I am pictured above on the morning of my departure from the United States, on January 4th, 2010. My mother took this photograph in our house in Hamilton, Massachusetts.

I appear to have many possessions with me—two bags-full, in fact—and such is true. I had to choose those items such as socks, shirts, books, electronics, etc. that would last and satisfy me throughout journeys somewhat indeterminate. Do you know how many awesome t-shirts I have, not to mention button-downs? It's a bunch, for serious, and it was no simple task to elect apparel companions for my southern sojourn.

In other news, and themed similarly, I made a few changes to the website here and added a little view of my time abroad, titled "Morning Carlos." Here's a hint: if you want to be happy, look for some happiness, and click on it. (It's up there at the top! It's a SMILEY FACE!) So far, I have only missed documenting myself one morning since I began the trip. I will do my best!

I was happy to purchase the lens used from Emlyn Stokes, reunited with him briefly in Massachusetts between Christmas and New Years. This lens provides a bit more versatility than the single lens I owned previously,  a 50mm f/1.8 prime. To be fair, I freakin' love my 50mm prime, and I used to have a 28-200mm lens that got kicked a few years ago in Italy. Anyway, the lens will be my go-to while traveling and the 50mm stayed at home.

I was quite pleased to shoot a few lovely photographs from seat 10a on my flight from Miami to Liberia.*

My first few photographs from Costa Rica are on their way—I am quite pleased with how the new lens is performing. Here, let me offer you a preview. Pictured throwing is Arnie Larson.

* I am not in Africa, people. Liberia is a city in the Guanacaste region of Costa Rica. Come on, people, learn some geography (that is specifically relevant to me).

So, last night, after Hovey, Niki, and I dominated (um, yeah... we won 0 to -2) the first game of Mini, we started another game. And I was cutting all lazy and didn't feel like faking Mike hard so I swirled around and then went deep for Hovey and she put up this high OI flick which was actually pretty great but it meant that I had to sky Mike really hard so I did that but somehow my torso ended up above his body and my feet were sort of tangled up below his body and then we landed and my foot fell off. For maybe like a second. I looked down and my foot was turned under and inward with my ankle pointed out and down and then I flexed my leg and it popped back in. Heh. FUN STUFF.

[…]

PS I mentioned that I caught the disc, right?

I broke no bones but severely strained my ligaments. Best case? Worst case? Uncertain. I was so fated to ride crutches hard for just about two weeks, after which I removed my temporary splint to find a mostly unswollen leg and a totally disappeared calf. The calf came back and my pain slowly decreased and I started walking and life got a bit happier. My friends were, in fact, wonderfully helpful and caring. But seriously, there were some bad moments there, like every time I had to take a friggin' shower with a friggin' plastic bag or like when I had arranged, while hopping on one foot, a bowl of macaroni and cheese on the couch to eat and watch TV but then started to lose my balance and caught myself by knocking the macaroni on the floor. GOOD TIMES.

I will thus play no more Ultimate this year and I cannot guess as to when I will run again. But I will be ready to surf in January in Panama. GOOD TIMES.

I wrote the following entry on Monday, September 22nd, the day after our sectionals tournament. I was unsure if I should publish my frank thoughts and they were relegated to the drafts folder—all but forgotten—until now.

The two days following our loss were particularly bad but I regained some perspective as the week progressed and immediate work responsibilities occupied me. Teammates chimed in, reminding us all of the months we had spent together, irrespective of wins and losses, and many of us reunited to celebrate Foster's imminent departure for Argentina.

And so I find myself ready to move on, to find joy in my season with Shadrach, and to put aside regret. Here then are my somewhat less lighthearted initial reactions and a somewhat vague conclusion, or lack thereof.

As if I awoke in autumn, Thursday morning was cold and dismal. And the weekend of sectionals was ushered in with gray and rain. Shadrach suited up with energy and excitement and fire.

And we lost all the games that mattered: D'oh, Shazam and Moonshine. We did not qualify for Regionals—congratulation to those mentioned above—and our season screeched (crashed?) to an unexpected and painful stop. There were moments of greatness and quality throughout and our defensive team was truly heroic in its attempted comebacks against Shazam and Moonshine.

But we lost.

And I played poorly—insignificantly. I had no appreciable positive effect on any of the three important games. I never felt that I was particularly involved, playing three points each against Shazam and Moonshine. My single point in the second half against Moonshine, in the game to go, I caught one and dumped it and then caught another and threw it away. I was disgusted with myself and felt disconnected from whatever part of me produced good Ultimate. Turned off.

So I didn't play again. I cheered and yelled and talked to our defense and did whatever I could to help from the sidelines. Despite a 4 – 8 deficit at half, we caught up to Moonshine at 13 – 14 before they scored the final point and sealed our fate.

I was shocked and humbled and devastated. We had worked for nearly six months to build Shadrach and the team's season was done far sooner than we could have imagined. There was nothing I could do or say. I wanted to apologize to the team, but for what? Instead I just kept quiet as we had a brief post-game huddle and then collected our belongings for departure.

Listen to "The Worst Day Since Yesterday" by Flogging Molly

One season ends; what begins? I've left NeonGecko and I work freelance. I'm still lonely. So it's autumn now, it's the fall. And I suppose it was time for some new colors around here anyway.

I actually took my camera out of its case on Sunday at Kleinman—not to take photographs of Ultimate, mind you, but rather to snap a bunch of portraits of our squad that weekend. I think I'll be sticking to such shots for as long as I'm only packing my 50mm 1.8 portrait lens. In truth, I get a bit overwhelmed when I try to shoot with wider glass; I like the enforced composition limits with a 50mm.

Check out Shadrach at Kleinman Eruption 2008.

Cheer: Lunch at Pok Pok offered distinctive and delicious Thai. I quite enjoyed my tamarind whiskey sour, the roasted game hen and the desserts—we sampled every single one on their menu. I recommend it highly.

Cheer: The Fisher have a beautiful home and offer fantastic hospitality. Add to this hospitality a brand new Wii, Francis and company's cooking (the polenta, oh my god, the polenta), and Abby Armstrong's birthday and we had a wonderful evening.

Cheer: Lilli and Krump came through in the pinch to increase our number of ladies from five to seven.

Jeer: I had quite a few execution errors and some uncharacteristic drops all day Saturday. All in all, I was feeling out of sorts and disconnected from the team—I blame our time off from practice in July and general discombobulation in my life.

Cheer: Despite any lack on my part, our team came away from with a three and one record on Saturday, only falling to the stacked Montana–Portland team who eventually won the tournament.

Jeer: I turned my left ankle quite badly during our last game on Saturday and sat out the remainder. Booo.

Cheer: The hot tub at our Best Western was the size of a normal pool shallow end. So good.

Cheer: Dessert and coffee at Pix Patisserie before the party. Krump and I shared the Queen of Sheba truffle cake, warmed up and with mocha ice cream, and the Shazam! concoction.

Jeer: On Deck, the sports bar hosting the tournament party, could not decide if it wanted to be in Los Angeles or Las Vegas. In other words, it did not belong in Portland and filled with Ultimate players.

Cheer: the looks on the faces of the excessively made-up women waiting in line as our Shadrach crew skipped said line. VIP, dude. Also, we still rocked the party.

Jeer: Shadrach came out sleepy and unmotivated Sunday morning to lose our quarterfinal against crosstown rivals Moonshine. This loss was perhaps our first ever to them? They played great and we did not. At least we have some angry motivation now.

Jeer: Our consolation opponents, Thompson High JV, left after they lost in the quarterfinals and we didn't even have a second game on Sunday.

Cheer: Dave and I hit up King Burrito for lunch, per the recommendation of a nice bearded fellow from Breaker's Mark. $5 for a fantastic burrito and horchata? Yes, very yes.

Cheer: I had a great weekend with old Claremont friends, our beautiful Shadrach crew, and all the Ultimate acquaintances I've collected over the years. Hooray for friends.

My next two stops are the work week and then the final two days of WUGC 2008 in Vancouver. I'll let you know how each go.

Enough excuses: on to Potlatch.

Potlatch 2008 was my favorite Potlatch yet, and certainly my most successful. Our team was large and in charge and just chock full of my friends, of people whom I absolutely love. I had not played with some of these people for years—I think Steve and I were last on a team together at Potlatch in 2004. We came out rolling on Friday, kicking ass with little trouble, and looking oh so good in the jerseys Joaquin judged to be 3rd best in at Potlatch (behind Downtown Brown and Jewbilation).

Here is the much-lauded design:

Believe me: they looked even better in person, especially when matched with the rainbow pony sweatbands and tattoos I found for team schwag and gifts. Here, check out what a beast Kevin is in his jersey.

Right, so, our play. First, our team was stacked to an extent I didn't quite realize before we all suited up. Many of our players are… um, fantastic? And some of them had gotten quite a bit better since I had last seen them play. Second, we figured our game out fairly well and quickly, aided somewhat by an easy pool on Friday. Check out Jughead's Potlatch Day 1 recap for more details.

Saturday we had a much more competitive pool, with a UCLA alumni team, a UCSD alumni team and, wait for it, Team Fisher Price. For the uninitiated, TFP is the Canadian National Mixed team. They had beaten Shazam the night before in a USA v. Canada Worlds preview and exhibition match. In short, we won our first game against Smash Masters, the UCLA squad, and lost our second game against Chromeo, the UCSD team. If we wanted to make the top bracket on Sunday, we had to win our final game, against TFP.

So we decided we were going to do it. And we played insane, fantastic, crazy good and we took half 8 – 7. They were shaken, and we believed. But then they tied us at 9 – 9. We didn't worry much. And then they ran off a bunch to 9 – 13 and soft cap went on (game to +2 = 15, win by 2). But we believed. And we had the bald eagle and Abraham Lincoln and liberty and justice and Homeland Security on our side. So we tightened up our rotation and scored five (5) points in a row to win 14 – 13 in hard cap (sudden death).

The final point was classic. They threw what they thought was an easy in-cut only to have Lucy speed past her lady and catch the defensive block cleanly and uncontested, just yards out of their endzone. She dished to Steve and Steve flipped a short scoober to Kevin for the win. Victory!

Again, check out Jughead's Potlatch Day 2 recap for more details.

We spent a lovely evening on Saturday serving food at the first party shift, which means that you only have to serve a few dozen people and you get the first chance at feeding yourself. Brilliant! Our team, exultant and unified by our recent victory, went at the evening with abandon. Details are best left to legend and the photos on Avery's iPhone.

Sunday was a bit disappointing. We lost our first game—A bracket prequarters—to D'oh, a Seattle mixed team who pulls some from Shazam, Riot, etc. at Potlatch. They played with speed and energy and we slacked on defense and miscued on offense. I honestly believe that we should have shotgun a bunch of PBR to relax the team—no matter it was 10:30 in the morning. This was not the DarkHorse of past victories. What else can I say? They outplayed us.

We played out our next two games, beating Lawn Party—we were now invulnerable to Canadians—and a Northwest School "reunion" team, Rage. I put "reunion" in quotes because some of their players were still in high school. We were well connected to Rage: Alex Wells coaches or coached a number of them, a few of their players are current Braineaters and one young lady practices with Shadrach. Oh, also, Schuyler's brother was on the team. All in all, they were fun to play but couldn't really match us. We took the victory and finished our weekend tied for 9th overall. Not bad for the ol' Horse, huh?

I was a bit emotional at this point, considerably tired from the Ultimate and revelry, and overwhelmed by the intense happiness I had been riding for three days straight. We circled up for final thanks and goodbyes, as I was departing posthaste to fly to Los Angeles. I teared up a bit and tried unsuccessfully, first, to convince everyone to pay me and, second, to explain to them how much they all and the weekend meant to me. I got my hugs, took down my tent and left Potlatch.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, DarkHorse, for an amazing weekend. We were inspired, intense, beautiful, hot, spirited, debaucherous, hilarious and just oh so good. I could not have asked for more.

Check out Prude's photos for a glimpse into the DarkHorse experience.

Ain't no pony like the DarkHorse pony.

Oh, over the entire weekend, I misplaced one item. RIP Pink Supersonics headband. I suppose, with the team leaving Seattle, the loss is appropriate. I am, therefore, very much in the market for a new pink headband. I will happily reward anyone who finds me one.

Here, at last, is the design for our 2008 jersey.

Just kidding. The design is secret until Potlatch. Only two people have seen it (and neither are coming to Potlatch): Whit and Stylish.

I think this new jersey is one of my finer works in general and likely my best jersey design, edging out the LMLP jersey I designed for Paganello this year. I went a bit simpler and less ridiculous than the original DarkHorse logo and with no sublimation, just purple and orange printed on purple.

I am so excited. I am so excited for our jerseys and our gifts and our drinks and most of all our team. Did I mention that four dozen pony sweatbands and nearly 300 pony tattoos were delivered to my apartment today? And that we are increasing our quantity of giant foam cowboy hats from one (1) to two (2)?!?!?

We are:

1. Kirsten Avery
2. Amanda Bailey
3. Lucy Barnes
4. Schuyler Charf
5. Neva Cherniavsky
6. Ashley Hovey
7. Katie Krump McDonald
8. Deirdre Ronaldson
9. Sarah RV Ross-Viles
10. Trina Stout
11. Faye Ziegeweid

1. Daniel Shy Chazin
2. Drew d'Avis
3. Steve Kolthammer
4. Sam DarkHorse Miner
5. Joaquin Nagle
6. Michael Prude
7. Cassidy Rasmussen
8. Jay Jughead Schulkin
9. Kevin Stout
10. Michael Stout
11. Alex Mom Wells
12. Dave Zucker

Helping to wrangle the herd are additionally:

1. Nick Kassebaum
2. Joe Kolthammer
3. Brooke Riggio (and family?)

Beautiful.

Sadly, only eleven ladies were there, three of those returners. I hope that we have more ladies tonight—we will perhaps benefit from recent Riot and Viva cuts. And a few ladies from UW Element have been unavailable in preparation for the UPA College Championships this weekend.

Ignoring returners/core players with a guaranteed spot on Shadrach, twenty-one (21) men were trying out last week with an additional eight (8) returners, I think. And there are more men than that who have expressed interest in playing but have not attended. We shall see how many are there tonight.

Our target roster is 25 players. I see the optimal arrangement as an offensive line of eleven (11) with five women and six men. The defensive line would be fourteen (14) players with six women and eight men.

Regardless, I am way stoked for the season. After a week off following my neck and back injury, I returned to Air Alert yesterday afternoon. Let me tell you: it was death, but I feel great today. I think tonight I will force myself to play less and watch more. And I may "coach" a few players into showing off certain skills for which we're looking.

Running for your huck and your dump and your slap mack
Is your name Carlos d'Avis?
No, mine's Shadrach.

• bellalogica.com
• briancalle.com
• carlylestout.com
• claremontultimate.org
• decielo.com
• drewd.com
• esplainit.com
• frisbase.net
• frisbolero.com
• hotbombdotcom.com
• lei-out.com
• loveroni.com
• noodlepop.com
• trinastout.com
• whitscott.com
• zoomfocusclick.com

Some of these I obviously hold for other people (and some of those perhaps a bit awkwardly). A few of them represent personal projects or sites for friends that never came to fruition. I spend approximately $150 per year on these "properties," plus another few hundred in site hosting costs. And I receive approximately zero (0) return on investment.

Regardless, I cannot stop myself from registering a new domain name when I have a new idea. I think a strong component of this compulsion is my perception of the scarcity of good domain names. I contributed a whiz-bang 2.0ish domain name to my work the other week, and was a bit miffed that I hadn't conceived of it myself.

My newest acquisition is hotbombdotcom.com. See, some of the Claremont Ultimate kids took to congratulating successful hucks or exciting throws by saying, "Hot bomb dot com slash Gordy slash Jughead slash SWEET." Or something like that, I don't really remember. hotbomb.com has never been available but I think this domain is the next best option. .net is for suckers, and doesn't work with the rhyme.

So, now, what I want to build is a little hotbomb application that automatically parses the URL to show photographs and text. Think hotbombdotcom.com/krump/lull/PFL: the script finds a photograph tagged with 'krump' and another with 'lull' and then displays crazy, colored text of any other URL component strings for which no photographs are tagged. Awesome.

Do you have thoughts on what I should do with any of my other domains? And when am I planning to change 2008 from the year of conception to the year of execution? We shall see.