Russian Kate (??)
Actually I’ve never talked to Beau in real life. Several times I tried to invite him to All Stars Camp, but got refusal. I’m still not sure what’s happened and why he did change his mind, but it’s a fact. When I was already sure that my poll of coaches is absolutely complete and I would be resistant to any persuasion I got an email from Beau with the subject “hallo”. Further emails had laconic subjects as well, e.g. “sorry”, “flight”, etc.
Then I’ve got his … umph… “interview” as laconic as his emails.
In order for you to understand my confusion I have to tell you how I prepare articles about coaches. I send the same list of questions to everyone. After I get their first response I may ask additional questions to show more interesting details.
For example, this is an article about Chris Gibson – I asked a few questions about practices and tactics. There is an article about Mac Taylor – I didn’t ask a single additional question (you don’t have to read it right now, just look how big and complete is it). This is what Beau wrote about his friend Ashlih Joye as an introduction to the article.
So now, I think, it’s time for article about Beau.
- Date of birth: June 23, 1982
- Place of birth: Fairbanks AK
- Height: 6’4”
- Weight: 200
- School: CU Boulder
- When and why did you start playing ultimate?
- My mother did not like me hanging around the house
- When did you join Revolver? And why?
- Because my friend Martin told me too
- What teams did you played before?
- Bravo (Kate’s note: Johnny Bravo, Colorado)
- Have you ever played national teams? Tell me more about this experience, please.
- Yes, it is fun
- What number(s) do you wear? And why?
- 50 because it is how many inches i want to be able to jump but it I can’t do it yet so I have to keep training.
- What do you consider to be your greatest achievement in ultimate?
- Going to Russia
- Tell me about your most memorable tournament. (why?)
- Last year UPA finals because we lost and I really dislike loosing especially if Brodie is on the other team.
- What is your position on the field?
- Because it’s fun to do different things
- How do you think what you can do best on the field?
- What is your favorite throw?
- What else do you do (if anything!) apart from playing ultimate? Do you have any other hobbies?
- Motorcycles, video games and food
- Where do you work?
- Do your colleagues know that you play ultimate? What do they think about it?
- Nope, i don’t have any colleagues but if i did they would make fun of me
- Does ultimate help you in other aspects of your life?
- yes, money, cars and babes
- Why do you want to take part in the Russian Training Camp?
- Because Kate kept asking
- Do you have any teaching/coaching experience?
- If yes, what did you do?
- Camps all over the world
- Do you ever learn anything new yourself at such training camps?
- No (Kate's note: this is actually the first time when I got the “no” answer and I do not really believe it)
- Is there anything specific you want to do/try during your visit to Russia?
- What do you already know about Russia? :)
- They are crazy on youtube
- Anything else you want to tell about yourself?
- I like wild animals
- Write everything you want to tell to players!
- I look forward to helping you become a better player in anyway i can.
Yes, I would be very disappointed if I got that kind of answers from any other coach. I would even recall my invitation to the Camps, because I might consider such runaround a great disrespect which is not worth our attention (I always send couple of examples of articles to show how it should look like).
But not this time.
After I read what Beau wrote about himself I asked him to write common and boring answers. Neither I asked him any additional questions nor I tried to make his responses interesting as I usually do. But I always try to find and demonstrate the most interesting and strong sides of personalities of our coaches (not just on the field).
So be it.
I believe that besides obvious athlete talent Beau has a unique … talent in literature. Style of write ups, perhaps? Sense of humor? Sarcasm? It’s up to you to decide. Please find below four of Beau’s write ups about our coaches Mac, Martin and Ashlin and finally about himself. Be careful. It’s is dangerous. I warned you.
Beau about Mac Taylor
(from Mac’s facebook page – Beau’s comment to a post about Mac going to Russia)
Mac speaking -- Alright little Russian campers, first you must get the disk in your hands, get a firm grip, feel the plastic, fell how light it is in your big strong hands, the wind rushing at your back. Then pick a cutter down field, watch him run, enjoy the effort he spends for you, once you've made eye contact let your gaze wonder away from him further down the field past the end zone beyond the row of spectators.
Those spectators are there for you and they came to see power, they want to see the canon. Now your teammates will try to discourage you from throwing your fifth turnover of the game, they will yell and beg, they are pathetic with all that drivel and should be ignored. Find the horizon and let your full body exploit that plastic disc, rip it with all your might, for might is the only thing worth respecting.
If you've done it right the cutter will think he has a chance and will run after it only to realize he is way out of bounds and it still ain't slowing. That disc is long gone but everyone watching will be so awed by how far you threw it. Again those wretched teammates will plead for control, turn to them and boldly say, "that disc was mine to give away". What they don't know it that it is always mine to give away.
Go forth little russians and do the work of Mac and remember if someones going to throw a turnover it might as well be you and you might as well do it with power.
Beau about Martin Cochran
The Farricker Spirit Award Nomination
The Farricker Spirit Award is given to the player in the open division of the USA Ultimate's Club Championship Series adjudged to have exhibited personal responsibility, integrity, and fairness combined with a high standard of playing ability. Below is Revolver's humble contribution to this highly coveted award.
Lumbering. Never has a word been so eloquently defined in the action of one human being as it has in the human who responds on occasion to the name Martin Cochran. It goes without saying that his very presence gives you an awkward tingle as if the state of his robust weight could tip into a disastrous tumble at any moment. The kind of tumble that could end badly for any knee, shin or small dog within tripping distance. Oh but it gets worse.
Once, in full sight of his college ultimate team, a simple wooden bench well respected in the Texas strip mall district took the full brunt of a sitting Martin, the crackling cries of those wooden planks as they shrieked for mercy gave nightmares to every bench within two miles. The only thing worse was the silence that followed, the hollow silence as he rose from the wreckage, there were no dogs that barked, no birds that sung, no words that could be spoken. Only one broken bench that sat crushed and humiliated, ruined to a point where it's soul purpose of supporting those with weary feet could never again be accomplished.
And who did Martin turn to in this dire time for condolence, BLAME, he turned to blame, the easy mistress of any guilty man, he blamed the wood, he blamed the team and he even blamed the size of the Texans who had sat before him. When the blame storm had subsided and only the chilling grip of loss still hung in the atmosphere Martin splayed out in the front seat of a parked car pulled out the Super Dupper Macho Nachos he had probably stolen and proceeded to smirkily regard the depleted bench while stuffing countless calories down his chubby gullet.
Does this sound like the type of man that embodies the Farricker award? The answer is an obvious and resounding NO. But due to the sterile climate and the rule about no repeats we, like the republican party, are forced to put forth a candidate who remains only because of the crumbling lack in competence of the other nominees.
We are not proud of this and we honestly did search high and low in the kitchen cabinets for another but like a three day old burned pot who destroyed every last drop of delicious soup Martin has remained. Crusty, filthy and in need of a soapy soak we have finally come to realize that Matin Cochran is the only pot we have and unless we want to buy a new one we are all going to have to cook with the pot we got.
Beau about Ashlin Joye
(this text was published on camp website in the article about Ashlin)
I am exuberant.
A task worthy of all attempted writing has been laid upon my feet. Unfortunately, it is a task with so many great options and so many voluptuous variables that the solution, even at its best, can only be incomplete. It shall not be my writing that is the cause for such lack of completion; nay it will be the lack of the English words that are available to do justice to the subject matter I am blessed to describe. That subject matter is, as you may have guessed, none other than old long face Ashlin Joye. Properly pronounced “Joy-yeah”.
See, the reason I call Ashlin “subject matter” is because of the noun “matter” that makes up a large portion of who Ashlin is. Most matter usually has volume and one would usually measure the volume of space to find the object’s mass, but it’s a little known fact that Ashlin is not made from usual matter. Neither is he antimatter, dark matter, exotic matter, baryonic matter and surprisingly not degenerate matter, though it does seem like it judging by his thinning hair. No; Ashlin is new type of matter, one that is soon to be named paunchy matter. There is close to zero scientific research done on paunchy matter but what is known is that there is no possible way to measure it’s true girth, for it hides in both this universe and the next and since we don’t know what type of metrics are used in the next we are left only with aw. If you have ever seen Ashlin’s paunch you will be nodding your head and muttering “yup yup”. If you live the sad unfortunate life were Ashlin’s paunch has not graced your sight allow me to expand your view as best I can.
That paunch, pulled from the depth of another world bulges into existence from the frail frame of an almost six foot white boy with such an exquisite curve that pregnant women everywhere have been seen blushing with envy. And then just like the blush the paunch melts away, dissipating back into the murky waters of myth.
But how, how can such a frail man have such a buoyant paunch? His secret is milk. Gallons upon gallons of milk. For those who argue milk is unhealthy for humans, Ashlin is your shining star, stop your search, your poster child has been found. A milk mustache on Ashlin’s face once caused an entire cow colony to quit lactating from the sheer horror of seeing what milk could do if abused. It has gotten so bad that the corner market has a picture informing the tellers that Ashlin has a stipend of two gallons a week. Sadly, there are other darker ways to acquire the white substance. A cluttered alleyway called the Cow’s Cud is a place I have caught Ashlin more times than I want to share. On his disheveled knees a dity utter in mouth he balls like a baby when I push his dealer cow away, the tell tale white upper lip reveals the time he has wasted sucking down the milkmaid’s delight. I have even tied Ashlin to the couch and listened to the whimpering “moos” all through the wee hours of night when sleep should be given it’s right to rule.
You would think this person who I have painted would be useless in every facet of life and you would be painfully right if it weren't for one barely redeemable characteristic that is Ashlin’s ability to play ultimate. Even with his high level of laziness, his out of this world paunch, and his steadfast determination to drink the world dry of milk, he manages to play a game of ultimate that should be reserved for those who actually train hard.
So it is with strong reservations that I send Ashlin Joye to Mother Russia to teach the game of ultimate. As for the wonderful country of Russia, you would be wise to warn your women, hide your cows, and keep your many dash cams rolling because you are in for one hell of a show. For better and definitely for worse.
And Beau about Beau
And now the write up of Beau Kittredge who will be traveling to Russia to teach bad habits and deplorable manors. Beau has been called slothy by a paw full of people and the nickname works: the speed he moves at during normal day life would make any sloth jealous. When you first meet Beau you are stunned. His distant stare and poor posture show very little signs of intelligence, even though he has stunning blue eyes he wastes their beauty by gazing at the most shiny object in the room, which can be anything from a lit candle to an empty saltshaker.
You may have met him a hundred times yet when you say your name he stares about like a drunk zombie and you must wait and wait for a response as if you were using internet that only has a dial up connection. Finally if you are one of the fortunate few who does get a response, it is garbled and filled with slurred static and you get the immediate desire to fix it the way granny use to fix the old TV set by slapping it on the side with a gin bottle. But you don’t have a gin bottle and granny’s TV was not 6’4” though it was the same 200 pounds of unwieldy weight.
If you manage look past his inadequate memory and dive into conversation he would divulge to you nothing above a third graders IQ, that's because he dropped out of college while trying to get a degree in theater - that’s right, theater - so not only may he be incredibly stupid but he can’t even act smart.
Now let’s move off the brain and onto the face that protects the content of his character by being as unappealing as a clogged toilet in a public bathroom. Most take one look and move on to the next stall. For those who bravely flush their fear away and face Beau head on be prepared to show mercy.
A nose that pays homage to the bulge of a beer belly commands the center of his face and overlooks a pair of lips that look like two seals who died in a mating accident because BP lied about cleaning up the beach. The sad part is these two mismatched features help by keeping your attention of the rest of his face which could easily be replaced with a slightly charred naked mole rat. His brow is furled and frozen in the shape of confusion while old man wrinkles constantly shift around the rest of his face in such a way that it makes milk curdle well before the expiration date and sometimes even before Ashlin can get to it.
Lets move away from the face for the sake of smell for Beau has a horrendous stench that clings to him with resolve of bigotry; everywhere he goes toes curl and girls wash their clothes as soon as he leaves.
It would be nice to make fun of his body type but whenever he is seen wondering in public he appears to be walking proof that global warming is a hoax and remains hidden in an excessively warm bundle of mismatched clothing that was probably a major inspiration for the hit song “Thrift shop”. Except I would wager a guess that not even a thrift shop would accept 90 percent of what hides in his closet.
Even though we could go on about the shortcomings of Beau forever lets make it hard and talk about what he is good at. Well, he is great at finding cereal on sale and eating it and despite eating mostly Cheerios he manages to stay in good enough shape to make it back to the store which is over a mile away to get more cereal.
In conclusion I will draw attention to the disturbing way in which the cereal is consumed, it is combination of a wood chipper an old vacuum cleaner and sounds remarkably similar to a car crash between the bat mobile and skeleton of an arthritic moose. The crunching and snapping noise produced by that munching mouth has even been used to make the worlds first ever fire alarm for deaf people.
Russia you have made a mistake by inviting Beau but lets be fair it’s not the first or the worst mistake you have made.
Guys, be careful, or the Ultimate world will remember you as "that guy Beau jumped over" (video)
Ashlin’s roasting response to Beau
When Beau first told me he was going to Russia I was worried… I might even say a little angry. How could Russia be so irresponsible as to invite the most despicable creature known to the sport to come coach ultimate camps? It was an unpleasant thought, and I’ve puked a little each time I’ve thought about it. But I wasn’t just worried about the safety of Mother Russia’s young, impressionable youth. There was a much bigger problem at hand. Who was going to be capable of writing an excerpt about this man that would do him the justice he deserves?
Then Beau informed me he had already written a roast of himself, arguing that no one could roast himself like he could. After reading it, I believe this to be true. Everyone knows Beau’s writing style is unique: colorful expressions, haunting descriptions, intricate contradictions, and twisted analogies. And this piece would not disappoint. His roast was a classic: containing everything from seal-mating accidents describing grisly lips that cover up front teeth resembling a cow catcher, to an image of a granny slapping the side of a TV with a gin bottle to help explain his grotesquely frozen bitter-beer face. We’ve come to expect these amazing pieces of literary genius from him, but this one was different.
It takes a very special kind of person to roast oneself. And I don’t mean special as in the way Beau can’t be taught how to open his beloved cereal without shredding the boxes first, or the way he begins spilling the cereal on the floor before he’s even made it to his bowl, or even the way he eats every meal like a fat, deaf cow chewing on it’s cud. I mean special in that he consciously wrote the roast of himself so as to avoid being slandered by anyone else. Adapted from the brilliant move of Jimmy “B-Rabbit” Smith, Jr., estranged white-rapper played by Eminem in the move 8-mile, it goes something like this; make fun of yourself so that there is no material left for your opponent to use against you. Well played, Beaufort.
But this is where I reveal something to each and every one of you. It’s ALL an act. Everything you’ve heard about the famous Beau Kittredge. Every story, fable, and children’s book has all been part of his master plan. Sure, he may have flunked out of college while trying to get a degree in theater, but that was no accident. His amazing acting skills have allowed him to mooch off unsuspecting friends like a Candiru Vampire Fish, living in San Francisco the last 4 years without a job to show for it. I imagine someone that talented would have been able to get a degree in theater if they wanted to. Instead, all people see is what Beau wants them to see: a pathetic, sniveling sloth too lazy to use soap when it showers and too useless to take care of itself. It’s how he gets people to cook for him, clean up after him, and wash the filth from him when he “forgets” to go to the bathroom. It’s even how he lures naïve women into his bed.
Yes it’s detestable, but don’t feel guilty; we’ve all fallen for his tricks. Take arguing, for example. If you know Beau, you know he loves to argue. If you’ve been unfortunate enough to have a conversation with Beau, you’ve also had an argument with Beau. And if you’ve had an argument with Beau, you’ve lost an argument to Beau. But it wasn’t because he was right. It was because his argument was incomprehensible, yet so carefully crafted; his delivery bizarre, yet so eloquent; and his reasoning flawed, and yet so uncompromising that you had no option except to surrender. It’s a sad fact, but there is no winning against a mind like Beau’s. I can only hope that this message reaches you in time to save you before he ruins you’re life as well.
Of course then there’s the ultimate side of Beau. The hardworking, incredibly talented, and committed leader that has been a huge driving force behind the success of Revolver’s championship runs. There’s not a person playing ultimate that can match up with him athletically, and although his throws look unorthodox, he’s become one of the more efficient throwers in the game. Jumping over, sprinting past, and running through people are his greatest strengths, but he excels in every part of the game. This excellence in the sport of ultimate is why he has been invited to come to Russia. Having said that, I want to make sure you do not forget the main point of this piece. Yes, Beau may be good at ultimate, but he’s a terrible person. Russia, you have been warned. THE END
OK OK… In spite of the estimate that at least half of what I’ve written is somewhat true, and at least 25% hasn’t been exaggerated at all, Beau is actually one of the better people I know. He has shown himself to be extremely generous, an excellent teammate, a gifted writer, and a hilariously fun and extraordinary individual. He has also become one of my very good friends. And I’m a pretty good judge of character, so that’s saying something.
P.S. Beau consumes more milk than I do
Now I’m quite curious about his coming here …