short, but slow
It took us most of this week to recover from the last weekend. In fact, the mere thought of going through our photos and reliving some of the tournament games was exhausting.
Before heading down to the beach, we hosted a team dinner at our house, with an eye to getting to know each other a bit better and also hoping to come up with a catchy team name. The goal was something that was both amusing and which would be anxiety-inducing for our opponents. Last year, our team name was Pants Optional, which certainly accomplished the first goal but fell short of the second aim once we actually played an underwear point and discovered that one of our teammates wore frilly undergarments.
This time we had all but settled on Mashetani — Kiswahili for “devils” — the dark forces that had apparently led president-elect Uhuru Kenyatta to make a pre-election pact with one of his rivals only to subsequently break it once he saw the light. Then out of left field came the suggestion Short But Slow, which cracked up enough of our players to instantly stick.
We spent the rest of the tournament trying not to live up to the name. There was not much to be done about our height, or lack thereof, but we could at least try to run hard. Of course, given that we were playing in ankle-deep sand, running full-speed still felt like trudging through molasses.
The blistering sun and fierce coastal wind didn’t help either. By the end of the tournament we were so dehydrated that one beer was enough to make us a bit loopy, and D barely made it through dinner Sunday night before crashing.
We had a late flight back Monday, so we spent the morning lazily looking at the ocean, reflecting on the weekend, and taking potshots at the thieving vervet monkeys that lurked around our leftover food. This year’s FEAST had definitely topped the previous year’s tournament – perhaps enough so that we might use one of our R&R tickets at our next post to come back and play again in East Africa’s best Ultimate Frisbee tournament.