Thoughts.

The Huddle’s Andrew Fleming has a great analogy for this, in his article on being the deep defender when you hear the “Up!” Call:

Have you ever sat a stoplight and watched the light for the other direction turn from green to yellow to red? When your light finally turns green, it’s just a confirmation of what you already knew was about to happen. How much quicker are you off that line if you’re peeking at the other light versus waiting for yours to change? That’s the difference between reacting and anticipating on D. When I hear that “up” call, I want to already know what throw is coming and already be poised to jump on it.

He very succinctly summarizes the components of good, anticipatory D.

Anticipation means not only knowing the current situation and recognizing which throws are most likely, but also learning how to read people and recognizing opportunities to make the play.

General things you should be aware of as an anticipatory defender, as much as possible (in rough order of importance–feel free to dispute my rankings or add others in the comments)

1. The position of the disc on the field relative to you and your man
2. How long the disc has been in that position–is it in motion for a potential unmarked huck/throw? Is it stall 7 or 8, so you should really be heads-up for a swilly bail-out throw?
3. The capabilities of the thrower. Is it the stud thrower, who can not only jack it, but break the mark to do so? Is it somebody who’s only going to throw to under cuts?
4. The force (the person on the mark). Which side of the field should passes be going to? How likely is it that the mark will hold and not get broken?
5. The conditions. Is it rainy? Are you going upwind and can dictate out with more confidence? Is there a crosswind that would cause a throw to your expected side of the field to float or sink more than usual?
6. Your man’s preferences. Are they a relentless deep threat? Do they prefer to stick around the disc? Keep in mind they may still take what you give them, even if it’s not what they prefer.
7. What, if anything, has the other team as a whole been beating you with? If they’re exploiting the around break, be prepared to pounce on a somewhat floaty around throw (and adjust when you’re on the mark as well). If they love to jack it, start backing your man or otherwise make sure you’re always in a position to strike on the huck.

All of these bits of information, summed together, should allow you to make a few adjustments:

1. What cut you choose to defend primarily–what’s the biggest (and most viable) threat at this moment?
2. What cuts you choose to respect–if it’s really windy and the player with the disc does not look confident in her upwind forehand, you can give a cushion of at least a few steps when your woman goes deep (but beware the dump/swing to a more confident thrower in motion).
3. Where you expect the throw to go to. This is particularly important at high stalls, when a less-than-perfect throw might come suddenly and surprise you. If you expect to see a throw to the forehand side of the field, allow for the possibility of a stall-9 blade.
4. Whether or not you poach off of your man (!). If you’ve evaluated your man to be less of a threat in their current position than some other play–your man prefers to cut under, but their big thrower has the disc and you see somebody setting up the deep cut–you can sometimes get away with devoting less attention to your man and more attention to the play in action.

This is a lot of information to process at once on the field. It’s impossible (In my opinion) to consciously take in all of this information and still play at 100% intensity (you’ll be thinking too much). However, you can learn to intuit things, or give yourself reminders before the point. The disc’s position should eventually become a natural sense; for me, I can often discern where the frisbee is by the sound of a catch or reading my man and, if in a straight stack, the other men on offense (be wary of eye fakes). You can cultivate an internal stall clock to anticipate high-count situations (or perhaps your teammate will count loudly enough for you to know with certainty). Conditions and the force, you should be aware of before the point begins(or at least before the disc is tapped in on a stoppage). Strive to cultivate an intuitive sense of what space is threatened and in which space (and at what times) your opponent is not a threat to get the disc. I find it usually helps to remind myself of the force on D just before the pull goes up (if I’m starting on D or O), and to spend some time (doesn’t need to be more than 10 seconds or so) trying to visualize the wind vector and anticipating which throws will float or sink on D (and how to compensate with my own throws).

You can, of course, rehearse a lot of these situations through visualization. Cutting schematics can go a long way towards guiding you here–draw up novel situations, impose different conditions, and then try and picture yourself in them.

In addition to recognizing situations in terms of general expectancies, strive to learn the signs that a play is coming–learn to read throwers. You can do this on a team-by-team basis if their system is transparent; you can also learn to read individuals. Eventually, you will start to pick up on tells that are more across-the-board; players who are not skilled in showing fakes or making quick decisions in particular become easy reads with enough attention. There’s a certain look–not quite “Deer in the Headlights”, but a similar single-minded tunnel vision, when a thrower goes from “scanning/evaluating” mode to “preparing to throw” mode. Mid-level cutters get a similar look when they’re in the lane, if you’re trying to read their fakes.

Don’t think too much on the field; simply pay attention and make associations through experience. Eventually, you’ll develop an intuitive sense and good defense will become more automatic (it never becomes fully automatic–invariably there’s always some external condition you should be taking note of). Learn when you can afford to think on the ultimate field, and learn when you need to stop thinking and just make the play. Anticipation will put you in position, but you still have to execute.

I don’t know that there’s a player in ultimate frisbee who’s sucessful that doesn’t have confidence. More often than not in surplus; occasionally fragile and easily broken, sometimes shelved for the appearance of “spirit’s” sake, but always there.

You NEED to have confidence to be successful. But you also need to be successful to have confidence, don’t you? How do you develop one without the other?

A few thoughts to this end.
1)You can learn it elsewhere. Even without much success as an “ultimate player,” prior success as an athlete is transferable. Being successful outside of the athletic field can also be transferable, but in such instances the transfer of confidence has less to do with your body’s performance and more to do with your ability to plan, work, and execute (perhaps more important to long-term success in this sport).

2) You can get lucky (or have some natural talent). It’s astounding how much of our lives are decided by a couple fluky moments. Gamblers–”beginner’s luck” is not so because all beginners are lucky, but because the lucky beginners wind up sticking with it and getting hooked. Same with ultimate, or any other endeavor you pursue. Think back to your first experiences with this sport. It’s very unlikely that you struggled greatly out of the gate–too much discouragement would’ve sent you packing. It’s much more likely you found some fascination in your ability to throw a frisbee the right way every once in a while, or played in a tournament early on and caught or threw a goal or something similar.

3) You can persevere. Typically if you don’t get lucky, and don’t have another field to draw confidence from for prior experience, you’re in it for your friends, or the girls (guys), or some other extrinsic reward (perhaps another successful player inspired you to aspire for similar heights). This leads you to playing and improving.

Ultimately (pun intended), you work. Natural gifts are not the rule, and there are so many dimensions to this sport that nobody steps in with a complete toolset. You work, and you improve, and seeing this improvement gives you confidence. You know, when you step on to the field next–”I have worked and I have improved, and I will see better results as a consequence.” And this positive mental feedback often leads to better performance.

Issues come when adversity or bad luck gets our mental cycle off track–a few bad throws, you get burned deep despite feeling faster than you ever have, etc. Doubt creeps in, failure continues to grow, and a negative feedback cycle leads to diminished performance.

You MUST develop a strength of mindset to weather these rough patches. When I talk about confidence, THIS is what I’m really referring to. A lot of it comes from experience, but you can compensate for a lack of experience with a healthy mindset. By “healthy” I don’t mean “positive;” only a fool or a hopeless romantic will continue to see daises when the weeds are growing. But you cannot let the weeds dominate the landscape, either. Simply get to work removing them, eliminating negative thoughts and taking action to correct for perceived shortcomings.

I feel as though one of my best assets as a player is my mindset; as a very analytical person, I typically remain emotionally detached with regards to my performance–sure, I want to do better, but I don’t ever get too high or too low on myself, merely motivated to do better.

In times of struggle, find something to latch on to that you know to be true about yourself. If you find your throws failing you, invest more in your legs. If your offense is suffering, redouble your focus on your defense. Draw from one well of confidence and don’t dwell on your drought elsewhere; while you can tend to the drought directly and, slowly, refill the well that has emptied, it only needs a little guidance to get on the right track (if you’re self-aware enough, you can diagnose what needs to be done yourself; otherwise, get some coaching or let it be). You can channel your emotions more productively into a different aspect of your game, instead of struggling against the force of those emotions in the aspect that’s created it.

Apologies if I’m getting too metaphorical. Know that confidence is a skill like any other; it can be practiced and improved. Being confident in your own capabilities will always lead to better performance; it may not always manifest in success (this is an important distinction), and there may come a time when you need to re-evaluate your approach and change it to get better results for your team. But never lose confidence in your ability. Work hard, develop confidence, and hold it tight.

See the frisbee clearly when you catch it.

Give it a try sometime when you’re tossing. Don’t judge based on initial results–you have to learn to trust your body, and your body has to learn that you’re trusting it, which can take a little while–but let it go for 10, 15 minutes and see if you don’t notice a difference, an extra ease to your motion. And then see if you can’t carry that same ease and relaxation into your in-game performance, too.

Been thinking on the topic a bit lately.

A few things. I think intensity is one of the main factors separating the contenders from the pretenders, and the ability to play intense and maintain intensity is key to having success at a tournament (or really, any sort of high-level athletic competition).

I also think that a lot of people mistake intensity as being really “into” what you’re doing, frothing at the mouth, a win-at-all-costs sort of mentality. That’s not the right mentality, I don’t think.

Put simply, intensity is being extremely focused, blocking out any and all extraneous factors and focusing fully on one’s play.

I don’t think it’s something that comes naturally; the natural urge is either to be carefree (in low-level play) or to be anxious/overwhelmed (in high-level/important games). Intensity is something that is practiced, something you learn, and only then does it come “naturally.” It takes a strong motivating force to be intense. If you don’t care about the result, if you’re not fully invested in the consequences of your actions, then you will be unable to convince your body to push itself to its uppermost bounds and you will underperform.

I know I’m not the only one who’s gone to a practice or started the first game of a tournament with my mind elsewhere–the last class I was at, how tired I am, whatever happened at last night’s party–and that, coupled with a lack of devoting time to refocus on ultimate (maybe you missed warm-ups, or the team arrived late and didn’t have time to run endzone drill for more than a couple touches per person) leads to a completely, utterly flat first point. If you survive long enough maybe you’ll come out of it and start playing for serious mid-point; other times you’ll set up on the wrong side and give up an easy break huck for the goal, or make a drop on a routine catch 10 yards from your endzone and give up the quick score. Then you come out for a point, whip your ass into gear, and get your a-game going. Maybe it still takes a while longer. Maybe you’ve just planted the seeds of doubt that have you playing tentative all day.

Or maybe you’re just playing in your summer league, pickup with some buddies, whatever–and you just play abysmally. Your throws all go to shit, you’re making crap cuts, whatever. It’s a lack of focus.

I think a lot of people pair intensity and focus, in the sense that, they need to have that fire churning and (perhaps) their more unrelenting, assholish qualities expressed in order to sufficiently focus on their play (there’s always at least one on every team; some keep it in check better than others). I usually try and keep the fire and the focus as separate entities (though not wholly separate). Most people who know me know I’m not overly emotional, I’m very analytical, I like to keep things in perspective as much as I can.

I’ve found, though, that usually when I’m playing at my best it’s because I let go of that more laid-back mentality and fully invest myself in what I’m doing. I came to the revelation that I needed to amp up my intensity probably mid-late winter last year, when we were playing on the turf fields and Watson was just playing out of his mind, laying out for this and that, really busting ass. I took great offense at the fact that I was getting out-bid by him (the bid was pretty much my domain on the B-team last year) and I came to realize that while I was running around, keeping warm, and touching the disc every now and then, mostly just tossing on the sidelines, Watson was sprinting, making the most of every chance he had to push himself and get better on the field, even if it was a 3v3, relatively low-key practice (we were all freezing).

So it was that my number one goal for the spring became to play with more intensity. It came a little over spring break, but I don’t have any particularly strong recollections of good, strong intensity over the course of the week and a half (the focus was fun, especially for the b-team, after all), but I distinctly remember the breakthrough, playing at Burple Valley that spring.

We had a couple (dare I say it, even a few) close games that weekend. We were throwing our better players out about as often as they could take it; I wound up playing 80-90% of the points out of necessity, being one of a few ‘quality’ handlers (read: consistent flick) and a bit of ego, not wanting to come out after giving up a point or when the score was close, and only subbing out for a point when I did sit.

Those were some great games. I think we wound up going 2-1 or 2-2 that day (I forget if it was a one-day, party that night tournament, or perhaps the Sunday games weren’t notable), winning our games on universe point or something very close to it. Anyways, I was really, really happy with how I played. Fully invested in the game when it was happening, really letting it all out, especially on defense (offense got to be frustrating when I was stuck making handler cuts when I wanted to be burning my man deep–but alas, we often lacked the depth on a line to run a consistent deep game). That was really my breakthrough; after that, I’ve never felt disappointed with my intensity level at tournaments (practices can vary widely).

I think it’s really important as a leader, or really for anybody on a team, that you’re able to play intense, inspired ultimate. Not necessarily being rageful, but intense enough that it shows. Intense enough that everybody knows you’re not about to let the other team beat you on anything other than your own terms. If you can carry yourself with that sort of intensity, have that level of confidence, teammates will definitely see it and feed off of it. If you let your play sag, if you’re tentative, unsure, noncommittal, your teammates will see that too. Morale is an amazing thing–keep a positive attitude, always.

I read Buster Olney’s Last Night of the Yankee Dynasty not too long ago, and one of the things he pointed to as a contributing factor to their world title run in the late ’90s was their unwavering confidence (exemplified by none other than pretty-boy, how-the-hell-did-you-win-another-gold-glove Jeter), the feeling that, even if the opposing team was ahead, invariably they would make their comeback. They never gave in, and they expected nothing less than victory. Expectations of such great magnitude have their own ramifications, but such a mentality has its place.

I think it’s a great mental framework to work with. I did my best to keep up this mentality (and do my best to inspire it in others) at Brown, and I think it worked great. Particularly in the UMass game, it would’ve been very easy to roll over, down 9-4. But we stuck to our guns. We came back to force universe point, and after we’d gotten our first break I knew we could win it. That was simply how it had to be; once we got fired up and took the impetus off ourselves–we’d nothing to lose, coming from behind; it’s all on them to make their plays, to shut us down, to put us away–once we made a crack in that dam, the doubt began seeping through, and it eventually came crashing down. Even though we lost it on universe point, we’d gotten the turn and gotten the disc within 10 yards of their zone–we both know they lucked out, escaping by the skin of their teeth. An all-around great game.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Dartmouth is capable of taking the region. I’m sure the other teams will be working hard, but I just look at the team, and at the talent of the players we have, and I know we’ve only scratched the surface of our full potential. We’ve got to bust ass and train diligently to get there, but that mountain isn’t too big. We’ve got the gear, put it to use the right way and we’ll work our way to the top in no time. I’m excited.