My dad kept warning me about "the real world." The real world doesn't give you a last minute extension. The real world doesn't operate on a semester basis. The real world certainly does not give you summers off.
However, I am glad that the real world still holds one island of respite holy - the weekend. The slacker's sabbath, the deadbeat's détente, the loafer's furlough, the weekend is still mine. From Friday's closing time until Monday's commute the woes and worries of the rat race are left behind and everyone from the sales rep to the sales clerk can be a weekend warrior.
It is on the field of my own personal vacation vocation that I see the berserk nature of weekend warrior's "play hard" mantra in full swing. I play Ultimate (Frisbee) on a coed club team named "Classy." My teammates include lawyers, psychology lab rats, code monkeys, energy consultants, chemical engineers, and physicists. We come together every weekend during the season to practice and play in tournaments, running around and chasing down a 175 gram chunk of plastic.
It is an amazing physical and social outlet. It's an escape, a reprieve, a sabbatical from everything else. It is a much needed dose of good natured absurdity in a world full of vitriolic absurdity. In this post are some great photos taken by my teammates. More photos are available from their online albums of our entire season.
Above: Obligatory glamor/action shots.
Below: Classy teammate Dan "D-Mo" Morris completes a maneuver known as "the greatest." Jumping from in bounds he caught the disc in the air and threw it back into play on the field before touching the ground. Cooly (in the turquoise hat) caught the disc in the end zone. Unfortunately the other team, overwhelmed by D-Mo's awesomeness, cried foul and bitched us out of that point. We wound up beating them anyway.