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From: "Jester Bit" <jester_bit@hotmail.com>
To: britdisc@csv.warwick.ac.uk
Subject: Edinburgh Festival Hat Tournament Sermon
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Date: Wed, 19 Aug 1998 17:19:29 PDT
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My Children of the Disc
What follows is an account of what will be remembered by those who
gathered on that revered weekend of the 15th and 16th of August in
Edinburgh as the greatest weekend in their collective existence.
Ultimate is religion and lo I shall preach!
Let me take you back, back to, The Beginning . . .
And lo a message was sent forth from the email accounts of the Sneeekys
contacts:
'Let those who would partake in the Greatest Show on Earth converge on
the fair City of Edinburgh in the middle of the Festival Fringe to
demonstrate to the people from every corner of the world what can be
done with the manipulated spheroid embodiment of one hundred and
seventy-five grams of plastic without the need for batteries!'
And lo the Children of the Disc passed the message from mouth to mouth,
with no fear of the spreading of disease as they new this was indeed the
Pure Weekend promised to them by the Elders of the Disc since time
began. More than just another weekend, more than just another two days
of the calendar year oh yes, much more. More. M.
The Middle
And on the morning of the 15th day of August the Children did gather.
Some were tired, some so tired that they had snored like a sealion on
heat, and to some extent acted like one. Some were tired for they had
travelled many miles, other for they had not been able to sleep with the
excitement and other for their devotion to Ultimate's life-blood. Beer.
Much pleasure was taken in the sub-tropical heatwave that sent Festival
temperatures to new record highs. There were many cuts, many bruises, a
dislocated jaw, three fractured ribs, eight broken fingers, fifteen
pulled hamstrings and one leg broken in four places, and that was just
the stamped of the crowd from the centre of town when they heard the
airhorn for the start of play.
And as it was written, the 18 teams split into one pool and played a
round robin over both days. All were elated when games were scored using
the Sneeeky Way, a system handed down from generation to generation of
Sneeekys. Play proceeded until I, as impartial non-playing shin
splintered observer, would stop play when the Time Was Right and go to
the 200 strong impartial Festival crowd (including Howard Marks, Ed
Byrne, and Pop Sensation B*Witched) enjoying the free hospitality
provided by Caledonian Breweries and Hagen Das in the comfy chair
grandstand for a mass spirit vote to determine the winner. Many thought
the all female French pickup, Viva le Chic, would have won more votes
had they not been forced to play in rabbit costumes donated by the Funny
Funny Funny Bugs Bunny Theatre Company from Fiji. However, all players
found New Hope in this karmatic system and all agreed that the ancient
ones are the best ones.
The End
And lo all of the daylight hours were used until the end of Sunday
approached and the games to drew to a close. The eight outer pitches,
surely once used by the Giants to play Snooker on the same way they used
Stonehenge for dominoes, were abandoned and all congregated on the
centre oblong to experience the first and second place play off, the
Shotgun/Druids/Catch/Chevron combo verses Sneeekys -2 ironman junior
coed three legged pickup. From the sideline my impartial heart was with
them with every touch of the flying thermoform as their incredible Dead
Ants play slowly wore the SDCC combo down. How could they D a team who's
O relied on the little guys from the Budweiser commercials to walk the
disc to the zone for them? The crowd unable to contain their joy any
longer invaded the field carrying the hospitality tents with them and
voted with their lips that everyone's a winner. As I watched these
scenes, I and everyone else realised just how much Emma Beatty and
Stuart Mullinger had done to gather us all together and for the Pure
Weekend. Surely they were the Chosen Ones who would lead us not into
clogging, but deliver us from swill, forever and ever, Ulrika. KA. Ka.
ka.
Cheers for now
All the bester
Brother Jest*r
O
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