Sports > September 4, 2008

By Lizzie Rosen | Senior writer

I like sports. More than liking sports though, I like being good at them. I relish being that girl that guys call when they need an extra person for football, but they actually want someone who can play. Throughout past intramural seasons I have had my fair share of success, including three championship T-shirts and several second place endeavors.

As a senior, I was satisfied overall with my sports performance at our fine university. All was going well on my quest to prepare for the elusive softball championship, until my focus was derailed via being stalked by the most frustrating sport ever.

What was instigating my frustration? A fricking Frisbee. Stalked is no overstatement people. These flying saucers are all over campus, on our quads and in our dorms; I can’t deal.

What’s my beef? I cannot for the life of me throw a Frisbee, seriously. I blame my father. And maybe sub-par third grade gym class.

Sure, I can throw a softball from outfield to home plate. Sure, I have the hands of a maven when playing wide receiver. And yeah, I can play a mean stopper in soccer.

Guess what? It doesn’t matter for a second because every time I set foot on the quad. Every, single, time I step out of Taylor House, I get one of those white disks thrown at my face. If it’s not white, its worse, one of those Free Qdoba disks from Taste of Winston-Salem. Hey Qdoba, I like Chipotle, back off.

I let the days before class pass me by avoiding the outdoors but alas, I cannot escape the Frisbee. Ruckus must be a cult of some sort spawning new disk-flingers every three hours (the rate at which I step outside).

I got lucky recently; I managed to go the entire day without seeing a Frisbee. Then I made a fatal mistake, I went to Hero House. On my way back I saw the largest gathering of Frisbees ever. Did you know Wake Forest is obsessed with Frisbee? Have I been too busy looking at Banshees posters instead of ducking for cover? I drove past Watertower fields and there they were, tons and tons of plastic disks. And get this, there were spectators, real people sitting on the hill watching people do this.

Despite my extreme lack of talent for Frisbee I must admit, I like the dedication I have been seeing. I like to run, and I know that not everyone rolls that way. What I do encourage however, is for everyone to get their game on. We all know that the gym is packed –– thank you over achieving freshmen –– but the Frisbee kids seem to be getting a decent workout, there were some cute boys and if you can chase leather balls, why not chase plastic disks? Nevertheless, I hope the Frisbee can understand that I am inept at this sport and henceforth they will kindly refrain from following me everywhere. In the meantime, maybe I can snag one to use as a tray at the Pit?