Thoughts.

I know what just leapt to mind.

“The lefty backhand, huh? I’ve never thought it was very useful./What a useful throw!”

I’m not going to write on the merits of such a throw (haven’t had much chance to test it myself–though it is ready, should the appropriate situation for its use ever emerge…).

This is simply a suggestion. If you’ve ever hurt your throwing arm or dislocated a finger on your throwing hand and hurriedly rushed to learn how to throw off-handed because NE ’07 Regionals was only a week away (before finally resolving to grit it out with the right, because you could make due with the pinky in a splint), then you might appreciate what I’m getting at here.

Teaching yourself how to throw off-handed is like teaching a rookie how to throw, but with the slight leg-up of your extra experience with the other limb. Through the lens of what you’ve already learned, can you apply your knowledge and discern what the real keys in throwing are?

It’s hard to teach any skill, especially if you’re far enough along in your learning that you’ve forgotten how you learned in the first place…with throwing, however, you have the luxury of another novice–your off hand. If you can teach your off-hand, you can teach a rookie.

Perhaps more importantly, if you can teach your off-hand, you can learn how to improve the consistency of your dominant hand. How is it, exactly, that you’re able to determine where your forehand goes when you let it go? Is there something in the grip that lets you keep your backhand flat?

It’s also a good way to keep casual throwing interesting. In addition to throwing some game-time visualization into these situations, you can take a step back and re-examine the fundamentals through use of your off-hand. If you’re looking for a slightly more practical carryover, you can do a lot worse than having an off-handed backhand in your arsenal (particularly the high release, which is to date the most consistent advantage for the lefty backhand vs. the righty flick I’ve seen).

Try it. Re-learn how to learn.

(And then teach)

UPDATE: Check the comments for some more thoughts about in-game applications of off-hand throwing.

I’ve already said my piece on RSD:

1) I’m glad I just graduated and don’t have to make this decision
2) I’m glad the boys left behind weren’t picked in this “elite” group
and don’t have to make this decision.

It’s a good time for all of us on the outside, pontificating and
theorizing–outside of a few recurring themes in discussion, though, I
don’t see most of the RSD chatter leading to much. Idle hands and all
that.

Idle hands.

If you don’t know what a deadlift is, you DEFINITELY need to be doing deadlifts.

If you do know what they are, you should still be doing them. And you can probably be doing them better.

Before you go to the gym, check out this extremely informative crossfit article on deadlift technique. As the title says, it’s a bit, but if you and your training buddy both read this and spot each other, I can almost guarantee you you’ll see good results. Hell, I coached myself without a second set of eyes and saw plenty of benefit.

Train the posterior chain! Anyone can accelerate–but being truly explosive, in starting AND stopping*, will make you unstoppable.

*in my mind, stopping is the most underrated ability in ultimate.

UPDATE: More on deadlifting here.

What the hell does that mean?

I mean, when you pivot from forehand to backhand (or vice versa), you should:

A) Throw a fake to initiate the pivot and

B) Make the fake on an upwards trajectory, using the fake’s momentum to kickstart your pivot over to the other side.

Think about it. Try it. The trick is to make your fakes still look convincing. The “upward trjectory” refers more to your body than your arm.

The next step (or perhaps concurrent step) is learning to throw with those same motions. Convincing fakes are ones that you can actually throw from.

Watch good ultimate.

One of the best things about ultimate, as it’s currently constructed, is that the UPA series has no arbitrary cutoff for playing. Everyone, from the repeating champ to the pickup squad of you and your buddies, can play. And anyone can show up to a regional (this is admittedly easier in the Northeast than in other regions) and watch.

Since I started playing at Dartmouth 4 years ago, one of the things I’ve enjoyed most is being able to go to Northeast club regionals–first in div. 2 with an 08 frosh squad, than later in div. 1 with Chuck Wagon and Dartmouth–and play against and watch some of the best players in the country compete. From watching DoG my freshman year, wide-eyed and amazed (after all, DoG’s run of dominance in the ’90s was all I had heard about of ‘pro’ ultimate as a high schooler), I’ve found as I become more and more experienced in this sport that, rather than simply being astounded at the level and a simple observer, I’ve come to appreciate a lot more nuance of how play goes.

Watching two good club teams play each other is a really special treat. If you haven’t broken in to that level and had the opportunity to train in a system that creates those kinds players, the nearest substitute you can get is attentively watching. Something as simple as watching the players throw as they warm up can yield some wisdom–players throw hard, but confidently, to their target.

You can observe a lot at the team strategy level, too–zone sets in particular, how teams communicate and what they do to adjust, etc.–but I think the biggest or quickest gains to your own game can be had from simple imitation. I watched some DoG players going through their warmups and noticed how they stepped and threw, quickly and effectively, to their target, and shortly thereafter was working on my own throws attempting to do the same thing.

We all imitate at some level, whether we realize it or not. Mirror Neurons will activate when you observe an action, and the simple act of watching can lead to learning if you’re sufficiently trained. The better you get at ultimate, the easier it is to get better at ultimate–a rookie watching a high-level player might simply observe, “Wow, they’re fast,” while a more experienced player might noticed a subtle shift in the primary cutter’s hip motion that sets up their exploding into their next cut so effectively and seemingly quickly (and then be able to incorporate that same technique into their own game with a little practice).

Watch ultimate. Watch GOOD ultimate. Learn from the best. Ultivillage is a godsend, though you’ll pick up a lot more from the real thing in person. If you don’t have the chance to watch the really good players, find good players who are really good at at certain things (for example, that guy at pickup with the huge forehand). Figure out how they do those things so well. Amalgamate the best in others and you’ll make yourself into a hell of an ultimate player. (And then do the same for people you meet and life skills and become a great person, too).

The arm sock.

Underrated and under-appreciated, in my humble opinion.

Yeah, maybe you play in the s’th and you don’t have to worry about things such as warmth. But if you’re up in the still North, why, good insulation is the difference between a great practice on the turf or a frustrating one in the cold. Or more importantly, the difference between throwing with confidence as New England turns cold and stormy and shanking a flick because you couldn’t open your hand in time to throw it.

It’s an easy accessory to make. Get a friend (or don’t, if you want to cover both your arms) and split the cost of some long socks (soccer socks do the job very well). Cut the sock before it reaches the bend for the foot. Cut a small hole in the side that your thumb can fit through. Bam!

Keep your arm warm, throw with comfort. If you don’t like the thumb hole/partial hand cover, fold it down. Pop this bad boy on top of some underarmour, and you’ll never have to worry about cold hands again.

Check out the candidate statements, audio interviews (after you log in–though I had technical difficulty accessing them. Perhaps because I’m in Japan right now?), and the Huddle’s coverage, too.

Honorable mentions (in my book) go to Todd Leber, who has some great, revolutionary ideas, but whose platform has little else of relevance to UPA members (nothing in his experience or his numerous RSD writings suggest he has an interest in anything short of semi-pro ultimate–making him better suited as, for instance, the president of Major League Ultimate rather than a board member of the Ultimate Player’s Association), and Jamie Nuwer, whose interests are very much after my own heart (Sports Medicine and ultimate and where the two meet), and who has done some great things with the Injury Timeout website (PLEASE look at this site! Be a resource for your teammates. The value of somebody with even a halfway informed idea of how to take care of an injured person is invaluable at practices and tournaments alike!)…hopefully she runs again in the next election.

This really makes me wish I was playing ultimate right now.

Oh well. I guess there’s the one 5v5 beach ultimate tourney with a pickup team to tide me over for the next year…