Student Outdoor Nationals 2002

On may 3rd 2002, a ragtag bunch of misfits set out from Glasgow on a mission; to claim the student outdoor ultimate title or die trying. Thankfully we'll never know if they would have gone that far, but cyanide capsules were distributed.

Cast:
Jonny the puke boy, Bryce "the Enforcer" Renwick,
Steven "only in it for the medal" Gall, Caz, Erik, Junior,
Shaun, Philip, Glen "The Greatest" Dobson, Adam,
Maxim "fresh air" Bierbach, Neil "no need for a nickname" Mcewan.

We arrived in Nottingham without too much trouble, and in the course of locating the campsite Bryce managed to convince a couple of clearly stoned local players that we were actually a rugby team on tour. After listening to their explanation of this 'ultimate' thing we told them that since we were here anyway we may as well give it a try, even if it did sound like a game for poofs.

The scene of the crime.

Saturday saw us playing 5 games, the pool matches shaped up like this:

Far Flung vs Jedi 2: 13-0
Far Flung vs Picnic: 11-3
Far Flung vs Shooting Stars: 10-2
Far Flung vs Fish: 11-4

This put us top of our pool and set up a crossover against purple haze. Considering the way they destroyed us indoors (12-4) we were looking forward to getting a little revenge, which we duly did:

Far Flung vs Purple Haze: 12-6

On Carols reccomendation we ended up at a Franky and Benny's restaurant on saturday night. It should be noted that the tin-arse award (translation for uk readers: Jammy bastard) had to go to Glen for tricking the waitress into spilling his drink on him and then charming his way into a free meal. We then spent half the night getting our butts kicked at pool (no? just me then) at the local megabowl. We had to leave early though 'cos Carol was getting homesick with all the Neds around. Back at the campsite the party in the pub was drawing to a close, but then relocated to the marquee where Adam attempted to purchase beer with amusing anecdotes rather than currency (the really strange thing is that it actually worked).



The next morning we learned just how terrified Neil really was of sharing a tent with Adam and I, and the lengths he would go to to ensure that no more orifices were exposed than necessary. The boy is just not right.

The quarter final was against Bears:

Far Flung vs Warwick Bears: 12-4

Our Semi-Final turned out to be our closest game in terms of scoreline, with Mythago being the first team to go ahead at any point in the weeknd and the only team which scored more than half our points:

Far Flung vs Mythago: 10-6

This victory put us into the final against Jedi.

The final was a great game. However, the overwhelming majority of crowd support, apart from a few dissenting scottish voices, was in favour of Jedi. The wind had been getting steadily stronger all day, building to it's maximum just before the final began, making upwind points all the more crucial. Despite this both teams coped well with the conditions and the result was a tightly contested hard fought game. In the end we pulled away and Jedi just couldn't come back:

Far Flung vs Jedi: 15-7

Jon uses the same speach he did for indoor nationals. The crowd tells Jon that if we plan on winning again next year then we better come up with a more entertaining speech.

I feel that it needs to be said here that the MVP award went to an outstanding player, finally the public realised the true talent in the Far Flung team, unlike the scandalous events surrounding the indoor final MVP award where the result was quite obviously fixed. In case you didn't get that, PHILIP WON MVP. Despite the rumours it wasn't entirely down to a well timed ankle twist to get the crowds sympathy (but it probably helped).

The inevitable team photo:

Upon further scientific analysis using the latest in thermo-spectral imaging and a sophisticated scale it was determined that the team were officially shit hot:

white = awesome blue = Kak.

Apart from the obvious great play by everyone all weekend there were a few more notable incidents. Since there's never a camera around at the right time we failed to immortalise these moments on film, so instead I have attempted to recreate the essence of these situations.

Shaun is determined to make a layout catch in the Purple Haze game, but somehow plants his face in the ground first, with the rest of his body refusing to stop.
Glen pulls off a 'worlds greatest' against Shooting Stars after which he evolved to godlike status and was about to ascend into the heavens, but then someone called a pick.
Jon ensures our path to the final emphatically, (three times in a row) just before our semi against Mythago. Apparently the shower of lucozade could be seen from two pitches away.
Max lays out very energetically in the final, although nobody can quite work out why.