Postcard from Portimao - Postmarked 15 October 2022

 I didn't know what I was getting myself into. How could I have known beforehand? Now that it's over and done with, I can reveal to you all about one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

Have you ever heard of the sport, Ultimate Frisbee? I admit that I had heard of it once a few years ago but I had absolutely no idea about the game, the rules, nor about the worldwide community of passionate players.

 

Imagine a team sport that is very competitive yet has no referees. No umpires. All fouls or infractions are called by the players themselves and then quickly resolved themselves. The two (or three) players party to the infraction, talk it over quickly, using hand signals (there are about 40 of them) so the other players on the team also understand what is taking place, and then they agree on how to proceed. Another interesting reason for the hand signals is because players from opposing teams may be from different countries and not share a common language!

This team sport is called Ultimate Frisbee, or simply, Ultimate, for short. As you may recall, I had expected to be cycling with Marc for two to three weeks in the south of Spain immediately following my sailing adventure in the Argolic Gulf in Greece.

Marc, however, two weeks prior informed me that he would be flying to Sardinia for a month after only five days of cycling with me in Spain. Something about a woman. 

 

Of course you've heard the expression, when one door closes another opens? No sooner was I out a cycling buddy, I received an offer to be a scorekeeper at both the European Ultimate Beach Club Championship and the World Great Grand Master Ultimate Beach Championship, both taking place, consecutively, in Portimao, in the Algarve, Portugal.

Of course, I accepted the invitation that came in through that open door. While at home, everything in Europe appears to be so close together geographically, but when in Europe even traveling from one country to its neighbour may take some time. Thus, after a five-day unplanned visit to Sevilla and two more days in Lagos, I arrived on schedule in Portimao to learn about my scorekeeping responsibilities. Those two city visits en route may land in their own postcard one day soon.

 

With 900 players representing approximately 60 clubs from 25 different countries playing on 12 sandy courts for three days straight, you may imagine all the logistics that are needed to manage even a half-day of games and their results. Plus of course the fifty volunteers and staff, including scorekeepers, medics, I.T.,  meal preparation, the media, etc.

By now you must be wondering how complicated can it be to keep score? Each scorekeeper starts the game by blowing the whistle and yelling "Play" or something similar and then starts the stopwatch. So far, easy-peasy. I like to give the two teams a five-minute advance warning, too, as they are all on the field warming up by then, and they love to have enough time for a team huddle before the game officially starts, to boost their energy and team spirit. We also have to keep track of who scored and who assisted each goal plus the time of the goal, and then change the score on the scoreboard. We have to keep track of the time elapsed throughout the game.

 

The teams flip a couple of frisbees before the start of the game to choose who starts on the offense and we note this, too. At the half time, at 25 minutes, or when one team reaches seven points, the teams switch sides as there may be wind or sun which favours one direction or the other. There are many other timing rules to know however I will spare you any further details. Enough to understand we are blowing the whistle regularly to keep the game moving along.

However trivial all of the above may sound, it is this that I found both mind-blowing and heart-warming: one team's players sometimes congratulate the other team's players during the game after a well-played goal. When a player calls a foul on another player, say for interfering with a shot or a catch, the player calling the foul explains what he or she feels was the foul and the other player will agree or else explain why what happened was not a foul. There is never a fight or raised voices, even in an important game where every goal scored can ultimately determine the winning team. After about 30 seconds of negotiating they agree on a resolution and the play continues. We scorekeepers do not mix in. In my seven days of scorekeeping, on only one occasion the two players were remarkably making no progress after a full two minutes of "arguing" so I blew my whistle and yelled, "captains." I remain uncertain if that was a legal call, but every player on both teams was relieved as the two team captains got on the field to weigh in and 10 seconds later a decision was agreed on.

The players from both teams often mingle on the field (ie., the beach) and chat about the last time they met at another competition or about a game earlier in the day. Or they horse around with each other, like kids playing on the beach. They often give each other advice for improving their playing. This takes place both before and after the game is played, or during the game as the players on the sidelines don't always stay close to their own teammates.

Another oddity which I've never witnessed elsewhere: after the game is over, all the players from both teams huddle in a large "spirit circle." They alternate in sequence a player from each team, so that every player has on his or her left and right a player from the other team, their arms are all interlocked behind each other's backs, everybody facing inwards. Each team awards a small meaningful gift to whom they have voted the best player from the other team and to the player from the other team who has shown the best spirit.

 

In this sport, the object is not to win the game at all costs, but rather to win the game with the best spirit. How many times did players thank me and my partner scorekeeper (it takes two scorekeepers to keep track of all the details during each game) for being volunteers, I lost count? We were always greeted with enthusiasm both on the field and at random encounters in town in the evenings. In fact, some of my fellow volunteer scorekeepers were players themselves on teams that did not qualify for this championship. They wanted to witness the games without having to pay all the travel expenses, as all the room and board expenses were paid for the volunteers. Thus, I met dozens of players from all over Europe, the States, Canada and Japan. I can count some of them now as friends.

It is a passionate worldwide community. The Japanese team had a relatively high expense to participate due to airfares (I suppose) and were short a couple of players. Thanks to a worldwide Ultimate Facebook group, a German and an American joined their team, having already met the team's members at a prior championship. I am under the impression that many of the teams had to borrow a player or two in order to compete with enough players, usually 15 per team, although only 5 at a time are on the field during the game.

To cap off the three or four days of games, at the end of each championship, the biggest disco club in town, The Mixx, was rented at night for a big private party for all the players, volunteers and staff. Similar to what I witnessed during the games, everybody mingled, danced and drank with others regardless of team membership, country of origin, etc. The very competitive spirit on the field is present but always within the context of the sport remaining non-contact, the rivalries friendly and the spirits high. And it is these high spirits that warmed my heart continually, that were contagious thankfully, but not because of what I have shared with you, above. Rather because we so often lack such high spirit in our daily routines and now I am invigorated, I am reminded that I can smile even more and congratulate my friends for a goal well played, and to pay it forward, as it were.

 

My only sad moment was in saying farewell to all, the morning after, when nearly everybody departed Portimao. In my case, I wasn't going home however, but on to Madrid for another adventure with no set end date.

Retirement is highly underrated!

Frisbee Barry