Falling to pieces Well it finally happened… Yup! My trusty Frisbee – the one that’s been at my side for the better part of eight years, suddenly cracked and shattered into a hundred pieces when I skipped it off the road at my place last week . “Wow that was bizarre!’’ I shouted to my Frisbee partner, Jesse, as I stood above the strewn remains. In that instant, my favourite disc died ending our unique and memorable relationship.


What had caused my Frisbee to break apart? Was it


rebelling against its recent demotion from Ultimate game disc to practice disc and Road Warrior? Had it reached its expiration date of one million throws? Maybe, I wondered, it had simply grown old and lost its will to live and decided to slip these earthly bounds.


I suppose I’ll never know for sure what happened that afternoon when


my Frisbee blew apart but I somehow feel compelled to acknowledge its passing. Now, before you reach for the phone and call for the men with the white jackets to take me away, please hear me out. Here is the life and times of a 175 gram Frisbee – the one I call ‘Mr. Friz’.


Mr. Friz Eulogy to my dearly departed Frisbee I’m not exactly sure what Mr.Friz was originally made of but I always imagined that it was a secret blend of recycled plastics that combined ground-up, leaky Coleman coolers, squashed liquor bottles and discarded novelty items from the X-rated Adult Video store. Once these plastic pellets of questionable origin were thrown together and injected into a high tech molding machine, Mr. Friz’s path to aerodynamic greatness was set into motion. Mr. Friz’s body was also tattooed with exotic designs and colours giving him his unique look. After this manufacturing process he was simply dropped into a cardboard box for shipping to his new owner….ME!! Several days later the package arrived


at my front door and I eagerly searched until Mr. Friz’s sleek body and flashy graphics emerged from the box. Surely he was going to turn heads with his bold good looks. But for me it wasn’t


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until I threw Mr. Friz that first time and he flew so straight and so true…that our friendship truly began. Although Mr. Friz had great looks, this outer beauty disguised his dark rebellious side. Yes, indeed! I clearly recall one windy afternoon several years ago during a critical play-off game when I tossed him – a beautiful precise game winning throw – only to see him simply turn over and fall to the ground wanting no part of this completed pass. Oh, how that moment stung. I walked off the field in silence. My Team had just been eliminated from the prestigious Durham Ultimate Club “D” division league play- offs.


Following that game I immediately shoved Mr.Friz deep into my car’s trunk and that’s where he stayed for the better part of two years, hobnobbing with smelly socks and assorted beer cans and some neglected fishing gear! Fast forward two years to Sauble Beach, Ontario – the location of Mr.Friz’s reappearance. On this particular day I


had gone to the beach with a backpack full of snacks, toys and towels when, lo and behold, a lovely lady walked up to me and introduced herself and asked if I might have a Frisbee and if I wanted to play catch. “Of course”, I replied. My excitement


quickly turned to heartbreak when my backpack revealed no disc. Damn, I thought. Where was it? Had I forgotten to pack a Frisbee? What was I going to do?! Suddenly, I remembered. Mr. Friz was buried deep inside my trunk. I raced back to my car, and after considerable digging, I found Mr.Friz. Yes!!


My neglected friend and newfound saviour emerged into the light of day looking different with numerous scratches and scuffs from his long stay in solitary confinement. In my moment of need, Mr.Friz had my back and no matter how weather-beaten and worn he was from the Trunk Tango, he was still able to fly – so straight and so true. Happily we were united once more. I fondly recall another occasion when


Mr. Friz spent all winter sitting upside down on my dresser cuddling spare change, the odd button and leftover beer tickets from Saturday night benders. I think belly button lint was part of that


Ultimate Canada Magazine — www.canadianultimate.com


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