[scroll down to see tourney write-ups]
(photo from Nationals)
(photos from World Flying Disc Championship)
Mike Mininni / ??????? / ???????? / Brian O'Donnell / Johnny Olcott / Curtis Weeks
Cliff Marhoefer throwing to Bart Merrill, TK going deep
Brian O'Donnell skies to get the disc
1980 Season
(by Johnny 'Sky' Olcott)
The disappointment at Penn State in 1979 seemed to invigorate the team in 1980. I can't remember losing until we reached the Nationals in Atlanta. One of the frustrating things about this time is that we had to wait over a year and a half for a chance to regain our title, which ultimately didn't happen. We had lost the title to Glassboro in the Spring of '79, but would have to wait until Thanksgiving, 1980. This was the first time the Nationals were held on this date, probably to accommodate the many eastern college teams who went their separate ways during the summer months. Still, the year was not the total loss it may have seemed when we boarded the plane to return home from Atlanta (after getting our butts kicked by Boston and everyone else). Here are some of the highlights and important events that helped shape this year.
1980 proved to be a year in transition, but it didn't really seem like that at the time. We still had pretty much the same team. There were the old vets --TK, Paul Hoosten, Steve Fisher, Schmeck, Bart, Shep, Leek (Steve Rieck), Mininni, and Greggo--and the young but seasoned vets--Kip Harmer and Cliff Marhoeffer--and the new vets who were rookies the year before--Brian Humphries and myself--and then the real rookies, who infused the team with enthusiasm and a little more athleticism--Doug "The Bum" Saulter, Tommy Lewis, Curtis Weeks and Brian O'Donnell. Tommy Lewis and Curtis had been playing at UCSB and they both had a very advanced game for having played only a short time. Tommy's mid to long-range sidearm quickly developed into one of our most potent scoring weapons. Curtis could run your socks off, and they both were intense competitors, Lewis a little more quiet and gentlemanly after a loss, Curtis a little more mercurial. Brian O'Donnell had been playing in Northridge with Irv Kalb and Keay Nakae, who was just starting out. Brian had a good sidearm, and knew how to play offense. His enthusiasm was contagious, and we used to yell on the sideline "Go get 'em, Brian," as he scorched downfield. It was like sicking a Chihuahua on a horse. Doug the Bum came with Dan the Bum and a few other "Bums" who had learned the game through TK at San Marcos High. Most of the "Bums" played on our city league team, The Locals, including future freestyle champion Chip Bell and Greg 'Guru' Forte. They joined forces with Bill Clarke, Tom Cleworth and myself to win the city title over veteran teams with Bart, TK, and Shep. Practicing with the team and playing in a couple tourneys was my brother David, or Psycho Dave, as they used to call him.
The year was a highly successful one. We crushed people left and right. We ran away with the Cal States and the very first World Flying Disc Championships in Santa Cruz. This was a BIG event. The Circus was a talented team, but they were nowhere near the team they would be later on. Our chief rivals were Dark Star from Eugene, and their main gun, Henry Callahan. He was tall, could throw from any angle on the field and was a terrific team leader. He was also a classy gentleman. I remember several times when I lost my cool on the field. Henry just looked at me and said "Johnny," and I shut up. Anyone will tell you that this was hard to do--make me shut up! But he was that kind of person--he commanded respect. At this time we still had the "spirit of the game" rule, and I remember Henry and TK managing to solve hotly contested arguments over important points. We would face Dark Star in the finals twice that year--at the Worlds and again at the Regionals. Both were in Santa Cruz, which soon became a kind of second home.
At the Worlds we faced Dark Star in Cabrillo College Stadium.
The place was absolutely packed with people. They had big CBS
TV cameras, maybe five to eight of them stationed above the field
and on the sidelines. The Ultimate game was not the featured event--that
was freestyle, which would come later. The people in the stadium
were new to the sport, most of them had never seen any competition.
I think Rick Barry was one of the announcers. It seemed like a
coming out party for the sport--on a smaller scale than the Rose
Bowl, but with the same electricity in the air. Storke introduced
both starting lineups and I remember standing up as the crowd
cheered or jeered or whatever when he said "Johnny Sky."
I was a little embarrassed to tell the truth. I didn't think of
myself in those terms. I was just fast. But the crowd got a kick
out of the name and I remember my teammates ribbing me in the
endzone as we got ready to throw off. I was still a youngster--why
was I getting the cheers? After the introductions, we basically
crushed them.
Dark Star played a mediocre game or we were just too fast. Early
in the game, they had thrown off and I was getting ready to go
deep. We swung the pass around to the right sideline and TK got
it around the 20 or 30 yard line. He saw me streaking down the
middle of the field and let 'er rip, an awesome backhand that
shot down the sideline and into the right corner of the endzone.
I remember my defender peddling backwards 15 to 20 yards before
I got to him (they always did this because they knew I wasn't
going to handle the disc!) I ran straight at him, juked left and
bolted right. I didn't need to look behind me; I knew TK would
chuck it; in fact, he already had, but I had no idea how fast.
The disc was a good thirty yards downfield ahead of me by the
time I was at full speed. There was no way I was going to catch
it, but I could sense the crowd getting excited and I thought
I had a chance. The disc stopped, maybe fifteen feet off the ground
and then it hovered, something TK's bombs seldom did. It just
hovered like a floater at the beach, and I must have run the last
15 to 20 yards just praying it would wait for me. As I dived head
first, flat on my chest and sliding into the corner, the disc
just fell into my hands. I didn't grab it because I thought it
might bounce off my hand. It just slipped into my palm and stayed
there. There was no one behind me and the crowd went bananas.
I remember looking up at the TV camera in the end zone, hearing
Peter Martin say "Great catch, Johnny" from the sideline,
and then trying to act nonchalant, as if this kind of thing happened
to me all the time. I guess it was the moment Johnny Sky became
a name outside of SB, but the truth is that I had done nothing
to deserve the attention. It was one of those lucky moments that
have little to do with talent and maybe more to do with karma.
We played Stanford in the Semis at Regionals, while Dark Star faced the Circus. I thought the Circus would win--they had improved since Worlds, but Dark Star continued to surprise. They could run with anyone--they had stamina and they had energy--and they prided themselves on their defense. We were by this time running on all cylinders. Our offense was fine-tuned, and our defense was still pretty tough. As usual, we struck first. I remember Tommy Lewis hitting me deep on a sidearm. By this time he had learned to read my breaks, so we made a nice tandem. It was a great game, as I remember. It looked like we would run away, but they started going wild on defense and pressed us to the end. I think this is the game where TK flew down the sidelines and went horizontal for the save (anybody help me here? I think this was the year!) Everybody was shocked and jazzed! -- Just a sidenote, I think it was Dark Star who started using the term "horizontal" or the phrase "get horizontal." I remember it was about this time. All I know is that they were a bunch of classy guys who hosted a great tournament in Eugene and who were good sports win or lose.
I think the team was pretty psyched about the Nationals. As I mentioned earlier, we had waited a long, long time for a chance to exact our revenge. In addition, we fielded a strong squad, one with good speed and quickness and outstanding disc skills. Here is a rundown of our offense. At QB we had the rabbit twins, Kip Harmer and Cliff Marhoeffer. These guys were impossible to cover and could throw from either side equally well. Kip Harmer always seemed to throw his sidearm as hard as he could. He could throw a buzzsaw 20-30 yards downfield and the disc would stay 12 inches off the ground! It hurts my hand just thinking about it. These two guys were inter-changeable, both on the short side, but quick and lethal. Also at QB was TK and Bart, most of the time, although he often played Middle. The QB subs included Brian O'Donnell and Doug the Bum. Our strength, however, was in the middle. We had Schmeck (you never wanted to play against this guy in practice, especially at this time!) and Craig Carlisle, both big horses, and Paul Hoosten, an awesome, complete player. Add Mike Mininni (who would play like a wild man and never back down to a fight), Steve Fisher, and Curtis Weeks and Tommy Lewis, and the solid if not spectacular Greg Sharp (he's going to kill me), and we could cause teams big problems when we got the disc past the initial line of defense. Many of the middles saw action at QB, and even deep players like Brian Humphries (a intense player with great throwing skills) and Leek (Steve Rieck) got to play middle or QB. Irv Kalb was also on the team but didn't get to play that often. We had all talked about the zone, and Irv tried to get some throwing drills going, but nobody wanted to play it in practice. We could have played a great zone, but it went against our run and gun and have fun philosophy.
Well, I had to take a different plane from the rest of the team. I had recently quit my job (it was either that or frisbee, and a man's gotta do what he shouldn't perhaps), and I had to scrounge up enough money for a flight. I took a late nighter to Atlanta and checked into a hotel near the airport. The next day I would meet my teammates at the big hotel on Peach Street, downtown. Well, it was raining that morning, Thanksgiving, and I remember getting into the cab and suddenly discovering that I had left the room keys in my pocket. I asked the driver to wait and ran inside to return the keys. On the way out I slipped on this artificial (astroturf-like) surface and went flying. I stuck out my right hand for protection and the rest was history. I didn't know it at the time, but my hand began to swell, and by the time I got to the hotel I could sense that I was out of the tourney. It was a miserable ride and I felt even worse when I saw the look in TK's eyes when I told him. I think the rest of the team didn't think much of it, but the problem was that we didn't really have any other legitimate deep threats, guys that you could count on to score. There were Brian Humphries and Steve Reick, but neither played the position much in practice. In addition, Bill Clark, by far our most talented athlete, had been going to school in Maryland or someplace, and he hadn't practiced with us all year.
So the stage was set for the next morning, where we would meet in a rematch with Glassboro. Of course, wouldn't you know it. The weather was cold, a little windy, and miserable. Glassboro scored early and intimidated us from the start. Our short control game struggled against the elements and the Glassboro players, who were much better than before. They were going horizontal at every opportunity. In brief, we stunk it up. The only highlight was Doug the Bum and Brian O getting some minutes off the bench. I still think we could have beaten them if I had been healthy. My timing with the QBs and Middles was getting really good at this time, and if someone threw it up, I was going to chase it down. Quite often, I would score early in a big game, like the Regionals, and give the offense some confidence, and that's what they were lacking on this day. Moreover, I was really looking forward to playing with Bill Clark, who loved to throw deep.
I don't remember the second game. I just remember getting beat by Michigan State with Ted Roche and Mark Orders. They played a solid game, and it was close throughout. I think Bill Clark's timing and conditioning were off, and our offense struggled with turnovers. The other game I remember was our final loss to Boston Aerodisc with Jim Herrick, Toby and so many others. It was a good game, but we didn't play our best. This was our final game, and even I tried to play a little, since it was feeling better, but could do nothing. It hurt to catch and was impossible to throw. We left Atlanta with our heads in our chests, a little embarrassed and knowing that there would be changes the following year. There had to be.
Looking back, we had a great team, but some of our veterans were a little slow or out of condition, and most of our rookies were a little green behind the ears. I was surprised that guys like Schmeck and Hoosten didn't dominate; Schmeck was unstoppable when he wanted to be, but he was unselfish too, always a team player, and sometimes we needed him to take charge. Most of us would return and win back the championship in 1981, but for now several veterans and warriors had seen their last battles. Among the retirees or must-move-on-with-my-lifers were Bill Clark, who became a dentist; the legendary Irv Kalb; the blazing Brian Humphries, a great athlete with wheels and spunk; Greg Sharp, always a positive influence and a great "ragger" at the same time; the awesome Kip Harmer, with the "hummer", who was well liked by everyone; Steve Rieck, who had a temper as fiery as my own, but whose knees finally gave in; Craig Carlisle, a nicer guy you'll never meet, and a solid player all the way around; Steve Fisher, who was always willing to help young players like myself and Dougie get better; Larry Leveille, who never got to see much playing time, but who was a true member of our family and someone who never said anything bad about anyone. Of course, our coach, Chris Taylor moved on, and guys like Andy Hodgeson and Marcus Stringer, players who practiced with us but didn't make the Nationals squad, for one reason or another, well, these players moved on to make room for a new flock of Condors who would finally gain redemption the following year.
So, 1980, the year of revenge, turned out to be the changing
of the guard. We had been embarrassed in Atlanta, but the simple
truth was that we were not good enough in all facets of the game.
Other teams had more energy--and even better speed, which surprised
all of us. Boston played a better cerebral game against the man-to-man
or zone, and Boro, well, they had better legs and a will to win
that was hard to overcome. If we could have scored early against
either of those two teams, we might have had a shot, but it wasn't
to be.
Johnny 'Sky' Olcott