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).