Charlie Reznikoff
Psychologist John Dewey debunked a commonly held belief called the stimulus-
response reflex arc: you see something, you decide what to do, you respond.
Instead, Dewey proposed, you only see what you have a mental framework for;
this framework contains your response within it. In other words, your response
exists before you see the stimulus. Many players have the experience of
knowing they’ve thrown the goal before the disc leaves their hands, or
“seeing” the lay out D before it happens. Great players don’t scan the field
for openings. That takes too long. Great players recognize the beginning of a
pattern that they can complete to their favor. Learning this pattern
recognition takes experience, a good system, and focused drilling. No doubt,
some players naturally learn quicker than others, and previous sports
experience helps. Usually, though, the quick learners are the ones at practice
working hard.
Sports Psychologist Alan Goldberg warns against asking players to think on the
field. A player should not “see” the field in that sense. In the huddle don’t
ask your team to do anything other than rely on its training. Team leaders
should examine every drill, even (especially) the mindless warm up patterns.
Those drills teach your team the patterns it will later use to read the field.
If you want to throw to receivers cutting to space, don’t run the “straight on
attack” drill. If you want to throw hucks from the middle of the field, don’t
run the sideline huck drill. If you want to throw continuation swings after a
dump, include that in your reset drill. To better read poaches, try
scrimmaging 7(o) on 8(d) with the extra man poaching. Unless you’ve drilled
it, your players won’t see it. And if you’ve drilled it wrong, they’ll do it
wrong. Whatever your team is not “seeing” tells you, the team leader, where
you need to drill differently.
Charlie Reznikoff
When marking, face to face, one-on-one with your opponent, you are more closed
off from the game around you than at any other moment in Ultimate. This leads
some markers to try for too much, going for every block. Others miss
opportunities to help their teammates by adhering too closely to the force.
Effective marking requires a balance between these extremes. One trick to
achieving this balance (and knowing when to take a risk on the mark) is
glancing over your shoulder at the oncoming cuts. A quick look behind you
helps you not to bite on fakes. You can prioritize which throws to take away.
You’ll have the opportunity to help a roasted teammate. And you’re much more
likely to get a block.
A common example of this occurs after a deep pass is caught near the end zone.
The defender, just taken deep, is often frantic, frustrated, and wants to get
the defense personally. He may mark wildly, lunging for every fake. In doing
so he makes end zone defense impossible for his teammates, and makes a goal
more likely. Conversely, some defenders will mark conservatively, doing only
what was agreed-upon before the point. Yet in this scenario, cutters commonly
have a step on their defenders and conservative marking nearly guarantees a
score. A well-timed strike of the mark would save the goal.
In Ultimate, finding the cutters and adjusting the mark accordingly gives the
defense a huge advantage. Ideally the mark is not a one-on-one match up, but
team defense, like a zone, requiring communication and vision.
Charlie Reznikoff
What if the Minnesota Timerwolves had to play Macalaster College and a YWCA
pick-up team on their road to an NBA Championship? What if the Commissioner of
MLB also governed little league and summer softball league? Those levels of
play differ so much they are hardly the same sport. Yet in the Club Series of
Ultimate, players from all levels comingle on the same field. The best players
in the world compete against absolute novices. It is all governed by a single
organization, and usually only a skeleton crew of volunteers oversees the
proceedings. This creates community and growth, but also creates tension. We
use the term “Spirit” to negotiate the tensions that result.
Most disputes over Spirit are not about cheating. Overt, systematic cheating
is so uncommon that it is shocking when it happens. Most games don’t need
observers. Most Spirit debates involve different cultures of play mixing in
the tournament setting. Some people play Ultimate primarily for the
camaraderie; others would switch teams in a flash if they thought it would get
them more wins. To each the other seems to have no clue what Spirit means.
Some teams uphold meticulous pivot foot standards and blow off incidental
contact; other teams pay no attention to travels but expect a truly noncontact
game. These teams seem to have no respect for each other’s Spirit. College
teams often bring a level of sideline psyche that feels taunting and
aggressive towards their opponents, but is part of high level college
gamesmanship. When a high school team brings that energy it seems unspirited
and cruel.
Juniors, College, Club, Masters, Mixed, Open, Women’s. Each level involves
players with different physical and emotional maturity, different experience
levels, different life circumstances, and different reasons for playing. Put
them all in a blender called the UPA and hit puree. Sometimes ugly, sometimes
frustrating, the tension that results is discussed using the language of
Spirit.
Charlie Reznikoff
In the summer of 2006 Sub Zero cut a player then accidentally left him on our
email list. This guy later played for our competition. He forwarded to them
our “playbook.” But before we uncovered the leak, Zero and this team played in
finals of Sectionals. Early in the game we got our first defensive possession,
near our opponent’s endzone. Mark “Paco” Enright picked up the disc and called
the audible for me to cut for an immediate swing. My defender switched his
positioning to overplay the swing (knowing the audible). I switched my cut and
caught a goal. Paco and I had four years of playing together, making the
adjustment easy. The audible call was just a starting point for us. By the
way, Sub Zero won finals. Perhaps our opponents relied too heavily on their
inside information, and forgot they had to play the game. I have twice had
access to—but never used—the playbook of a top ten club team whom we played at
Club Nationals. In both cases these playbooks were obtainable because they
were in a digital format, easily forwarded by email.
At Labor Day 2006 Sub played an opponent from another region. As I set up the
d-line (I always do so with my back turned to our opponents so they can’t
hear) I reminded the team of the audible for a handler weave after a turn.
Then I noticed the captain of the opposing team standing in the back of our
endzone listening to my play call. We didn’t use our weave audible for that
game. Many times as a coach I hear the other team openly discussing (for
example) the zone they are about to throw. What do I do? I tell my team to
prepare for a zone. I don’t actively eavesdrop, but if the other team
announces their strategy, I respond. As a coach, I consciously decide how much
secrecy is required in making play calls, assuming other teams are listening.
On occasion I feel that clarity of strategy is more important than secrecy. In
those cases you might hear me yelling the force, or calling the transition to
“Man D!” from the sideline. Other times I place a premium on surprise and
secrecy.
I do not consider any of the examples above cheating, or even unspirited. I
give the above examples to illustrate two themes. First, as the sport evolves
and elaborates, maintaining secrecy will become more important. I suggest all
teams consciously protect their plays and audibles, especially digital
documents that are easily copied and forwarded. Second, players win and lose a
game, not plays. The best play is one that works even if your opponents know
it. If your play self destructs as soon as your opponents decode it, it is not
a play, it is a trap.
Charlie Reznikoff
Scenario #1. Your opponent has a short roster. In the first half they got
breaks early. But they are starting to look tired and predictable in their
offense. You have identified their play-makers. Your D line has already
generated some grueling points for their O line. Meanwhile your team has legs,
intensity, they just can’t cash in with breaks. In this scenario I’d turn up
the defensive intensity with a straight up mark, specific match ups, and hard
physical D. Take the other team’s key players out of their preferred game:
make their thrower go deep, make their deep cutter throw, face guard the
handler. Disrupt their initial play with a straight up mark, poaching off the
dump handler, forcing into the stack, transition junk, or whatever. Above all,
they should never get a one-pass-goal. Also unleash the team freak in the
huddle, get everyone jacked, and let a frenzy loose on the field. Avoid
stoppages of play and long discussions. After the turn, empower your key
throwers to take deep shots. If you don’t get the goal, you at least have
reset their offense against your smothering D. Bottom line: against a tiring
team, disrupt the initial play then fall into smothering physical defense with
quick transition.
Scenario #2. Your opponent is in rhythm and looking good. They show no
signs of letting up. The match ups are not in your favor. Your defense is
frustrated. Here you zone. Many teams don’t rely on zones in big moments, and
that is unfortunate. If you know and trust two zones, you can change momentum
in such a game. Start with your strongest zone. If your opponent takes a time
out to discuss their offense, switch your zone. Throw in a point of intense
man D after a few points of zone. Never let them regain their rhythm. Up to
this point your D line has not had many offensive possessions. They’ve watched
your opponents score at will. Commonly your D line will fritter away break
opportunities with impatience. I’d emphasize to the team playing within itself
and within the team’s offense. Challenge your team to out-think your opponent.
Bottom line: against a team in rhythm, switch up your defenses and play
methodical offense after a turn.
What not to do? Cheat. Often a second half deficit means travel calls,
excessive fouling-and-contesting, doubling-teaming zones, etc. At times this
is incidental to ratcheting up the intensity. Cheating shows the team’s lack
of actual strategy. In any case (and I’ve been on teams like this), bad calls
usually result in poor focus and lower energy for your own team. Against good
teams, bad calls will allow them to slow the game down, rest, think, and reset
their offense. Making key travel calls might get you some wins. But it will
prevent you from learning how to actually stop the throw, and you will not
grow as a player. My objection to cheating is not only moral. It’s practical.
It usually does not work.
Charlie Reznikoff
For most zones, the vulnerable spot is ten yards behind the cup (or front
wall). To get there you can go through the cup, over the cup, or around the
cup. Through and over involve risk. Around requires patience and planned cuts.
Ideally after the swing, before the cup is reset, the handler has two cutters
available for the next throw, one a continuation to the line and the other a
throw to the middle. Most zones will stop the continuation, force you to throw
back to the middle, and hope the cup will get there to stop or defend that
throw. As the cup tires, the window for throws to the middle opens. Once the
disc is behind the cup, that player (a popper) should have continuation cuts
to the middle of the field. These come from the other popper or the wings. Any
reasonable throw, even for a minimal gain, should be thrown. Each throw forces
the scrambling defense to readjust yet again. The throw to the middle, and the
resulting jailbreak, is the most desirable outcome of the swing, and the best
way to beat a zone.
If offensive players hang out too deep, they will miss the continuation cut
after the swing, and more importantly, they will miss the jailbreak. If these
players stay nearer to the disc, they will draw the deep defender in and, when
the jail break happens, a cutter can blow by the deep D for an easier huck.
I would practice zone starting with a swing and with the cup out of position.
Practice splitting the D after the swing and flooding the middle. This will
help your offense learn to coordinate their jailbreaks and also teach the
defense to recover after a swing.
Charlie Reznikoff
An organized approach to sideline situations gives the offense a great
advantage. For example: a well-isolated huck down the line or a series of
swings to the breakside. Unprepared and against a good defense, a team facing
a sideline trap will likely turn the disc over. I would challenge any team to
spend more time practicing from the sideline. Most teams have only one play
for the sideline, and many for a centered disc. Most teams design their plays
to start from a stopped disc. Most teams draw up their endzone offense
assuming the disc centered, ten yards out. Most teams do not train for when
things break down. Like most teams, Sub Zero spends the majority of its energy
developing strategy for the middle of the field, for the best case scenario,
and for the O-line catching the pull, though this represents the minority of
our actual offense. Teams that use wishful thinking when designing strategy
and drilling will get forced into unplanned situations by a good defense. No
situation more exemplifies this than the sideline trap.
Sub Zero ends practice with a scrimmage, O-line versus D-line. If the O-line
scores, they pull to the D-line. The D-line calls a play, receives the pull,
and centers the disc. Yet this never happens in a game. Why not instead have
the D-line set up on the sideline with the disc? Why not spend entire
practices with possessions starting randomly around the field, giving the team
only 20 seconds to set up? Or, do the same but ask your players to set up out
of position with no play call. You could practice offensive possessions with
your team setting up a play, but start with a swing to the trap and flow from
there. Your frustration in that practice will lead you to develop strategy for
those situations. I suggest that every team dedicates fifty percent of its
practice
Charlie Reznikoff
We’ve all seen certain players take over games, throwing hucks, getting lay
out Ds, or getting open against good defenders. These players are revered.
What is a role player? Everyone else.
I avoid using the term “role player” because it implies a value judgment on
those players who don’t get the glory. The player who throws hucks isn’t a
role player. The player who uses his mark to stop the hucks is a role player.
You might not notice the second guy but he’s why his team wins games (instead
you think the thrower “just had a bad game”).
The year Sub Zero went to semifinals their offense featured a slow player with
bad throws whose job it was to set the stack and burn poaches. He played every
O point and most points he didn’t touch the disc. Because of him the primary
cutter had a cutting lane. Sub Zero acknowledged this guy’s contribution in
the huddle, even though to other teams he was a joke. Had he not gotten credit
for his role, he might have gotten greedy for the cutting lane. On every team,
a few players will garner the attention and draw the cameras. The rest of us
need to find ways to contribute quietly. How a team treats the players who
don’t get the glory affects the team’s performance.
Players should not be fitted to roles for strategic purposes. The role should
be fitted to the player. Strategy in Ultimate and especially in college
Ultimate is reactionary. In the 1990s almost all college teams played a
vertical stack with two handlers. In the 2000s the Hodags brought the split-
stack with three handlers and dominated. Today split-stack or some variant is
widely used. People saw what worked and copied it. The thing is, split stack
worked for the Hodags because it played to their strengths and because they
understood it. As a strategy it is not in itself better than the vertical. As
defenses adjust to the split and horizontal stacks, the vertical will come
back. Every year 90% of college teams run approximately the same zone. A few
teams did not get the memo, and they dream up their own zone. If these novel
zones use the strengths of their players, they can surprise other teams. In
Ultimate, roles are not platonic forms; they can be molded to the situation
and to the player. A successful team uses whatever strategy best fits its
players.
One of my first captains saw me working tirelessly to fix my weaknesses.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Spend 70% of your energy improving your strengths.”
He was right. I’ll never win a game jumping. But I might win a game marking.
Every player needs to excel in something, even if it’s something subtle. When
the player deploys that skill, his confidence grows, he’ll relax, he’ll play
within himself, and the team will benefit. What he does won’t get him on Clip
of the Day. But he has developed a strength that he can count on in big
moments. To develop a player, make him focus on his strengths. Then create a
role for those strengths. As a team, celebrate his strengths. When he gets
called a “role player,” he’ll just laugh. He knows what he’s contributing.