Where to start?
I guess I can start with some of the things that I have hit in the past. Then maybe I can get into some of the things I wish to hit in the future.
The tricks I have hit include, but are not limited to:
--Toe, Clipper, Inside, Flapper, Sole
--Around the World, Orbit
--Leg Over, Far Legover, Same legover
--Pickup, Far Pickup, Same Pickup
--Mirage, Same/Near Mirage, Symp Mirage, Pdx Mirage
--Illusion, Pdx Illusion
--Ducking Toe, Ducking Clipper, Ducking Pdx Mirage, Diving toe, Diving clipper, Weaving toe, Weaving Clipper, Zulu Toe, Zulu Clipper
--Whirl
--Hop Over, Reverse Hop Over
--DLO
--Osis, Far Osis
--Pdx Dada Curve
--Drifter
--Butterfly
--Symp Quantum, Atomic, Stepping (I must admit I am absolutely atrocious at the latter two)
These are the tricks that I can remember off of the top of my head, there may be others.
The tricks/themes I want to get in the future:
--Whirling Swirl (It feels so natural)
--Improve the Ducking Game
--Pdx Drifter
--Basics, basics, basics, and more basics
--Figuring out how to overcome some handicaps
Now that we have gotten some of the basic introductory stuff out of the way I guess I can tell my story and catch up the rest of the world with my progress. Feel free to skip to the end if you'd like.
My name is Derek Mikesell. 22. I come from a small area commonly referred to as Bumblefuck, Pa. But you won't find that on a map anywhere. I'd suggest looking for Home if you're really trying to find me. The place is about as interesting as the inside of an empty cereal box. The closest thing I had in my life to "hacky-sack" or footbag during these years was a knitted bag emblazoned with a large cross on it; a prize from the Christian Bible School camp I attended at the request of my Grandparents. After quickly defacing it to that of an advertisement for the band Bad Religion it was lost to the depths of my closet, of which I still have not fully explored. I participated in a handful of different athletic adventures throughout my primary schooling. Basketball, baseball, football, soccer, weight lifting, but found the most success and interest in track and cross country. I ran every event from the 100 meter dash to the 5000 meter run; winning a few team titles along the way. I was incredibly lucky my junior year when I was graced by a career ending hip injury in the second lap of the 800m race at the County Invitational. An injury that still plagues me today, severely hindering my ability to progress on my weak side (one of the handicaps I am trying to overcome, but keeps fighting back).
Fast forward a few years and I am in attendance at the Pennsylvania State University, majoring in Mathematics, minoring in Economics. Without physical activity (mainly running), which defined a large part of my being in high school, my life has become a constant dullness of school and work. Exciting. 21 years old and I have yet to find this sport that now takes up so much of my time (in a good way) - a late start if I have ever heard of one. Amidst all of the hullabaloo that was university life, footbag fell into my lap quite randomly. One evening I found myself at the apartment of a friend of a friend, and individual I could call an acquaintance at best, it was his birthday. The night charges on and I find myself another mile away, blocks off of campus in a residence fondly referred to as "The Shred House." To be honest, I didn't exactly know what I was getting myself into. There was talk of a party, a rave. Within the confines of the apartment, something completely different appeared to be going on - but hell, I've never been to a rave so for all I know it was one - I was pretty sure it wasn't. What I saw took me back to that same Christian camp where I received my first bag. On the floor, in the living room, was a four square court stained into the carpet, the result of tape residue from some boundaries past. Four square was the most common pass time at that camp when we were given a second to breathe. But instead of playing with a ball, they were playing with a bag. I had already taken my shoes off at the door and was wearing pants, but I thought to myself, "fuck it" and jumped right in. And well. I never got out after that. From four square to toe stalls, the night progressed from the game to the sport. I got my first real bag, a 32 panel, and walked home with a deep soreness in my legs I wouldn't forget for a while.
I've been playing for 9 months now - 7 months if you take away an injury laden summer, no thanks to my hips. I've met some of the coolest people I know in this sport, from all over the country/world. I'm a graduate student now, still at Penn State (although I'll be transferring out to Stanford if things go correctly) and a member of the PSU club. I recently participated in my first full fledged tournament in New York. East Coasts was a blast, but competing was a real roller coaster. After three rounds that would have enraged Mother Theresa, I fought back with some pretty decent strings and as a result became the East Coast Novice Circle Champ - if that counts for anything. I'm a pessimist at best, and super goal oriented - something that has been both good and bad throughout my training. But, I've been taking up too much of your time already so lastly I'd like to thank a few people. First, Marc Peralta for introducing me to this whole deal. Nick Polini and Nate Pipenberg for really solidifying my interest with enthusiasm and skill, and being two of the best mentors/role models I could think to have in this crazy trip. The rest of the PSU club for being awesome and being there to kick with on a moments notice. And finally, all of the awesome people I've met over the last 9 months for being great people and so accepting of a newcomer.
Feel free to comment on my blog, this whole thing should be as much about community as it is about me.
Peace.
