Ben Wiggins
When I play, I often pick up the disc after a turnover. When I coach, my teams
are in this situation often (as Lou noted, college teams have dead-disc
situations much more frequently than in club Ultimate). Given the inherent
confusion of the moment, I value a simple communication system in order to
create positive and coordinated disc movement in a chaotic environment.
I really don’t care if everyone on the team can call plays. How many players
are really going to be picking up the disc after a turnover anyway? 2-3 on
your team, total? 4? What I do value, however, is a system where those few
players can simply and clearly tell the rest of the team what they want to
happen. As a coach, I like to be able to call out a sequence to beat a
specific poach or matchup. I like running very few plays, but having an extra
level of communication ready to describe individual moves.
One system I’ve used: Every player on the team is assigned a letter. Unless
they are a play-caller, they really only need to remember that single letter
(which is great for the majority of the team that is rarely going to be
encoding the information). We then use either a number or a letter for 4-5
different kinds of cuts. 1 = deep, 2 = in, 3= break, etc. This means that I
can walk to a disc, and see that the defense is planning an in-out bracket of
two cutters. If those cutters are ‘R’ and ‘S’. I can call R2 S3, telling both
cutters to come underneath to different sides of the field. It doesn’t matter
that neither cutter can see the bracket; they’ll give me bracket-beating
options naturally.
You can cook this system up by adding in numbers for dump-swings, give-go
moves, and continuation (for example, R2 S2 might be simultaneous cuts, but
saying ‘‘R3 and S1’’ could give me an open R cutting for a break throw and
then looking for a huck to S.
When I played basketball, my team ran 6-8 plays during the course of a game.
Each play, however, gave me different options that I could use. If we had a
nice size mismatch at small forward, there was a play that (even if not the
first option) would send our SF into the post. Running a (relatively) simple
system to give your on-field ‘point guards’ (or at least your coach) these
kind of flexible options might be worth your time.
Obviously, this is useless for pull-plays and sacrifices the timing/precision
of well-practiced set plays. I’ve had the privilege of playing with excellent
and intelligent defenders (two of whom are writing in this Issue) on my team
who, in scrimmages, would tear apart set plays after seeing them just a few
times. To me, the ability to react to dynamic situations with simple play-
calls is more important than a really smooth team play.
Ted Munter
What makes a great play is if it works on the field with the players you have.
No matter the nomenclature, strategic genius, or underlying theory: what
happens on paper matters little.
In general, I would say most team’s playbooks (and plays) are too complicated.
Go simple. And a few simple rules are:
1. Does the play work? (Not, “it would have worked if…”)
2. What is option B if the first pass doesn’t go as designed? Assuming
first pass works, options for second and third passes get tricky. Be careful
with being too prescriptive.
3. What do you do when the opponent defends the play perfectly?
Often it is dealing with number three that is player dependent. Your best
handler or your smart role player whose been at every practice may bail things
out if no one else recognizes what is happening, but that often puts you in a
defensive position, re-grouping to get your O cranked up again. How well (and
how quickly) you go from the plan not working out at all to something that
puts pressure on the opposition is something you hope to get to with a set
play, and your O in general. To practice that, just tell the D what’s coming.
All this said, commit to a few plays and get them down as a team. Run them
over and over at some tourney. If later they don;t work as well they will at
the very least help you probe out how another team plays you or give you a
framework from which to adjust.
Adam Sigelman
In game two of this year’s Eastern Conference Finals against the Orlando
Magic, LeBron and the Cavs had a set play. They were down by 2 with seconds
left and needed a quick bucket. LeBron was to cut hard to the hoop for an
alley-oop. Magic forward Hedo Turkoglu had an idea what would happen and
positioned himself between LeBron and the basket. As the play unfolded, LeBron
took a few steps towards the rim, and Turkoglu sags off him. So LeBron changes
course, v-cuts back to the arch, and drains a (ridiculous) game-ending three
pointer.
Winston Churchill once said: “Planning is essential, plans are useless.”
LeBron had a good plan, but he noticed instinctually that his odds of
succeeding would be better if he changed course. In Ultimate, like basketball
& other sports, set plays are useful to designate a cutting order and give the
thrower a good idea of how the field will unfold. I find them especially
useful near the endzone, where the offense only needs to complete one short
pass and individual cutters do not have much space to improvise in. At the
same time, plays are guidelines, and smart players will always throw out the
plan and capitalize when the defense presents them with good opportunities.
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.
Lou Burruss
The trick to a good set play package is selecting the right plays for your
team. Here are some basic guidelines:
1. Make it worth your time. There is only so much your team can learn, so
you want to make sure you are getting the most out of what you are practicing.
If you are playing elite club ultimate, over half of your possessions are
going to be off of the pull, so learn more pull plays. If you are playing
college ultimate, only a third of your possessions are coming off the pull, so
put more energy into transition plays (dead disc plays and fast breaks.) For
example, Sockeye typically runs about 15 pull plays (40 in the play book) and
2 or 3 dead disc plays. This year, Oregon ran 3 pull plays and 2 dead disc
plays.
2. Keep it simple. The-best-play-of-all-time is also the simplest. Stand
five guys on one side of the field and let your best player get open on the
other. Who runs this play? Jam? Ironside? Sockeye? Carleton? Burning Skirts?
Yes, yes, yes, yes and yes. I’m not a big believer in trickery. Learn a few
simple plays, get really damn good at them and shove them down the other
team’s throat.
3. Space. The-best-play-of-all-time is also a classic example of managing
space. Using the set circumstance of a pull, the offensive team can open up an
entire sideline and the deep space for a single cutter, making it very
difficult for the defender to cover all the options. It is also possible to
organize the players on the field to take advantage of other kinds of space.
The two commonly used formations are the German and the flat stack. I like the
German because I think it gives the main cutter some nice side-to-side space
that leads to some great downfield options. I don’t like flat stack plays very
much because the lanes are too crowded and you have to move several cutters
out of the way in order to make space for the intended target. Why not just
start with them moved out of the way? Admittedly, things are a little
different at the elite level because of the sophistication of the defenders,
but the basic plan is the still to make space for a single cutter. An elite
pull play might put three guys in motion, two of whom are making space and one
of whom is the cutter using that space. I don’t think this is necessary at the
college level; I have yet to see a college team consistently pull off the
three-way switch necessary to shut down a pull play.
4. Practice. And more practice.
Good luck.
Lindsey Hack
What makes a great play great is simplicity and creativity. It should be
designed to have a main cut, but also a bail out. It should be taught on
paper, on a whiteboard, with walk-throughs and at full speed. In the past, we
have relied more on designing our own plays. My women’s club team has minimal
to no plays, but the college team I coach has a playbook that they rely on
probably 20% of the time off a dead disc situation. They are usually called by
the handler picking up the disc or by a coach from the sideline. Personally, I
would love to use them more, but there are only so many hours in the day.
One play that I have found to work at the women’s college level pretty
successfully over and over again is a ‘double or single with cheese’. Vertical
stack, player with disc being forced a direction (or they can be forced
straight up). Player on front of stack curls break and takes off deep. Last
person back or last two players back cut in hard open side. Huck goes to
streaking deep player. Now, if it is a straight up mark, the player with the
disc will yell out the play and the side they want to throw to. So, let’s say
the play call is “Worthy” and the player loves their flick huck against a
straight up mark. Flick huck would go to the home side. So, the player with
the disc would yell out “Worthy, home!”
Seth Wiggins
Steal, steal, steal. If you are the smartest play to have ever played the
game, you may have reason to rely on your own originality. If not, find out
who is—be it player, team, or just a better division—and how they position
themselves to be successful. Any stoppage of play, between points, after
timeouts, after violations, will allow you to see what they want to do, given
the context on the field. Pay attention during your games. Scout opponents
during your bye round. Watch film. Stealing from others may seem unoriginal,
but ignoring available information about successful strategies makes your team
worse than what it could be. Watch and learn, but remember what you’re looking
for. Effectiveness in Ultimate is the combination of strategy and athletic
ability; enough of one often makes up for a lack in the other. Unless you
realistically plan on doing the same, ignore strategy that aims to out-muscle
other teams—look for teams and plays that are successful even against superior
athletes. Then use it like you drew it up yourself.
An example of a stolen play is one that comes (I believe, but who knows or
cares?) from Vancouver’s Furious George. It can be run with any formation
downfield, but it starts with the disc near the middle of the field, and two
players on the sideline—one even with the disc, and one downfield. To start
the play, the cutter even with the disc makes an up-line cut towards the
middle of the field, and then goes deep. The cutter downfield near the side
line then sprints parallel with the sideline back to the disc. Thrower gets
the disc to the sideline to the downfield cutter, who then looks up to the
handler cutter either continuing his cut deep, or coming underneath.
This play is currently run by most teams in the Northwest. We’ve all seen it
many times, but it continues to work again and again. The reason for its
continued success is what you should be looking for in a well designed set
play: Its ability to force a defense to concede what the offense wants. When
the defense knows this play is coming, it can adjust in a number of ways, but
none of them (at least that I’ve seen or tried) could consistently provide a
better outcome then what the offense wanted in the first place. The downfield
cutter’s defender could come all the way around to stop the first cut under,
but this would give the thrower, usually the offense’s best, a deep shot to a
receiver with space. Deep help could come, but would also free their cutter to
get an open look in the middle of the field. The mark could adjust to take
away the sideline, but this gives up a dangerous downfield break opportunity.
Zone defenses, full of holes themselves, lead to dangerous match-up problems
later in the point. The defense is stuck—and forced to give the offense what
it wants. Think as hard as you can how your plays can do the same—but if a
different team or opponent is doing a better job, be smart enough to recognize
as well as benefit from their work.
Andy Lovseth
It was late 2007, and Western Washington University was fielding an alumni
team at the Sundodger Invitational. It was early on Saturday—round one or two,
and I believe we were playing Simon Fraser University. A nice group of lads if
ever I’d seen. They had just put a goal in, and I was trotting back to line
with Dave Bestock, Ben Wiggins, and Aly Lenon, among others.
When we arrived to the line, Aly tells me to call a line. Now, I’ve called
hundreds, if not thousands of lines in my time. Calling the 1, the 2, the 3;
flat or vertical; defense on the turn—it has become an intuitive discipline.
That morning it was cloudy, yet bright. I looked to the sky above, and it
struck me like inspiration from the Gods.
“Alright boys, let’s run the double flat stack.”
Now, no one on the line had ever run, let alone heard of, the double flat
stack, including myself. I received confused looks and guffaws of incredulity.
Like Motzart’s pen to sheet music, the words from my lips were a seemingly
divine revelation. Here’s how I remember it best:
“I’m the one, Ben you’re the two. Dave you’re the three. You and Reid are the
deep stack. Start 50 yards deep. Aly you’re the four. You, Brian, and Jack are
the short stack; start 25 yards out. You guys are the wickets. You have to
stand completely still—we don’t want a Berkeley Pick Machine here. Dave, you
gotta come screaming through those wickets—sprint as hard as you can—and as
soon as you and your defender have cleared the wickets, make a sharp left turn
and come across flat for the pass.
“Reid you clear under to open up the endzone. Aly, as soon as Dave clears
those wickets, your running a post route to the back right corner of the
endzone. Outside-in flick huck from Dave. Score. Got it? Backhand on a turn.”
More confusion and incredulity.
We signaled for the pull. My team sets up. It looks beautiful—a 2-3-2
formation. I bring down the pull, center it to Ben. Dave takes his man out and
then comes in, busting through the wickets, and curls flat for the pass. Aly
takes off and gets a good jump on his man who looks pretty confused. Dave
laces a floaty huck out in front of Aly, which gives him an easy catch to run
on to in the endzone. Boom, boom, boom. Score.
If only that’s how it actually turned out. Alas, I had centered the disc to
Ben who had (somewhat predictably) jammed the pass to Dave as he was just
arriving at the wickets, not after he had curled. Dave’s defender got a hand
on the disc, and we were on D. We ended up getting the disc back and scoring
that point, but the double flat stack had failed.
So what can we learn from this story? Well, first, never call Ben Wiggins as
the 2. Second, creativity and experimentation should be embraced, whether in
offensives sets or plays. We’ve all been running the same stacks and defenses
for twenty years. Mix it up a little. You could have good idea, which might
turn into a great idea, which could potentially turn into a championship idea.
Hey, it worked for Furious George and the “single” flat stack. Three UPA Club
Championships later, it’s looking like one of the best ideas yet.