to check the disc. This should allow you to separate from your defender and give you a cushion to read the throw. Remember, it's a hell of a lot easier to slow down and cut back in at the last second to catch a huck that has come up short than it is to really turn on the jets to catch a huck that is overthrown. Use the first 5 strides to put yourself in the luxurious position of being able to read the disc in a relatively pressure free environment.

2. Read the disc. This is why "getting there early" and arriving downfield before your defender was so important. Hucks, because they a long throws and necessarily must travel at a higher trajectory to get above the defense, are highly affected by wind. They are also difficult to throw and so may not always end up where the thrower intended. As a receiver, you need to recognize the essential flakiness of the huck (and possibly the hucker) and respond accordingly. After your initial burst to "get there early" you need to continue sprinting but also look over your shoulder to find the disc. Figure out where it's going and make a bee-line to that spot. But, continue looking at the disc so that you can adjust your bee-line until the last possible second.

3. Catch the disc at the peak of your jump. So, you've made a bee-line for the spot where you think the disc is going to fall. Now, you have to catch it. Hopefully, it was a good throw and you made a good cut and there is no defender to challenge you. But, let's be realistic, there will probably be a defender bearing down on you. Your goal is to catch the disc at the peak of your vertical jump. Unless he's right next to you, don't worry about the defender. He doesn't matter as long as you catch the disc at the peak of your vertical jump. Concentrate on timing your steps so that you get a good, clean take-off.

4. Get inside. This only really applies if a defender is right next to you and you know that you are not only going to have to catch the disc but also win it from the defender. If it feels like a jump ball in basketball to you, then you know that you are in this spot. As the offensive player in this "jump ball" situation, there are two things you must do. The first thing is to "get inside". Means that you need to put your body in between where the disc is going to be caught and the defender. You MUST NOT allow the defender to put his body in between you and the disc. Making a good read and arriving early should allow you to dictate position. YOU CANNOT BOX OUT. Putting your body between the disc and the defender is different than boxing out. Boxing out involves backing up into your opponent after achieving good position. We cannot do that in Ultimate. However, achieving good position allows us stand our ground and puts the defender in a difficult spot where he will likely foul by jumping through us to get at the disc. If you get good position and he fouls, don't hesitate to call it.

5. Be first in the air. Now, you've "gotten inside" and you're not screened by the defender. As an offensive player in a "jump ball" situation, the second thing you must do is be first in the air. Basically, you need to get up for the disc before your defender does. I know that it may disrupt your timing, but you don't have much of a choice in this case. All that the defender has to do is knock the disc away. In a "jump ball" spot, it is MUCH MUCH easier to knock the disc away than it is to catch it. So, as a receiver, don't wait. Go up early and try your best to bring the disc down with you. The hidden bonus to being first in the air in this "jump ball" spot is that the defender will often jump through you late to try to tip the disc. This is, of course, a foul and you should call it.

I want to emphasize that we don't look to call fouls when we try to catch hucks. We look to put ourselves in the best possible position to win the disc. If we happen to be fouled in the process, we call it. But, our main goal is getting ourselves in the best possible position.

The worst space on the field for a bad defender.

Recently, I've been talking to Robo about finding a defensive balance between aggression and vision. Effective defenders are constantly feeding their brains information so that their brains can make predictions about what is going to happen. Once their brains zero in on a "sure thing", the defender turns off his brain for several moments and uses his aggression to seize the opportunity to create a turn.

So, how do effective defenders do this? Simple: they are always stealing glances at the disc. Of course, they cannot just stare down the thrower because then their man would be off to the races. But, there are certain times when the defender can position himself so that he's able to see both his man and the disc (as well as being close enough to his man to be able to make a play if the disc comes in). These times are precious and good defenders look forward to them and exploit them. The worst space on the field for a defender refers only to those defenders who fail to recognize these opportunities and therefore make the entire defense more vulnerable.

When your man cuts deep, fails to receive the disc, but doesn't immediately cut back in and instead stays relatively deep on the field, you have entered the worst space on the field/opportunity space for a defender. The reason this space is so bad is that most defenders try to front their man from this spot. The rationale being that the in-cut is really the only cut the receiver has. The trouble with this is that the defender is not able to watch the disc while fronting his man. This causes him to fall out of position quite easily and leads to easy scores either for his man or because he cannot help anybody else deep.

At certain times, fronting your man is a great idea. To know the difference between the two, you must ask yourself if you have deep help. If the answer is "yes", then fronting is a viable option because you'll presumably have somebody watching the disc for you and giving you information. If you do NOT have deep help, however, (like when you are already downfield a bit) fronting is NOT a viable option.

Instead, you must do the extra work of backing your man. And in this case, backing your man simply means being far enough behind him that you can see both him and the disc. You'll be anywhere from 1/4 step to several strides behind the receiver. It may seem ridiculous and like too much extra work, but it will allow you control both your man and the field.

Yes, by backing your man, you become more vulnerable to the in-cut. But, keep in mind that your man will likely have to run you through traffic in order to make that in-cut. You'll simply make the proper pick call and catch up. Also, you only need to back him by a tiny amount once you've found the disc upfield. There's no reason to give up several steps once you've established your position relative to the disc. Finally, keep in mind that your teammates upfield of you are excellent candidates for a switch if your man finds a lane for an in-cut. You'll be able to see the entire field and should have a couple seconds to communicate the switch to your teammate.

Conclusion: when your man hangs out deep, he's making a major mistake. Exploit his weak play by backing him. When you do so, you control both your man and the entire offense because you can see the disc and the entire field. Don't be lazy. Don't be stupid. Back that deep man.

Getting separation as a cutter.

Just over 7 months ago, I wrote about what it means to "get open". In that post, I took the 10,000 ft view of the subject. In this post, I'm going to look at the view from the ground.

Let me start by making a couple of commonsense observations about why many many Ultimate players are confused about how to get open against a real defender:

1. In a game where nobody really cares about playing defense (ie pickup), any mildly athletic cutter is going to lose his defender by simply accelerating in any direction. And while this may be "getting open," it has nothing to do with "getting separation".

2. In a game where both teams do care about playing defense, but a cutter has a much slower player defending him, then that cutter is going to lose his defender by simply accelerating in any direction. This is also not "getting separation".

I define "getting separation" as getting open against a defender who is of equal skill and who is trying to stay close to you. The problem is that many of us learn to play Ultimate by playing pickup. Which means we learn quite a bit about "getting open" by merely running away from somebody, but next to nothing about "getting separation". Sadly, as the quality of our opponents increases, the only way for us to "get open" is to "get separation".

Even more sadly, rather than realizing that our tactics are not very useful against good defenders, many of us refuse to acknowledge our poor cutting fundamentals as the cause of our cutting difficulties. If our defender is doing a good job, rather than changing tactics, we simply try to run faster and hope they get tired.

This above cutter tactic of running harder in an attempt to outlast a defender is questionable at best. It wastes tons of precious energy on offense (when you should be conserving) and assumes that you are, in fact, better conditioned than your defenders.

So, if we aren't supposed to just run harder, how are we supposed to "get open"?

Honestly, the tried and true method for "getting open" by "getting separation" is more complicated than just accelerating. It is not MUCH more complicated though.

Step 1: Decide where on the field you want to go.

Step 2: Make a small "false start" fake to get your defender slightly off-balance.

Step 3: Sprint hard IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION of where you want to go.

Step 4: After 7-12 yards, cut sharply back in the direction of where you want to go.

Step 5: While you are accelerating out of the cut, look for the disc.

The above 5 step process is guaranteed to get you open every time, provided that you are playing against an equally skilled defender, you sprint hard, and you cut sharply.

If you practice the above process, so that your every move as a cutter is one of these steps, you will become nearly unmarkable. The key is to not allow yourself to slip back into the bad pickup habits of accelerating mindlessly. When you are a cutter, keep asking yourself "what am I doing?" If you find that your answer is NOT one of the five steps above, stop doing what you are doing and go back to step 1.

Motivation (External vs. Internal)

My wife and I do not always see eye to eye about things. Shocking, I know. A recent conversation we had centered on me devoting 6+ hours a week to Ultimate, specifically to the RoboCo-op. The conversation wasn't an argument (thank god, as I don't think that I could be married to someone who didn't support the things I enjoy), but it did highlight the differences in the way we see Ultimate.

She sees my motivations as being mainly external, specifically external present and external future. The external present motivation would be something like: I work at this because I want my team to win the BUDA SCL tournament in August. The external future motivation is a little more abstract, but it would be something like: I work at this because I want to hone the leadership and communication skills that will be useful in future work related endeavors.

I cannot disagree with either one of these motivations. They are both valid. I do want the Co-op to win the SCL tournament. And, I do want to improve my leadership and communication skills. However, I believe that both of the external motivations are actually ancillary to my genuine motivations, which are much more internal.

In saying this, I do not mean to imply that my wife is externally focused. It's simply a matter of perspective. It is impossible to know another person's internal motivations. They're hazy and idiosyncratic. External motivations, however, are simpler to determine.

The way I see it, the 6+ hours per week I spend thinking about and playing games and practice are spent for their own sake. I don't think about practice and strategy and games because my thoughts are going to lead to a tournament victory. I think about them because I enjoy thinking about them. Will clear thinking in those areas lead to a tournament victory? Hopefully. Probably. But, that isn't the point.

Similarly, the leadership and communication challenges that are posed by trying to captain 20 guys, run successful practices, win games, and make sure that people are satisfied with the experience are not just trial runs for real world problem solving. In many ways, I think that problems within a team or on the field are more real than problems in a business. In business, people are paid for their time. On our team, we pay for the privilege of working. In short, nobody has to be here. There are no contracts, no bonuses, and no families depending on us to play. Most of us sacrifice in order to play.

Doing a good job as a captain will very likely come in handy in the future sure. But, once again, that isn't the point. If that were my motivation, I would just be bored. I'm motivated to improve as a captain because I enjoy it. It's the same reason we work on marking during practice. Are any of us going to use those skills in a professional context? Hell no. So, why do we work so hard to get better? Because, why not.

As my mother used to say: if you're going to do something, you might as well do it right. I've only slightly modified it to: if you're going to do something, you might as well do it for it's own sake.

Why does man-to-man defense fall apart?

Yeah, so I took 6 weeks off the blog.  My mind was basically empty of stuff that I wanted to write about and I didn't want to spew crap just for the sake of spewing.   But, now I'm refreshed and will spew crap for the sake of my own vanity.

I wanted to write about man-to-man defense falling apart because I have been seeing a lot of it during my weekly Hat games.  Surprisingly, my team does a pretty good job of not allowing easy break throws for yards.  We still get broken, but usually it's on a dump throw that is contested.  I can certainly live with that.

Our man-to-man defense falls apart because we don't play defense as a team.  I know that, for some, the idea of team defense within a man-to-man context sounds like a contradiction.  Many people tend to think of man-to-man defense as a 1-on-1 battle where each defender is on an desert island with his man.  And because each defender is on an island, he/she must only concentrate on his/her receiver.  This notion works great when explaining man-to-man defense to a new player, but almost always fails against an experienced offensive team.

Man-to-man defense fails because, while receivers know where they're going, most defenders lack even a vague sense of where the receiver is going.  This cluelessness isn't too much of a problem on in-cuts (IE the receiver cuts toward the thrower) because the defender, alone on his island, can still see the play develop in front of him.  The defender may not be able to stop the completion, but he should be in position to mark the disc immediately after it is caught because he knows what is happening when it starts happening.  

Where the information gap between receivers and defenders becomes a very serious problem is on deep-cuts (IE the receiver cuts away from the disc). In this situation, the defender CANNOT see the play develop in front of him.  Instead, the defender must choose to either watch the receiver and ignore the thrower or watch the thrower and ignore the receiver.  Of course, an experienced defender will have his head on a swivel and peek back at the thrower to determine how threatening a given deep cut is, but this is a skill that seems to only come with experience (and then, only rarely).

Most of the time, if the receiver knows what he's doing, the defender ends up trailing the receiver by a wide enough margin that a huck becomes a very safe throw.  On the short Hat fields, any huck is usually caught in the endzone.  The beaten defender feels sad and is likely confused as to where it all went wrong.

The answer that would cut through the beaten defender's confusion is that he likely did nothing wrong. He may be guilty of over-pursuing the in-cut fake or not anticipating a deep-cut when one was likely, but these are not the causes of the breakdown.  The breakdown was, counterintuitively, caused by the other defenders, who were able to see the play develop but did nothing to help.

The deepest defender (sometimes called "last back") is sometimes unfairly saddled with the responsibility of helping on any deep cut.  While it is true that this defender will be able to see every play develop in front of him, it is also likely that his receiver will be the first from the stack and make an in-cut.  This means that the defender who was "last back" will quickly no longer be.  The former "last back" will have to be fully concentrated on his receiver.  Of course, if the "last back" has a receiver that is just standing around, then he should be expected to help on any deep-cut.

In my experience, the real deep help, however, comes from the defenders near the back of the stack.  They too will be able to see almost every play develop IE they can see every offensive player except the receiver(s) farthest downfield.  The defenders near the back of the stack also have the added bonus of covering receivers that likely will be stationary for at least a few counts.  That means that the defenders near the back of the stack have the luxury of watching the thrower and almost all other receivers without penalty.

This is where the team element of man-to-man defense comes in.  If your mark isn't doing anything threatening, it is not a rest period for you.  Instead, you become a help defender until your mark decides to threaten an offensive space.  And while you won't be able to help on most in-cuts, you will be able to help on any deep-cut where the thrower is actually in position to huck.

What I've described above is wonderful for dead disc situations or spots where the offense isn't moving the disc particularly well or particularly often.  But, what about the times when the offense is repeatedly dump-swinging the disc and it seems like all receivers are flowing?  In this spot, there won't really be a stack for the defenders to spy from in order to see a multitude of offensive threats set up and execute their cut.  Instead, in the midst of good offensive movement, the deep-ish weak-side defender(s) become the help defenders.

When I say "weak-side" I mean the side of the field where the disc is not.  Against an offense who is dump-swinging this could be force-side or break-side.  The advantage of the weak-side defender is that he/she has a much better perspective on the developing play than the strong-side defender.  

If each defender takes the responsibility of providing back-up (or help) when their mark is in a non-threatening posture or is in a non-threatening position on the field, man-to-man defense can become a very useful defensive strategy. Ultimate is hard enough for defenders without leaving them to die on an island.

Hat Tournament Report

Jing and I braved the windy conditions and the icy/watery fields to play in a Hat tournament in Nashua over the weekend.  It was a small tournament, maybe 36 players in all, but it was very well run.  The players were split into 4 teams and away we went.

There isn't really anything interesting about Hat tournaments.  There's very little strategy and consequently very few tactics to discuss.  So, instead, I'm going to write about a single player who did several delightful things.

Delightful thing #1: He looked off open receivers early in the count.

Perhaps in a certain offense, this trait of looking off open receivers is actually a strength. Perhaps this fellow was trained in this particular school of offense.  Sadly, he never let any of his teammates in on whatever offensive school he was coming from.  Instead, he often refused to pass the disc before "stall 6" when he had the first throw of a given possession.

This trait is hurtful in a number of ways.  First and foremost, you allow the defense to gain the advantage by keeping the disc stationary.  Secondly, receivers stop working to get open because they've ascertained that their openness has no bearing on whether or not they'll get the disc. Thirdly, the marker on the disc is able to lock in for the last 4 seconds of the stall count to force bad throws.

I think the reason that certain players do this is what I call "hero syndrome".  They want to be the hero and make the "big throw".  They think they are better than just moving the disc. Unfortunately, heroes tend to make a lot of turns and do plenty of other things that hurt their teams.

Delightful thing #2: He refused to engage with the dump.

As the stall count gets high and it inevitably will with the kind of player who looks off his receivers until "stall 6", handlers must ready themselves to reset the disc.  An experienced player knows that few quality throws occur after "stall 8" and so he adjusts his focus as the stall count climbs from down field receivers to dumps.  Dumping the disc isn't particularly difficult if you are willing to deliberately do it.  Dumping the disc is really difficult if you are only halfway trying to do it.

This particular player was rarely even halfway committed to the dump.  Sure, he would glance at you (the dump) when you were wide open over his shoulder on "stall 7".  Then, he would look back down field for 2 more seconds.  Just before "stall 10", he would exasperatedly throw a weird floater to the middle of the field as if to say "see what you made me do!"

This delights me to no end.  Just dump the disc.  Don't be a baby.  And for God's sake don't turn the disc because you are having a temper tantrum because the cutter (whom you don't know) didn't do what you wanted them to do.

Delightful thing #3: He would auto-fake.

This may be the nittiest point I can make, but I don't care.  I loathe the auto-fake.  For those who haven't had the pleasure of playing with and auto-faker, it works like this: you are open by several strides on the break side, the auto-faker sees this and fakes a throw to you, your defender catches up.

An auto-faker is a thrower who is unable to make a throw without faking first.  He is the worst kind of faker because his fakes are not used to create space for another throw.  They are, instead, involuntary like your lower leg kicking when the doctor hits you on the knee.  Please, if you are doing something while playing the game of Ultimate and you don't know why, consider your reasoning on the sideline after the point.  Do not continue  

It doesn't just happen on the break side either.  Auto-fakers are adept at faking open throws to the force side, on the sideline, or near the end zone.  They are equal opportunity idiots.  Here's an idea: see the open man, throw to the open man.

Delightful thing #4: He would pick up the disc on a turn regardless of the offense's field position.

This killed me and killed the team. We work to get a turnover on defense. 5 of the 7 team members are still in the process of disengaging from their defensive assignments and becoming offensive threats.  And this fellow grabs the disc on the ground, starts looking down field, and faking.  

Please understand: this fellow has no teammates down the field.  He is the first one to the disc. He has been told by handlers behind him that he should "go through".  But, no.  The hero must be a hero.  So, the hero fakes until "stall 7" or so and then tries to force a throw to a receiver who is still huffing and puffing from playing defense and then sprinting down field to play offense.  Of course, this forced throw results in a turnover and the initial defensive effort is wasted.

This fellow seems to believe that, because he wants to throw a goal, a ready receiver will magically appear. Maybe in dreams this happens, but on the field there is precious little magic to be found.  What is easily found, however, is an opportunistic defense that unites against a fellow by taking away his dump and poaching all of his passing lanes. 

This fellow could have been part of a great offensive possession by running through the disc and setting up a big yardage/scoring cut.  But, that's not what heroes do.  Heroes gotta throw goals. I can almost hear the nu metal playing in his head as he imagined the "totally sick put" he was about to make.

Oh well, it was a fun tournament in any case.  It just could have been more fun for all involved (including the hero).

Ultimate and the NFL Combine

Over the past week, I've been watching a lot of NFL Network.  I signed up for the Comcast (I loathe you, Comcast) sports package because I wanted the Tennis Channel and Fox Soccer Channel.  The NFL Network came as a nice surprise, but I'm not that big of a football fan.  I follow the Patriots and I enjoy the overall game of football (thanks to Madden '92-'96 on Genesis mostly), but I don't care enough to watch out of market games.

This week, however, NFL Network was covering the scouting combine in Indianapolis.  If you're unfamiliar with the combine, it is a series of workouts and interviews for college football players who are going to be drafted into the NFL. Before this week, I had heard about all of the different drills that the players are put through (40-yard dash, broad jump, standing vertical jump, etc), but I had never actually seen any of the players doing the drills. I was curious to see what these fantastic athletes would be able to do.

Here's what's funny: none of it is that impressive.  This is not to say that benching 225 lbs 38 times in a row or running a 4.55 40-yard dash is not impressive when looked at individually.  In the context of so many great athletes, though, these feats of strength and speed are nearly indistinguishable from the average benching and 40-yard dash scores.  

In short, context is everything.  If you saw even the worst combine athlete in your gym or park, you would be shocked at his abilities.  I'm talking about the kind of shocked where you accidentally get hit in the face by a pass or drop a dumbbell on your foot because you can't tear your eyes away from the sheer athleticism.  In regular company or even among scholarship division 1 NCAA football players, the athletes at the combine are men among boys.  Around each other, however, they just look average.

You start to notice what they can't do.  Some guys don't bench as much as you'd think they should (usually due to having freakishly long arms).  Some guys aren't really that agile.  Some guys don't have great verticals.  Some seem poorly balanced when moving laterally.

My point in all of this is that even the greatest athletes in the world have serious flaws.  We who play Ultimate would never confuse ourselves with the greatest athletes in the world.  At best, we are a collection of good High School varsity athletes and maybe some guys who could have walked on to various teams at smaller division 1 colleges.  We all have serious flaws in our skills and our athletic ability.

And, it is all too easy to become focused on our flaws and deficiencies.  The same way that I became focused on the flaws and deficiencies of the fantastic athletes at the combine.  What should really matter to us and what really matters to the scouts at the combine is what players CAN do well, not what they can't do.

If you have one great fake-cut combination, refine it.  If you have a great forehand huck, practice it.  If you can sky people, work on it.  This may sound like I am advising you to waste your time, but I assure you that I am not.  Of course you should always be trying to get improve all facets of your game, but having weaknesses is okay provided you have strengths and can work around those weaknesses with smarts.

Your teammates count on your strengths.  A team can be thought of as a collective of all the individuals strengths and weaknesses.  Captains can strategize to make up for individual weaknesses, but they cannot strategize to create individual strengths.  Get really good at what you are good at.  Get so good at it that that particular skill or ability is a joke to you.  That is how you become valuable.

ATTENTION: HERE IS A POST WRITTEN BY A GUEST (IE NOT MY USUALLY TIME WASTING NONSENSE)

I asked Simon to write something up a while ago on the subject of throwing in windy conditions. He is a very good thrower/handler who always seems to have the perfect throw for any situation on the field.  He also didn't disappoint in his analysis of one of the most difficult spots for throwers. I'd like to do this sort of thing more in the future, so if you have an idea for a post, just tell me and then write it or just write it and then tell me.

Pissing in the wind...

There is little more humbling in Ultimate than watching a well-conceived throw get smacked to the dust or catapulted two fields over under strong wind conditions. These experiences attenuate our ambition for future throws and allow for the relative success of ZoneD in applying pressure to throwers on windy days. I was asked to expound on the breakdown in throwing mechanics in strong wind and whether the difficulties are physical or mental. To be concise, the challenge is most certainly both physical and mental, and the answer to this challenge can only be more practice throwing (with ambition!) in strong wind. I would like to take the opportunity to expand a bit on why certain windy conditions cause problems and to share some of my insights on good throwing strategies during tournament play during zephyrs and hurricanes.

Disc Flight

The are numerous discussions in print and online regarding the physics of disc flight. Although fluid dynamics and airfoil theory are rich areas of science and engineering, I won't trouble myself to establish a firm theoretical foundation for disc flight. Suffice it to say that, especially in windy conditions, the disc must be imparted with significant angular momentum (spin) and precise preparation for linear momentum (angle of attack, both to Earth plane and wind vector) at release to counter the forces of air drag and gravity and thereby satisfy the desired flight path to target. The spin is crucial as it reinforces the disc's center of gravity and resists the wind's power to turn it over. Preparing the disc for release is especially troublesome in wind because buffeting and turbulence can interfere with our ability to grasp and orient the disc properly during pivoting, extending and flicking. Disc preparation is a feat of calculation that is performed with real-time adjustments as we execute a throw in wind, and although our brains have unreal capacities for calculus, we cannot unfortunately see the force and direction of approaching winds. The physical and mental aspects of the throw are amplified at this exact moment of release, and so I encourage anyone practicing, perhaps on the beach where there are strong prevailing winds, to contemplate how we make these real-time adjustments.

General Guidelines

1. Low release: Most windy conditions are characterized by a quiet layer of air nearer to the ground. Because the wind strength is diminished by friction as it slides along the ground, preparing the disc for flight and getting the most out of your flick is easiest when the throw is made from and through this boundary layer. For these reasons it is also advisable to hold the disc with both hands for as long as possible while pivoting and extending to throw – it will make the process of disc preparation more efficient and less prone to bungling.

2. Spin: High angular momentum of the disc is paramount, especially in upwind throws, where the leading edge is being hammered by frictional forces: when the disc spin decreases to a critical amount, the flight path is no longer tenable as the disc precesses and heads south. Getting lots of spin on the disc is one of the basic challenges of throwing, so if practice doesn’t make perfect here, it is advisable (and shameless!) to get a little coaching. A strong grip is critical for high spin, especially for the forehand. A strong spin *with* a low release and you are golden under most conditions.

3. Practice! Obvious, but one must take it as a personal challenge to figure out what strategies *work* for them. Toward this end, I recommend throwing in a location with strong prevailing winds, like the beach, in preference over conditions when/where winds are blustery (i.e., speed and direction highly variable). Constant, strong wind conditions will give you the chance to practice the difficult stuff over and over again so you can test your varying approaches. Also, it is *important* to rotate your angle of attack on the wind direction. A best case scenario might be a two or three person box drill, where the thrower leads a 10-25 yard backhand to a cutter running counter-clockwise, that receiver then returns the favor, again going CCW, so that there are lots of throws and many different angles. Repeat as necessary.

4. Downwind: Huck away, my friend! as long as your target is a quarter mile downfield… I find downwind to be one of the most troubling situations, not only because high speed of travel make timing throws to space dicey, but also because the wind inherently stabilizes the flat path of the disc (if thrown right) and therefore makes “touch” throws to space a bit more easily defendable. I will often do whatever I can to get a little crosswind vector on the throw. If I must throw directly downwind it is best if the cutter is coming straight toward me to he/she can just take a bullet in the gut; for touch throws I find the high release to be a much more reliable option directly downwind. Practice your overheads downwind, too: this is a great red zone/half field option to have. Just remember that spin and release angle will be crucial here because the wind can be very different at 20 feet above your head…

Quick observations:

• Backhand with wind coming L-to-R: I love throwing an outside-in airbounce here (I’m a righty), one of my favorite throws as it has a tendency not to turn into a spinnaker (and wants to glide toward the target, picking up a little L-to-R action toward the end which is good for getting around the cutter’s defender or the cup.
• Forehand with wind coming L-to-R: a tricky one for me, but one can get *very* good accuracy a decent length if the disc is snapped well, kept low and release outside-in – do not go inside-out here!
• Backhand with wind coming R-to-L: best situation for the strong backhand thrower, similar to above, one should stay away from the big inside out, it will spinnaker on you. A spinny high-release IO fares better than a low release, at least in my experience. For the outside in you can generally just have at it if you remember to give tons of spin.
• Forehand with wind coming R-to-L: I don’t try this throw if I don’t have to! I’m not the best forehand thrower to begin with, but generally this condition makes preparing the disc very difficult as it tends to want to pop up or buffet in your hand as you extend to throw. Also, without the airbounce to help you on the forehand side, figuring the flight path is a tight squeeze. (I played one college season at UVM with a guy named Gene Wu who is the only fella I’ve ever seen who had a bona fide forehand airbounce: *beautiful*. I gave up working on it…) My weaknesses exposed, I encourage anyone out there to offer up hints on this forehand situation (or on anything I’ve posited above!).

No hints or fancy tips are any replacement for the encouragement to *practice* in strong, prevailing wind and to engage this natural aspect of the game with equal quantities of ambition and respect. Keep pushing your skills by attempting the seemingly “impossible” when you practice, but when it comes to game time remind yourself of what is the improbable! I look forward to any comments or discussions this post precipitates…  -- Simon

How important are offensive sets really?

John and I were chatting about a ho-stack offense the other day. We agreed that it seemed to allow for some different movement patterns than the traditional vert-stack. We've both played on different teams that have tried to implement a ho-stack with similarly terrible results. In our estimation, the trouble with the ho-stack had little to do with the offense itself and a lot to do with how we practiced/played it.

In my experience, learning a ho-stack was A LOT of chalk talk and walk-throughs. There was a great deal of discussion about where each receiver should be going, what space belongs to what player, the importance of being the proper distance from the handlers, etc. Unfortunately, while this discussion did a great job of taking up valuable practice time, it did a very poor job of teaching us how to play a ho-stack. John said that his experience involved players who didn't really have the inclination to learn a new offense.

All of which brings me to the point of this post. The offense that you play really matters very little. The important thing is being able to execute whatever offense you choose.  And the only way to improve execution is through repetitions.  I don't mean that the seven offensive players have played ho-stack hundreds of times on different teams, either.  The reps that matter are the reps that you get together as a team.

Can a ho-stack be better than a vert-stack for a certain group of players?  Sure it can.  Will simply instituting a ho-stack make that group of players perform better?  Not a chance.

Look at your team. Pick an offensive set. Get tons of reps.

What you don't see

Here's the scenario, the offense catches the pull and immediately advances the disc up the break side.  The defense arrives.  The handlers execute a perfect dump-swing to the force side.  As the disc is swung, the receiver at the front of the stack takes a hard two steps forward toward the break side and then turns and cuts deep along the break side of the stack.  The force side handler catches the swing and makes a beautiful forehand huck to the endzone where the deep cutting receiver catches it for a score.  Everybody celebrates and talks about the great throw and the great cut.

Strangely, nobody celebrates the action that actually caused the score.  Not only is this action not celebrated, it isn't even noticed by most players in the game or on the sidelines.  Truthfully, the player who took the action may not even realize the opportunity he created.  If asked, he might respond that he was just making the cut that "felt right" at the time.

The key man involved in this scoring play and involved in most scoring plays is the man who vacates the position where the disc ends up being caught.  In the scenario above, the last man in the stack was the key to the score.  As the disc was being swung, the last man in the stack took 2 hard steps deep and then cut back in toward the force side handler.  The defender assigned to the last man in the stack never saw the actual deep cutter because he was too worried about his man catching the disc underneath.  By actively clearing the deep space, the last man in the stack created a scoring opportunity without touching the disc.

I'd like you to re-imagine the above scenario, but this time let's make the last man in the stack a more typically unaware receiver.  The offense catches the pull and immediately advances the disc up the break side.  The defense arrives.  The handlers execute a perfect dump-swing to the force side.  As the disc is swung, the receiver at the front of the stack takes a hard two steps forward toward the break side and then turns and cuts deep along the break side of the stack. The force side handler catches the swing and makes a beautiful forehand huck to the endzone where the disc is knocked away by the well positioned "last back" defender.

The "last back" defender will be congratulated by his teammates for superior vision and anticipation.  And, in a way, he deserves this praise.  He was aware enough to recognize an offensive opportunity and thwart it.  He was not, however, forced to make a choice.  The receiver he was marking (Mr. Typically Unaware, last in the stack) did nothing to keep his attention. Because his receiver was no threat, the "last back" defender was free to survey the field and anticipate the offense's movement at his leisure.

The effects of active clearing are not only felt on deep throws.  Any area of the field is susceptible to clogging due to improper clearing.  We have all been told that "you have cut away as hard as you cut in", but few of us have considered why.  A cursory look at any struggling offense will show you a group of receivers who do not create space for one another through active clearing.

Thoughts from Pickup about throwing in the wind

At pickup on Sunday, I was trying to talk Simon into writing a post about throwing in the wind. He has some of the best throws I've ever seen and has a pretty sound understanding of the fundamentals.  While we wait for his thoughts on the topic, I will share my own.

Nothing causes throwers to regress like wind.  I know this because I feel like I step into a time machine set back 1 year whenever I throw in a strong wind.  My forehand really begins to break down.  Then, I start having second thoughts about throwing it in certain situations.  This, in turn, causes me to throw tentatively, which further degrades my fundamentals.  In the end, I'm only faking the forehand into the wind and throwing almost all backhands.

There are two things that throwers (and I) need to remember about throwing in the wind: the physics of the flight of the disc and the adjustments in offensive strategy.  

Physics of throwing in the wind

The key is to understand that the disc will follow its edge nearest to the wind.  By nearest to the wind, I mean nearest to that side of the field that is the source of the wind.  For example, if the edge nearest to the wind is pointed up, the disc will go up.  If the edge nearest to the wind is pointed down, the disc will go down. 

When throwing directly into the wind, the disc will always pop up or balloon.  Good throwers use this to allow their receivers extra time to run onto the disc.  Poor throwers are ambushed by the balloon effect.  It causes their throws to come up short or to go over the head of their intended receivers.  The key to controlling this effect is remember to put a lot of spin on the disc.

When throwing directly with the wind, the disc will always slip or drop down.  Good throwers are careful to put more air under dumps and other short throws while taking more shots down field. Bad throwers make tons of turnovers on short throws that drop in front of their intended receivers.

When throwing (right-handed) with a right to left crosswind, an outside-in forehand will balloon, an inside-out forehand will drop down, an inside-out backhand will balloon, and an outside-in backhand will drop down.

When throwing (right-handed) with a left to right crosswind, an outside-in forehand will drop down, an inside-out forehand will balloon, an inside-out backhand will drop down, and an outside-in backhand will balloon.

 

Adjustments in offensive strategy for wind

Simply put, the receivers must start their cuts nearer to the thrower. By moving the stack nearer to the thrower, the offense is able to threaten the space short and deep.  Remember, deep is a relative term.  If the stack sets up 10 yards from the thrower, then a 20 yard throw can be a "deep" throw.  The key is to force the defense to respect the area behind and in front of them.

When offenses fail in wind it is usually because the stack sets up too deep and the defense is able to poach on the short throws.  The thrower can't make a viable deep throw and the defense knows it.  This situation would be desperate even on a calm day.  Given that the wind is already affecting throws, however, setting the stack too deep is the kiss of death.

The other important strategic consideration is that field position can be more important than yardage.  Getting the disc to the high side (the upwind side) is as important as getting the disc down the field.  The high side allows a mediocre thrower to have several comfortable throwing lanes.  A mediocre thrower is almost guaranteed to turn the disc when on the very edge of the low side (the downwind side) simply because all of the throwing lanes available to him are both obvious and difficult.

Thoughts about Zone

There is a certain amount of effort that can be put out by any player for a given length of time. After this effort threshold is reached, the exhausted defensive player is no longer able to successfully defend his man while the exhausted offensive player just walks around. How long it takes a player to reach this threshold is a matter of technique and fitness, but in the end everybody craps out.

In man-to-man defense, the effort of each individual defender is (or should be) constrained by his match-up. The mechanism of this constraint is the effort of the offensive player. This concept is simple (and yet I've managed to convolute it). No man-to-man defender makes a 70 yard sprint, unless the offensive player he's covering makes a nearly identical 70-yard sprint a moment before. Similarly, no throw marker is constantly adjusting and readjusting his defensive position unless the thrower is also constantly pivoting and faking. In this way, defensive effort is almost completely determined by offensive effort.  This symmetry of offensive and defensive efforts has a certain beauty when you consider it.

However, I'd be a fool not to concede that this symmetry is the main reason why the offense has such an enormous advantage in Ultimate. Since even an ideal defender has to work at least as hard as his offensive counterpart, but the defender never knows exactly when or how the offensive player will move, the offensive player holds all the cards. Put another way, a great defender must prepare and commit to defending all likely offensive tactics and then actually defend the chosen tactic, while his offensive counterpart must merely select one and execute it.

In my opinion, the baseline goal of zone defense is to alter this dynamic between offense and defense (in a man-to-man defensive scheme). The goal of any zone should be to change the dynamic of the energy exchange (IE make the offensive player work harder than the defensive player). If a zone is not able to flip this dynamic to (at least slightly) benefit the defense, then there would seem to be little point in playing it.

How does a zone accomplish this goal?

The idea is to position field defenders and markers in such a way as to severely limit the options of a given thrower. This positioning should allow the zone field defenders to remain in relatively fixed positions while the offensive players scramble around trying to find the open spaces between/among the zone defenders. Obviously, the zone's ability to control the field space is inverse proportional to the offenses ability to move the disc. In other words, the more the disc moves, the less effective any zone can be and vice versa. In this way, we can see that the principle of defense (when the disc is at rest, the defense is able to hold the advantage over the offense; when the disc is in motion, the defense cannot hold the advantage over the offense) must be the guiding force behind a zone (as well as behind a man-to-man defense).

The positioning of defenders varies wildly from zone to zone, but most seem to boil down to this basic idea: offensive players far from the disc deserve less defensive personnel/attention than offensive players near the disc. This makes perfect sense as any long throw should give an attentive deep defender time to move toward toward the intended receiver. The ability to neutralize two offensive players with only one defender (in a given space) is crucial to the success of a zone. It gives the defense an extra man to play with. Typically this man is used as a supplementary marker.

A zone defense's success compared to man-to-man defense's success is directly attributed to this "extra" marker. The extent to which this "extra" marker is able to limit a thrower's options (IE increase a thrower's turn potential) is the extent to which the zone, as a whole, will be successful.

How do you "get open"?

On Fridays, I teach physical education to my 6th, 7th, and 8th grade students.  When the weather is nice (in early fall and late spring), we go to the park to either play baseball, football, basketball, or Ultimate.  When the weather is not conducive to outdoor sports, we go to a gym and play basketball exclusively.  I also do a little bit of phys ed every day during recess with my 7th grade students.  We play a variety of games (soccer, team handball, 500, and tag) in the back yard of the school.

The funny thing about working with junior high boys is the disparity in athletic ability among them. Some of my 8th graders are bigger than I am.  Some of my 6th graders are well under 5ft and 100 lbs. Most are in between. When these differently sized boys play together, it is almost like there are several games going on.  Each sport is radically different, depending each participant's level of physical maturity.  It is certainly odd to watch a 4'6" 80 lb kid contest the shot of a 6' 170 lb kid.

The experience of trying to teach the fundamentals of sport to these boys has forced me to really consider how sports work.  Most of us are trapped by our own talents when we try to explain certain skills.  We tend to take a certain level of athleticism for granted.  Imagine, though, trying to teach shooting fundamentals in basketball to a kid who does not yet have the strength to get the ball up to the rim.  You have to start from square 1.

Beyond the strength threshold required for shooting a basketball, there are more fundamental issues that the less physically mature kids have to deal with.  The main one, the one that cuts across almost every sport and game played by children (and by adults, for that matter), is how to get open.  How do you actually get away from somebody who is trying to stay close to you?

The flip side of this issue is the other fundamental question.  How do you stay close to someone who is trying to get away from you?

93% of Ultimate comes down to these twin issues.  And yet, it is almost assumed that everybody is proficient in getting open when covered and staying close to a man who is trying to get away from you.  The collective wisdom seems to be that you can be good at these twin skills if you "just try harder" or "concentrate".  This is, of course, nonsense.  What's worse, it is damaging nonsense born of ignorance.  The collective wisdom, as is often the case, only stifles questions and makes players feel bad about their game.  Think about it: what if when you were learning to drive a car and had no idea what you were doing, your instructor helpfully advised you to "concentrate" and to "just try harder".  Depending on your temperament, you either would have tried to end the lesson as quickly as possible or put on your seat belt and aimed the car at the nearest wall.  

When you boil it down there are only two components to getting open: strength and balance. These are basically the same for staying close.  In order to get open, you must be able to get to a spot on the field before your defender can get there.  The strength component comes from needing to push off the ground with more force than your defender is able to push off the ground.

Strength is speed.  If you can generate more force when pushing off the ground, you are faster.

But, being stronger by itself will not get you open. Obviously, you need the coordination to harness that strength and getting moving in whatever direction you choose in order for the strength to be useful.  This is where balance comes in.  A 175 lb man can generate about 1000 lbs of force when making a hard cut (if my physics is bad, somebody please correct me. I fear that 1000lbs may be too low).  This massive amount of force needs to be steered correctly or the man will simply fall over.  Balance allows the force created by strength to be directed properly.

So, how do you get better at getting open?  The easy answer is to work on your balance.  I call this the easy answer not because it doesn't take time and effort, but because you can work on your balance in the confines of Ultimate practice.  Playing games and doing drills that force you to accelerate, then stop, then change direction, then accelerate again will allow your body to learn how to get open more efficiently.  You will learn to better utilize whatever strength you have.  And although you won't really get much stronger, you will appear to get much faster because your same old strength will be harnessed better.

The harder answer is to work on your strength.  This cannot really be done during Ultimate practice.  Thus, it is "harder".  Strength work doesn't necessarily have to happen at the gym. Manual labor does an excellent job of making you stronger.  The trouble is that manual labor isn't available whenever we want it and for whatever duration we want it the way the gym is. Sadly, however, most people's gym habits are so poor that they would be better served doing 15 minutes of manual labor per week than spending 2 hours at the gym.

To work on the kind of strength that will help you "get open", you need to stay away from the machines.  They are a waste of your time.  Machines are too easy.  They control the weight for you.  They isolate muscles.  "Getting open", however, does not happen in isolation.  It requires you to use your whole body, specifically your lower body (more specifically, your posterior chain, but that is a detail beyond the scope of this blog).  Therefore, we look to lifts that also require us to use our whole body, specifically our lower body.  These lifts are: squats, lunges, deadlifts, and cleans.

These 4 lifts will make you stronger.  They will help you generate more force as you push off the ground.  Squats and lunges are incredibly useful in getting all of the muscles of your legs to work together.  I advise both because, although the movement is similar, lunges tax each leg individually while squats tax both legs at the same time.  Deadlifts are another full body exercise that will add strength and coordination to your legs, but also cause massive strength gains in your torso (core).  Cleans are probably the only full body lift that effectively mimics the explosiveness of getting open.  

Of these 4, cleans are the most technical with lunges being the least.  I recommend, however, working with somebody who knows what they are doing whenever you strength train.  The one advantage of machines is that because they unlikely to help you, they are also unlikely to hurt you.  Full-body lifts, on the other hand, can cause serious problems if they are done with poor form.  Find somebody who knows what they are doing, become a maniac about your form, keep the weight light, and get lifting.  

Good Offensive Communication

There is a spectrum of offensive communication.  On one extreme is the nonsensical offense that explicitly broadcasts its players' every move before, during, and after that move is made.  On the opposite extreme is the offense so secretive that the offensive players themselves have no idea what is going on.  Although both extremes are ridiculous caricatures, very few teams at the non-elite level seem to strike the appropriate balance between complete transparency and absolute secrecy.

It is not terribly difficult to see the advantages and disadvantages of the two extremes, but stating these might be helpful in clarifying our understanding of what "good offensive communication" is.

The advantages of the offense whose players broadcast each of their intentions and movements are surprisingly many. Throwers and receivers will exchange the disc optimally.  Receivers will coordinate their fakes and cuts with one another to allow for maximum impact and efficiency.  And, the overall offensive strategy can be altered on the fly in order to gain the greatest possible advantage over the defense.  In short, there is no chance of miscommunication among players in this offense.

There is only one disadvantage of this offense, but it is a devastating one.  The defense will know exactly what the offense is doing and plans to do.  They will know the offense's overall strategy as well as the individual offensive players' strategy at any given moment.  There is no element of surprise.  This single disadvantage nullifies all advantages.

There is only one advantage of an offense that is completely secretive, but it too is devastating. The defense will not know what the offense is doing.  They will always be on their heels.

Unfortunately, there are just too many disadvantages to name for the completely secretive offense.  They would include, but are not limited to: a high rate of turnovers, an incredible amount of wasted energy, major frustration, and poor utilization of specific player skills.

So, how should an offense communicate in order to gain all of the advantages of the extreme styles while not suffering from any of the disadvantages?

First, you must realize that, although explicit communication is a horrible on-field in-game strategy, it is a very good strategy on the sidelines and during practice.  Offensive players need to start somewhere when they practice running any offense.  Having them discuss exactly what they plan to do in a given situation is an incredibly useful exercise.  When players explain their tactics and listen to the tactics of others, they begin to get a feel for one another.  This feel allows them to work together and run the offense at a higher level.  The greater the transparency in practice, the less miscommunication among players in games.  This transparency should also extend to the sidelines during games.

Secondly, once players have a feel for one another, they are able to communicate in code.  They can read each other with just a look or a head nod.  Often, they will simply read one another's body language.  All of this successful non-verbal communication allows the offense to enjoy the element of surprise.  Thus, they have the advantage of the secretive offense, but they are all in on the secret.

In this way, offensive communication can combine the advantages of both transparency and secrecy to gain the maximum possible edge over a given defense.

The Reason Offenses Fail: Part II (Jury Duty Style)

Good offense starts with 2 basic commandments for all players involved:
1. Understand your purpose in the offense.
2. Be deliberate in your execution of that purpose.

Understanding your purpose in an offense is not an easy thing. For one, it assumes that your offense has a strategy (one more refined than "scoring goals"). Let's say, for example, that your offense's strategy is to get the disc into the hands of your big throwers in positions where they can huck to your big receivers. If you are a big thrower in this offense, your purpose is to get yourself into a position to huck and then huck the disc. If you are a non-big throwing handler in this offense, your purpose is to move the disc laterally (play catch) while looking to set up the big thrower in a position where he can huck the disc. If you are a big receiver in this offense, your purpose is to cut for big yardage by either cutting deep or by faking deep and then catching 20 yard unders. If you are a non-big receiver in this offense, your job is to actively clear space for the big receiver, make breakside cuts to relieve pressure, and move the disc laterally (play catch) when you catch it. These descriptions are somewhat simplified, but I feel they give an accurate notion of the purposes of the 4 different positions in that version of the run and shoot offense.

Understanding your purpose is not enough, however, to succeed as a part of a given offensive strategy. You must also deliberately execute that purpose. I use the word "deliberately" to emphasize the point that, in a good offense, everything happens for a reason. Good offenses succeed on purpose. They fail on purpose. Bad offenses succeed and fail accidentally.

When all seven offensive players execute their purposes deliberately, they each move around the field with confidence.  They move like they mean it.  This sort of purposeful, coordinated movement destroys defenses. When an offense moves this way, it drastically reduces unforced errors (the bane of every offense) because:

1. There is no miscommunication.

2. Individual weaknesses are avoided.

Seven players working together while doing the things they are best at should be the goal of any offense.  So why don't we see it more often?

Reason 1: There is no offensive strategy. No individual can be expected to understand and deliberately execute his purpose if that purpose doesn't exist.  Without an overarching offensive strategy, no player has a meaningful purpose.  This is a failure of leadership.

Reason 2: Players are not able to understand a given purpose or offensive strategy.  This one just comes down to repetition.  The movements and responsibilities of positions in Ultimate are not impossibly complex even for a novice.  They just take time.  How much time depends on the player's skill level and experience.  Sadly, this isn't a failure of anybody.  It's a reality. Sometimes, some players just shouldn't be on the field until they get more reps in practice.

Reason 3: Players are not able to execute a given purpose or offensive strategy.  This one doesn't come down to repetition.  People have physical limitations.  Smart players figure out what they can't do and develop ways of working around that.

Drills/Games for Offense

First, I'm just going to quote Jim Parinella's thoughts on drills.  I do this because he is succinct and smarter than I am.

Good drills: get lots of reps, offer a chance to reflect on whether you did the right thing or not, require decision-making, fatigue you, mimic some aspect of ultimate.

Bad drills: have lots of down time, have poorly-designed incentives, have an easy way to get around the purpose of the drill, simulate something artificial."

I think that the drills/games I wrote out for defense satisfy some of Jim's excellent "good drill criteria".  I also think that many of the defense drills/games cover the movement skills needed by receivers on offense.  This leaves only the skills of throwing and catching to be dealt with in this post.

I will echo Jim's words once more when I say that I hate so-called "flow drills".  These drills involve players in two or three lines moving in set patterns with no defenders.  I'm still not really sure what the point is.  Flow has everything to do with anticipation and reacting to what the defense is giving you.  "Flow Drills" seem to cancel out both of these.  I hate them.  That's all I'll say.

Drills

Useful throwing and catching games/drills are all based around playing catch.  Any drill or game that gets too far from playing catch is likely a waste of time.  One of the problems with many throwing/catching drills is that they incorporate too many other skills to be useful.  The easiest example of this is the "endzone drill".  I'm not sure what the point of the "endzone drill" is, but it cannot be throwing or catching or cutting or anything resembling what actually occurs in the game.  This drill has tons of downtime, too few reps, and reinforces useless movement patterns.

Anyway, back to playing catch. It's wonderfully simple.  The thrower can work a single type of throw a given number of reps, throwing different throws to a specific spot (between the numbers, right hand, left hand, etc), throwing with different trajectories (high release, air bounce, outside-in curves, inside-out curves, etc), and different speeds (hangers, bullets, feathers, etc).  The receiver can work on specific catches (1 hand righty, 1 hand lefty, 2 hand crab, 2 hand pancake, etc), on different aggression (snapping his hand out to meet the disc, letting the disc fly until the last possible moment, etc), and on different hand position (hands extended out in front, hands extended out to the side, etc).

The amazing thing about playing catch is the sheer number of quality reps you can get in a short time IF YOU TREAT IT AS A DRILL.  Unfortunately, most people laze their way through it and get very little out of it.  Also, it really shouldn't be played by more than 3 people.  More than that and you should split into pairs with as few triplets as possible.  Remember, it's all about reps.

Games

The games for improving throwing and catching are just versions of in-game situations in isolation and real games with limitations.

In-game situations in isolation

1. One on One.  This game has 3 players: a thrower, a defender, and a receiver.  The thrower is placed on the sideline and pretends to be forced sideline.  The receiver attempts to beat the defender either on the under or deep.  The defender tries to stop the receiver from getting the disc.  Simple rule: the receiver can only make 1 fake.  This forces the receiver to be decisive and reactive to what the defense is giving.  Note: a head fake before the receiver starts moving does not count as his fake.

2. Quick throws.  This game has 2 players.  The players stand 5 yards apart.  Their goal is to complete as many passes as they can in 90 seconds.  This game is played as a competition with the pair either trying to beat their previous best or beat the best of the other pair(s) on the team.  This game works on touch throws, grip transfer from catching to throwing, and concentration.

Real games with limitations

1. 3 on 3 to 3.  This game has 6 players: 3 on each team. It is played half field and make it take it. There is a hard cap at 3.  This game forces players to be involved at all times on offense, to anticipate and make continuation cuts, to handle the disc.

2. Stall 4 game to 3.  This variation is simply normal Ultimate with the stall count reduced to 4.  It is played full field and make it take it.  There is a hard cap at 3. This game forces players to move the disc at all costs and to make efficient cuts.

**note: the reason these games are played with a hard cap at 3 and make it take it is to reduce the down time that plagues most scrimmages.**

The One.

Almost nothing is as deflating as the high stall count turnover. Here's one common scenario: a mediocre thrower has possession of the disc.  The stall count gets to 6.  He doesn't turn and look for the dump.  The stall count gets to 7.  The dump cut is now smothered by the field defenders.  The thrower looks uncertainly out at the stack.  Players in the stack look at each other.  Stall 10.  

This scenario isn't exactly what happens on every high stall count turnover, but it has the one feature that almost all high stall count turnovers share: uncertainty.  The thrower knows he is in trouble, but he doesn't know who to look for in order to get out of it.  The receivers know the thrower is in trouble, but they don't know who is supposed to go get the disc.  In short, the offense has ground to a grotesque halt.  Everybody is flatfooted.  The disc is still.  The defense has won.

My solution to this particular turnover is for the offense to name "The 1" before they signal readiness to receive the pull. "The 1" ("el uno", "il primero", etc.) is a fixer (kinda like George Clooney in Michael Clayton.  When the offense goes horribly wrong, he must come and fix it. The presence of "the 1" on the field eliminates any uncertainty.  As soon as anybody feels they are in trouble, they square up to "the 1" and prepare to throw to him as soon as he gets himself open.

Obviously, not every player can be "the 1".  Being "el uno" means that you have to be able to get open whenever you feel like it.  If you can, then you are eligible to be "il primero".  It also means that you've got to have good hands.  Throwers tend to panic when they are in trouble in high stall counts.  This panic causes them to make some pretty lol throws.  Being "the 1" also means that you cannot cut deep after "stall 2".  You have to be able to come back and get the disc by "stall 7".

I think that naming "the 1" before the point begins (assuming whoever is named has the skills required) is a simple way to cut down on those pesky turnovers.

The Reason Offenses Fail Part I (jury duty style)

**note: this post was written during jury duty while I was waiting to be called.  It was super boring.  I think that I might be the only person who attempts to alleviate his boredom by writing Ultimate strategy posts**

I have written before about the plague of unforced errors that infects almost all Ultimate offenses at the non-elite level.  To recap, I posited that 55% of all offensive possessions end with an unforced error turnover.  I'd like to explore this phenomenon a little more deeply to try to figure out the root causes for all of these unforced errors.

The first thing that needs to be dealt with when looking for the root causes of the unforced error problem is the fallacy of equality.  The fallacy of equality states that because Ultimate is different from other sports (because it is based around spirit and respect for opponents) and any player can have good spirit and respect his opponents, all players are pretty much equally skilled. Subscribers to this fallacy tend to see Ultimate as a way of life, an attitude, and a social outlet first, and as a sport second.  Again, I want to say that there is nothing wrong with believing in this fallacy.  It is a very positive (yet undeniably flawed) way to view the world.  It is just not a view that I am interested in.

At the elite college and club level, nobody subscribes to this fallacy.  The coaches, captains, and players on these elite teams are not afraid to say: "you suck at ______, I don't want you doing it anymore. Stick to what you're good at". And not only are they not afraid to say it, but they also coordinate their on-field play so as to avoid relying on a player's sucky skills.  This kind of honest assessment is very freeing for most players (yes, you'll get some people who can't handle criticism of any kind, but you're probably better off without them).  When a team leader makes an honest assessment of your game, it allows you to concentrate on doing what you do best.  It also focuses you on what skills you need to improve.

By assessing players in this way, elite teams create a division of labor within themselves. Handlers handle because that is what they are best at and what most helps the team, not because they "really want to".  Primary receivers are the offenses number one look because that is what they are best at and what most helps the team, not because they "deserve a chance". But, honestly, those aren't the players who truly benefit from the division of labor.  Those players would probably play well anyway.  The players who truly benefit from the division of labor are players whose games have severe flaws and severe strengths.  The division of labor allows these players to show off all of their strengths while hiding their weaknesses. 

At the levels below elite, however, the fallacy of equality can be found with regularity.  Time and again, players at these levels find themselves in positions on the field and situations in games in which they are highly unlikely to succeed.  And while some of these bad positions/situations can be chalked up to the chaos that is part of any free-flowing sport, most can be attributed to poor strategy and poor understanding of Ultimate.  For example, player A cuts well and plays hard defense, but is a mediocre thrower at best.  Player A's team is on offense being forced forehand. Player A makes a great cut from the stack to the force side along the sideline beating his defender by two steps.  He catches the disc and turns downfield to survey his options.  His marker traps him hard against the sideline.  Player A makes a few flailing pivots and then throws the disc away on stall 9.  Player A feels horrible about causing a turnover and apologizes to his teammates, but he really shouldn't.  The turnover wasn't really his fault. It was the inevitable result of the poor offensive strategy of his team.

Because nobody ever told Player A that his limited throwing ability meant that he was not allowed to make certain cuts, he made a cut that should really only be made by a talented thrower.  Player A is not at fault because nobody ever told him that it was not his job to make that cut. Nobody ever told him that the sidelines were poison to his skill set.  Nobody told him that his home was the middle and breakside thirds of the field.  And, most certainly, nobody told him that given his particular mix of talents, his job within the offense was to make breakside cuts, move the disc laterally as soon as he caught it, and catch goals.

On many non-elite teams, nobody tells anybody anything (or if they do, nobody really listens). And so, many non-elite teams are a hodgepodge of accidents.  They turn the disc accidentally. They score accidentally.  They make a D accidentally.  They give up a big score accidentally.  The one truth of the fallacy of equality is that if you choose to follow it, all of your players will likely end up feeling equally bad.