My daughter showed me this amusing picture of herself taken during one of her Ultimate Frisbee games. If you zoom in you will see a look of bemused disdain that I have on occasion noticed while in the middle of an earnest parental speech. Pleasant to see it deployed in a different context.
The context here relates to the fact that there are no referees in Ultimate Frisbee. It’s one of the sport’s little pretensions that the players are all of such elevated character that they don’t need them. They can just talk out their differences, you see. If the discussion about whether or not there was a foul, or whether a catch was made in- or out-of-bounds, comes to a stalemate, the final remedy is what 8-year-olds on the playground call a “do-over.” If you think about this for a moment, you will realize that it is therefore always possible to negate a really good play by the other team.
I think you caught that pass for a 20-yard gain out of bounds.
No, I was clearly in.
I disagree. Go back 20 yards and try to make another diving, acrobatic catch near the sideline.
Something like that is what’s going on here. My daughter is over hearing the case being made to one of her teammates by a lawyer-athlete on the opposing team. Seems the argument is weak. I recognize her weak-argument look, also known as the can’t-believe-I-hafta-listen-to-this-shit look.
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