UCPC Review, Part 4 ("Applying Mental Toughness Strategies to Ultimate," Tiina Booth)
Back to the UCPC recaps. I dropped the ball on these for a while, but the last two presentations I wanted to recap are the two that easily contain the most information to apply to an ultimate team. Both given by championship coaches–this one by Tiina Booth, coach of the ever-dominant Amherst Regional High School team, the second by Nathan Wicks, who took Brown to two National College titles–there’s a ton of insight to be gleaned.
Tiina’s presentation focused specifically on applying a lot of what Dr. Goldberg was talking about in his keynote speech. ARHS has been working with Dr. Goldberg for at least a couple years, from what I could gather.
I think one of the main things to keep in mind with all the information I have here is that, while it’s likely that a lot of the things Tiina does with her team does help, the comparison between ARHS and the overwhelming majority of high school teams is such that they would easily still be a top team without applying many of these methods. Don’t assume that anything here will instantly transform a team into a top talent.
Tiina broke up what she does with her team into three parts: pre-season, practice, and tournaments.
In the pre-season, Tiina spoke about goals and goal setting–drawing a large distinction between “outcome goals”–ie, things which you don’t have direct control over, but can influence (like “make nationals”–obviously, every team that sets that as a goal cannot reach it, but it is something to strive for), and “process goals,” which are things you DO have direct control over (like developing a consistent IO forehand break, or being able to run a 75-second 400. Obviously, these need to be realistic goals–nobody’s going to be able to reach a goal of an 8-second 100, or the like). Tiina said that the pre-season is the ONLY time they talk about outcome goals, whereas with process goals every player on the team will have their own individual process goals which they will write on an index card. Tiina has her players list 3 goals at a time. Every two weeks they’ll revisit the process goals, checking off or crossing out every completed process goal and writing in new ones so that players a) always have something to work towards and b) will ideally be making consistent, measurable progress that is easily measured with a glance.
Tiina further augments this process through a “buddy” system, where her older, more experienced players will be paired with newer, less-experienced ones, and they’ll help to hold each other accountable to their goals. The older players will also help the younger players in setting realistic, attainable goals, as well as generally offering guidance and support, on and off the field. This is a relationship that persists throughout the entire season, as all the players build on their process goals towards concrete, on-field results.
In practice, Tiina first spoke about the importance of people having so-called “great practices,” where a player’s focus is high and everything goes well. Tiina emphasized that while it’s certainly not possible for all players to have great practices all the time, it’s usually the case that at least a few will have a great practice on any given day. What she does is, she’ll ask at the end of a practice–”Who had a great practice today?”–and to those players that did, she’ll tell them to remember what it FEELS like, to try and hold on to that sense of confidence, and to carry it with them into tournament play.
She also went over some of the things that go along with having a great practice: high team spirit and enthusiasm (Tiina likes to say that “False enthusiasm is just as good,” and she’s right–false enthusiasm is just as contagious as the real thing, creating a positive self-feeding cycle rather than a negative one); drilling well–putting 100% effort and focus into everything practiced, keeping high standards for the team; and setting goals while scrimmaging–picking a player to cover who you know will be a challenge to guard, for example.
Ultimately, one of Tiina’s main goals in practice is to push the team beyond its comfort zone, to have them “Get comfortable being UN-comfortable,” so the team can relax as tournaments, which have a relatively lower intensity level. She also stressed the importance of eventually giving the team ownership of itself–a good coach will guide the team without constraining it.
With regards to tournaments, Tiina liked to compare them to a theatrical performance, where a team goes out and performs just as it rehearsed–Jim Parinella made a more apt comparison, though, in saying that a tournament is more like an improvisational comedy performance, where there are preset rules to follow for success, but within the framework of those rules there is plenty of room for adjustment to a given circumstance.
Tiina stressed that, in tournaments, as a coach she does very little micromanaging and absolutely does NOT introduce anything new to the team–she lets them play (though she won’t hesitate to tell her team to get its ass in order if it’s slacking). When it comes time to talk to the team, she’ll pick one or at most two things to focus on, keeping it simple and to the point, so as not to take her players out of a performance mindset.
She likes having a ritual warm-up for her team, and this is one of the things she lets her team take ownership of–especially for a team like ARHS, where they’re always under the scrutiny of somebody, and often play in games with decent-sized audiences, having the escape of a ritual warm-up definitely works towards reaching an optimal performance state.
In-game, Tiina is adamant about having strong, active sidelines–in many situations, players will be assigned to different parts of the field, rotating between the near and far sideline so nobody is too disconnected from the rest of the team, or talking to different roles (for example, “buddies” can talk to each other when one is in and the other out). When it comes to sidelines, she always wants her sidelines to be up and in the game regardless of score, regardless of situation, regardless of team morale–the sidelines should never be a tell of the team pulse.
Attitude-wise, at tournaments the attitude should always be positive, loose, and relaxed. It’s important to push in practice, but at tournaments it’s far more important to relax and just play the game the way you know how. Hand-in-hand with this is dealing with mental traps, distractions, etc. Dealing with mental blocks is often as simple as acknowledging the distraction and moving on, rather than trying to ignore it. Like Dr. Goldberg says, it’s not a matter of how well you can stay focused, but how quickly and easily you can recognize a loss in focus and re-focus. She said that, if she’s got a player who’s really in their own head, she’ll force them to take a break, tell them to go for a jog and try and work through whatever mental blocks they have, and come back ready to play.
Lastly, Tiina does a team morale check of sorts before games–she’ll ask what kind of nervous the team is: good, bad, or not nervous enough. In the case of the first, it’s good to have some jitters and be a bit aroused in anticipation of playing. In the case of the second, bad nervous often has to do with uncontrollables–worried about losing to a good team, worried about impressing the parents, etc. In dealing with these sorts of blocks, it often helps to list the uncontrollables that you are or might be getting hung up on in order to better acknowledge and deal with them. In the case of the third, which can happen when playing a team that ARHS knows it is far better than, Tiina or the team will agree to up the ante a bit by setting some harder process goals for themselves–zero turnovers, etc.
In an effort to reduce the level of distraction of her team (though I think this is kind of silly), Tiina never refers to the opposing team by name. In the vein of keeping the focus on the self (Tiina also never lets her players scout other teams, since it changes their focus), every team is numbered accordingly with their place in the season (team #1 is the first team, etc).
That sums up my notes on Tiina’s presentation. A ton of really, really good stuff to apply there.
UCPC Review, Part 3 (Keynote Speech, Dr. Alan Goldberg)
I wrote this up in the hotel at Vegas, trying to stay more concise than my usual rambling fare. The presentation was very informative, and Dr. Goldberg gives a very convincing argument for coming over to his way of thinking. I was going to put a link pointing to the downloads section of the UCPC website, where Devlin’s audio recording of the keynote was posted previously, but it seems that somebody has mandated it be taken down. Your loss!
Anyhow, below are some of the main points Dr. Goldberg made:
•The mind, body, and performance are all related. The Mind’s conceptions of what you should focus on and do, and how you might fare, in turn influences your body, effecting basic physiological changes—your muscles tighten, your breath gets shallower, you essentially can “psych yourself out,” all through the power of suggestion that comes when you think about performance. Even seemingly positive thoughts such as “I won’t drop the disc” are still rooted in failure and prime your body for it. And the Body’s state in turn influences one’s performance, which effects how your mind perceives your ability, and so on…
•The distinction between the “right mindset” and the “wrong mindset” for optimal performance is as simple as the difference between being “in the experience” or “in your head.” When focusing on the experience itself, one should relax, trust one’s skill and LET IT HAPPEN. Practice is when you work and refine your skills, when you’re performing you need to let your body do what it’s been trained to do. Staying in the present, and focused on yourself and your teammates, and things you can directly control, are all part of the “right mindset.” The “wrong mindset,” on the other hand, comes when you are trying too hard, or are too tentative, because you are too focused on the OUTCOME and not focused enough on the PROCESS. Thinking about the last play that just happened, or what might happen if you score this goal, or generally focusing on things you can’t directly control (like your opponents) will all put you in the “wrong mindset,” elevating your stress, lowering your confidence, and therefore lowering your overall level of play.
•The distinction between the fore and hindbrain—the forebrain is where you process thoughts, essentially where cognition takes place. Your hindbrain is where your intuitive knowledge rests, in a sense your more primitive understanding of things. Optimal performance hinges on your staying in the hindbrain, where you have easy access to intuited skills like throwing, rather than the forebrain where you’re too busy processing to react quickly and decisively.
•Finally, Dr. Goldberg emphasized that it is not focus itself, but controlling the loss of focus, that allows you to stay in an optimal performance state. EVERYBODY loses focus—the best are better able to recognize these lapses and put themselves back on target sooner. You can practice/train your mental facilities in this regard through things like meditation—Dr. Goldberg suggests focusing on a Frisbee, set aside somewhere, for set periods of time, recognizing and acknowledging distractions and letting them go to refocus on the disc. Eventually he says you can get to a point where you can set the disc on top of a TV and still maintain focus on the Frisbee.
Getting Into the Zone
Sent this out to the team a few minutes ago, warrants blogging about, too…
Came accross this article the other day about “getting into the optimal performance state,” ie the zone:
http://www.taisdata.com/articles/optimal.pdf
(short summary below. Socks: free summary! look!)
Basically, it takes a lot of practice at a given skill to be able to do it at a preconcious level and get into the zone, and it’s essential to maintain focus (or rather, lack of focus–things come automatically), and to recover from any distractions ASAP–confidence in your abilities is essential.
Of note, stumbling blocks to self-confidence include lack of confidence in one’s ability, lack of confidence in one’s capability to meet expectations (or is it goals?), whether those are your own or those of others, and a fear of injury/death. It helps a lot, for example, if you play ultimate because you love playing ultimate, not because you absolutely must make nationals or your captains mandate that you must make nationals or you want to impress the womenfolk. These may be applicable in a given instance, but one needs to shift focus to performance and performance alone. Get out of your head and into the game. Don’t worry about winning or losing, just play.
Also of note, generally, better athletes do more “mental rehearsal” (ie visualizing–from an internal perspective, not ‘seeing yourself,’ but ‘doing,’ so to speak), and of course more practice means better refinement of skills and more improvement as well.
There’s also stuff about “flow,” which is basically the mental performance eqivalent of being “in the zone,” if you’re interested in that.
Definitely a worthwhile read, it’s maybe a 20-30 minute read. Improving as a player doesn’t just mean training and practicing–the best athletes bring a mentality that allows them to get into the zone and perform more often. Don’t neglect your mental game.
On defense
So I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. As a defensive player this year, I spent a ton of time on the other side of the disc, trying to deny my quarry all that he desired.
Mostly I’ve been thinking about what makes for good defense. As an individual player, what can I do, how can I play to best ensure the D line generates a turn?
The answer I came up with? Well, it depends.
The way I see it, there are two primary ways to play defense: smart defense and emotional defense. I’ll qualify this first by saying the two are not mutally exclusive, and second by saying that this is a very general classification.
Smart defense means, more often than not, playing to contain. A smart defender anticipates what his mark wants and makes it difficult, if not taking it away entirely. A smart defender realizes the various situations he is in–is my man a viable threat to go deep given current position/situation? am I sure laying out for a 50% chance of a D is worth giving up the force for 2 seconds if I miss, or is it more practical to set a hard mark right away and prevent flow?–and responds accordingly, limiting the threat of his man. Ideally, a smart defender all but neutralizes the impact of the player he’s guarding on the field.
Emotional defense means busting ass and trying to make every play. An emotional defender always lays out for those close discs on in cuts, throws an aggressive mark, trying to force a turn. An emotional defender’s primary objective is to generate turns–whether this is through baiting opportunities, or just through running hard and laying it all out.
I’ve come to realize I’m much more of a smart defender than an emotional defender. I think, for much of the season, I’d been really lacking in good, emotional defense, conceding too much in one way or another in an effort to dictate and keep from being beaten at what I chose to take away. Not as effective as I could have been.
I started incorporating more emotional defense into my game, fighting harder to get a D on whatever my man was trying to get, and my defense improved accordingly. Still very much disposed towards smart defense, but in position to make plays more often. This is pretty much where I’m at right now.
Most of what I’ve been thinking about is, simply, would I be a better defender if I become a more aggressive, emotional defender? Would the extra D’s I might generate from those close bids and the occasoinal burn from overcommitting to a cut outweigh the “team D” effect from simply doing my job and holding the force and keeping my man in check? It’s hard to say.
I feel like there’s a place for both styles of play, though. In some conditions, for example–windy conditions comes to mind–there’s no need to “force” the D as much, since turnover rate is naturally higher. In this sort of situation, giving up the easy breakside throw or getting too far out of position trying to make a great play has a higher degree of risk vs. reward as a defender. Turns are easier to come by, so why risk letting the other team score and put the ball in your court when you can force them to keep playing perfect to do the same thing?
In other conditions though–high level play, in non-windy conditions, say–the utility of smart defense is lessened, and getting that one key D can be potentially game-changing. The turnover environment is lower–a team runs a smooth offense that doesn’t shoot itself in the foot and doesn’t take exceptionally large risks (ie hucks for completions, not for skies)–so rather than simply do one’s job and only delay the inevitable, it might be more valuable to be the guy who lays out for every close disc (not that there would be many), hoping to generate a turn where there normally wouldn’t be one.
Of course, if a team has a good strategy to force an offense to take risks, or can otherwise increase the turnover environment through a team strategy where everyone doing their job is essential, then smart defense would again be more beneficial. This would almost be ideal, in my book. Force the other team to be perfect, knowing (or hoping) that they aren’t, rather than relying on the (at a level where teams are evenly matched, athletically) low chance of forcing a D.
There is a middle ground, but finding the balance can be hard. I would think a defense that alternates between smart and agressive defense–lulling an offense into thinking a team is playing to contain and won’t make the plays and then turning it on, snapping them out of their comfort zone with tight, aggressive D–might have the most success in the long run, but I’d be lying if I said I had a good mastery of that balance.
I’m about to wander into the realm of incoherency at this late hour, so I’ll leave it at that. In practical terms, whether one leans smart or emotional should always vary with a team or player’s strengths, and from there it should adjust to the given conditions/competition. Getting fired up has its place, but few things are worse than a questionable bid that fails and leaves the field wide open for the opponent. By the same token, taking a step back and playing smart to keep your opponent in check can be very useful, but sometimes the risk needs to be taken. Those close plays a smart player almost gets are the same plays an emotional player eats up.
Which side of the risk/reward curve do you (you is, of course, a term I use very loosely, since there are very few who read this) lean towards?
Finally over my spring term hump. Finals soon, but I expect to get at least a few productive blog posts in over the coming month. Been taking a step back from the game proper, but still thinking lots.
Team ideology
I got thinking about this topic a good while ago. I was blitzing back and forth with a friend of mine who plays for Pike–probably the closest thing I’d have to a mentor in the sport of ultimate, he was one of the first good players I saw, and pretty much inspired me to really get into ultimate. Who knows why–maybe I figured if I got as good at ultimate as him, I’d be able to score more points with the ladies, as most of my thoughts seemed to trend that way in some form or another at that age (though now I can’t really see the sense in appealing to 14-16 year-old summer campers as a college student…). There’s a chance he’ll be up to Dartmouth to play in Frozen, which would be sweet as I haven’t seen him in several years, though I haven’t heard from him on it yet. But I digress.
Anyways, at one point he alluded to a veritable treatise on How Pike Plays Ultimate, composed by the team’s captains. Something ridiculous like 24 pages, talking about all sorts of things, specific things players on the team should look for in a given situation, etc. It struck me as a bit strange, but also really intriguing. I mean, something like that’s gotta be guaranteed to make you a better player, right, all that elite-level team strategy…I haven’t seen it, but the concept would seem to be applicable to things with Dartmouth, at least to an extent.
I mean, particularly with all the new stuff we’ve been learning, and trying to run a good, East-coast O, we’ve been working on a lot of new zones, new looks, new plays–all great stuff, but also a bit overwhelming; missing practice can set you behind the curve a good bit. We’ve still a lot of work and development to do with our team playbook, so to speak.
This is where the concept of a “team ideology” comes in. I’m just talking about simply having things well-defined–this is how we run our ideal 2-3-2 (or 2-4-1) zone, and sometimes we’ll mix it up with x or y. This is the ideal way we’d run a dump-swing-continue. This is what we’d want our ideal first in the stack to be doing and be looking to do and capable of doing. This is what we want for our ideal set-up for a deep cut. This is our ideal stack positioning…and so on. Ideally it’d be written down or otherwise cemented in some form or another so that we can refer back to it (and make adjustments as necessary). For basic concepts, at least, it would seem to make sense–rather than having a bunch of players all operating of their own accord within the framework of offensive scheme A or B, (not that that’s a bad thing) give them clearly-defined roles with specific objectives. I feel like having this sort of discipline can make the gelling process easier as a team, as rather than having to get a feel for each and every person to really know how to play with them, you’ll already have a good idea how people play. Of course, people will still do their own thing, but the more you can control for the more potential to be effective there is, I think.
The whole thing is partly just me liking to have things in a place that’s well-defined that I can refer to, liking the certainty and authority of having things put down like that, and I’m sure there’re players on the team that would simply shake their heads and ask “why?”
But I feel like it’d be useful. In any case, I’ll be doing it in some form or another here.
In other news, I went for my first run today! First time in a good long time, it felt great, let me tell you. I’ve come to realize what a difference the bit of extra weight I’ve put on has made–once my legs reacclimate to the slightly increased body weight I should be able to play much more athletically more consistently. I’ve had short bursts of the good stuff I know I’m capable of, but with consistency in mind, I’m definitely gonna look to keep getting my ass in shape. Also had a good lifting session. Gonna mix up the training scheme for a week or two and see if I can’t develop some of the areas the ultimate program doesn’t really focus on as much, mostly upper body. I’ve always loved having good wrist and grip strength, as I think they directly translate to throwing and catching ability, and lately my shoulders have been lacking, so I’m hoping to get some military press/lat pulls and the like to strengthen those a bit more too. We’ll see how it goes.
The Bid
A fine art, though few view it as such. A more common view for many could be any of the following: Nothing new, A sign of the young, overzealous college player, something wonderful, something dangerous, the list goes on. It’s so many things all at once, and I think it’s a marvelous tool to have in one’s repetoire, if used correctly.
But first, a short how-to.
Put simply, a bid is falling with style. Because one wants to reach a disc which is too low, moving too fast at one’s side, or just generally out of reach whilst standing, the bid is used as a means to force the body to move in such a way that the disc is within reach.
Sounds simple, but there are a number of mental blocks and physical blocks that prevent it from being instinctive for most.
The budding bid-happy college player goes through several phases before really reaching the point where the bid is practical for the player and in-game (there may be more, but these are the phases I’ve gone through):
1) Oh man, laying out is so awesome. One is in awe of the bid, and wants to have it. This phase is generally typified by lots of comments when somebody bids, audibly enough for several nearby players to hear, in the hopes that conversation on the topic will yield some insight not yet afforded to the budding bidder.
2) Research. Perhaps a foray into the internet, perhaps simply through Q&A with one who’s been there, one comes to understand some of what goes into a bid–see the disc, know you need to layout, layout.
3) Failed attempts. This could range from wanting to bid but only being able to get on one’s knees before falling, thinking the bid is necessary but hostering it in a given situation, or perhaps as far as jumping and falling willy-nilly at whatever is within range, which is the most dangerous as it can result in poor landings and serious injury. All these things have in common is that it gets a player ready for real-time layouts; the comfort zone is continually expanded.
4) Success. Whether it be simply while tossing, for a D in the zone, or an offensive bid, whatever, there comes a moment where one finds success. One doesn’t necessarily need to catch the disc or get a hand on it to have a successful bid; generally, one has the realization after it happens–holy crap, I just flew.
5) Bid-happy. The budding bidder is at a dangerous point; with the newfound bidding ability, it becomes all too easy to do it whenever one can, as practice/showing off. This leads to many heckles of “gratuitous”, but also is an injury risk. Laying out is not a painless thing; it really requires a mind-over-matter sort of mentality. It’s definitely possible to hurt one’s hips and shoulders with improper form, particularly if repeated, and even with proper form (absorbing the impact with one’s torso) repeated collision can lead to a lot of arm scrapes (I’ve got perpetual scars on my right arm by the elbow) and, I find, at least, back pain due to the unnatural body position absorbing the impact requires.
6) Refinement. Once the concept of “laying out” has been integrated into one’s game, one seeks to improve the usefulness of the bid–laying out at head-height as opposed to foot-height, getting a full extension at full speed, improving timing, etc. This comes from experience–the bid-happy phase, while dangerous, also (hopefully) provides insight as to when it’s appropriate in a game to take the risk of a bid and when you can’t afford to give your man two unmarked seconds after a failed defensive bid–but also comes just from examining one’s game. I find visualization of in-game situations to be very beneficial here; picturing yourself in a number of different situations and getting the layout D in X situation, or thinking better and holstering in Y situation, it all becomes that much more instinctive in real life if you’ve thought it out beforehand.
After that, I don’t know. I’m still refining my choosing of when to bid, as my layout D vs. layout attempts ratio is nowhere near where I want it.
Not the clearest of how-tos, but hopefully you can glean some insight out of all this.
Performing when it counts.
There’s a lot to it, I think, but the principal factors are psychological.
There are a whole number of different thoughts I have on this, all of which I think have merit:
-Getting pumped up for the big game, not intimidated by it.
-Keeping things positive, even when things are a bit off or luck goes awry.
-Have players in their most comfortable roles to ensure success.
-Replicating the same game-time conditions to help ease pre-game stress. (Have a consistent pre-game routine)
-Visualization is key. See yourself being successful in your endeavors before you ever step on the field.
-Train hard, play hard. It’s a lot easier to tell yourself you can outrun, outplay team X if you’ve been busting your balls all winter long getting in shape and working on your skills.
-Stay cool. Don’t force things just because it’s the big game.
-Don’t think, do. I’ll elaborate on this sometime in an entirely new post.
Doing rather than thinking
This is an extremely important concept, for any athlete of surpassing ability. It’ll be described in all sorts of ways: execution, having the game slow down for you, being locked in, making it all look easy, whatever.
It’s all just a fancy way of phrasing the reality that the athlete in question has honed their craft to a point where it’s no longer necessary to have to focus on every little detail of their game, and instead can channel all their mental energy into focusing on the situation. This is why major league baseball players spend hours in the batting cage, tinkering with mechanics–get it to a point where it’s second nature, and then you can focus on just hitting the ball, not your left foot position, your grip on the bat, all of that extraneous stuff comes naturally, and for an instant, everything clicks.
That’s why you practice your throws, time after time,–so when you’re on the field during a game and you need to get that forehand huck off under pressure, you can focus on breaking your mark, rather than breaking your mark while stepping out, making sure your grip on the disc is correct, and keeping your wrist position from turning the disc over too much.
But to just generalize with “this comes merely from doing X over and over” would be misleading. It’s not that simple; it requires loads of focus and deadication in practice. Even when you’re just tossing, you have to make sure you’re reinforcing good habits, getting out, getting low, hitting your target in the chest–every time. If you practice without focus, you’ll pay for it in game situations.
Once you’ve applied your focus thusly, it becomes a matter of making it instinctive. If you’ve practiced good form for 1000 low-release forehand throws, you should be able to merely concentrate on your target, and how you want your throw to be while throwing, and have the form come naturally.
Success at the highest level absolutely requires this sort of neuromuscular coordination, to be able to respond with the correct movement and ability as quickly as possible at precisely the right moment.


