The SAG Awards

I was looking through some photos, and after having a good laugh or two, it dawned on me that our team's achievements and awkward moments should not only be documented, but rewarded, so I give you THE SAG (Super Awkward Girl) Awards.

In alphabetical order:

Best Cheer:
Ashley's mom: "Go Menace?"

Best Driver:
Probably a tie between me and MaryKim. You can have your pick, really. It's about whether you'd rather be in a car with all 4 wheels on the rumble strips/in a lane of oncoming traffic or in a car going 80mph-110mph in the rain.

Best Heckle:
Ok, so this isn't from our team (Because the only real heckles come from Spashley, and they are things like "Layout!" when the disc is either 20 feet in the air or 45 yards in front of the person, and "Fuck you, Hidaka!"/"Suck it, Hidaka!", accompanied with manic flashings of the middle finger.), but I watched Rabbit's film of the SW Open Regional finals, and Colorado B had some that just plain made me giggle. For example, "SUCK IT!" and "SUCK A DICK!" and "Are they ... are they even trying?" and "Back-door fi-nals!" and my personal favorite, "WHY DO YOU EVEN TRY?!"

They were just so obnoxious and awesomely bad, and went to show that no matter where you live, there are people with really bad senses of humor.

Oh wait, I had a pretty good heckle, but I guess only people from our team understood it: Splish splash splosh, and YOU'VE BEEN DOYLED!

Best Layout:
One sentence: "Mah back ... it's broke!" (Well uh, is it vertebrae ... ? It's spinal.)
MaryKim, congratulations. You inspire us with your fucking crazy ass, legs flailing about, hilarious face makin', back breakin' layouts.

Best New Nicknames:
Ashley: Smashley, Spashley, Chansy
Catherine: Catherine Doyle #1 on Da Streets
Joann: J.Wo, Jewann/JewBag/Jew-anything
Maggie: Margaret (me looking at my lease for next spring: "Who's Margaret?"), D-Leavy, Dunleavy, Dunfaggles
Meg: Hofner's Hardware
Tania: T-Bag

Cutest Opponent (no homo):
TIFFANY! Hands down. Good God, so cute.

Favorite Picture Pose:
It's a toss-up between this:

and this:
(the extreme close-up)





Either way, it's not good.

Greatest Lessons Learned:
Shady palm tree. Really shady palm tree.
Awkward starfish and awkward grasping/groping starfish.
Tossing and turning in sign language.
The cutest animals in the world in sign language.
And of course, awkward and really awkward in sign language.

Ohhh, Kim.

Heir Apparent to the "Chansy" Face Awards:
CLEARLY MaryKim. Do we have to discuss this?

(Hopeful) Heir Apparent to the MaryKim Award:
ME. I want this only slightly less than I want Nationals. I will do whatever it takes. I will kick my couch and break my toe. I will sleep on my couch for weeks straight. I will cut all my hair off and wear a green trucker hat. I will layout and flail my legs about and cleat myself repeatedly. I will eat two tacos, a calzone, 2lbs of chips and salsa, and a cheeseburger from Firehaus every Tuesday. I will sign up for free massages at the McKinley Foundation. I will drive on the wrong side of the road, believing it to be the left turn lane. I will refuse to switch drivers even if I am tired and driving on the rumble strips. I will shout at my friend Allison across the street when it is clearly a stranger. I will play flute for everyone while I am drunk on Unofficial. I will buy a UIC hoodie and wear it every minute of every day. I will get belligerent and get kicked out of Brother's, only to try to go back anyway. I will even try out for the University of Illinois' varsity soccer team for funsies and make the team. I WANT THIS AWARD, AND I WILL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES.

Most Environmentally Friendly:
Claire. She only eats one beast a day, and once paid $14 for gas but didn't pump any. Kudos, Claire.

Most Improved Asian:
Tania.
Tania knows how to speak yi diar zhong wen. She has a Pokemon cellphone charm (by the way, I just wanted to let you all know that "Pokemon" is a recognized word in blogger-English, because I didn't get that God dang squiggly red line under it when I typed it.), she likes red bean cakes, and she has really gotten better at the Asian face. Hell, the girl is going to suffer a month without Western-style bathrooms, democracy, and Taco Bell (!!!) to study in Beijing. Hen hao, Tania. Hen hao.

Most Popular Songs:
I think that Flo Rida song "Low" was pretty popular, but "Take You There" by Sean Kingston was put on the map single-handedly by Tania at Texas Throwdown. Honest to God, preceding every point, Tania was sure to sing, "Shaaawty I could take you there." Luckily we kept learning more lines to that song as the year wore on, so we were able to recite the entire chorus by the time Sectionals rolled around. I liked "Love Song" by Sara Bareilles a lot, but mostly because every other song on the Las Vegas radio waves was "Love Song", and also because I found it twice in a row on the radio while driving back to Spashley's house at Sectionals (while all of Team Asia was sitting in the front seat ... romantic!)

I also want to say that Mariah "Fucking Insane" Carey's "Touch My Body" is one of the most HILARIOUS songs I have heard in a long time. CLEARLY anyone who writes/sings this line: "cause if you run your mouth and brag about this secret rendezvous, I will hunt you down" is a fucking nutcase. She is honestly insane. She's going to get a tribal tattoo on her face soon, a la Mike Tyson, I have money on it.

Most Quoted Movie:
"The Darjeeling Limited" (Look at these assholes ...), "Juno", "SuperBad"

Honorable Mention: "Slingblade" -- We never actually really quoted anything that happened in the movie, but we did talk about it all the time because Claire watched this movie at The McKinley Foundation instead of studying with Team Asia, and cried. And then told us about it, which was a bad idea because since then we have mercilessly made fun of her for that.

Most Referenced Viral Video:
Nick Swardson's "Smokin' Weed" had a very, very strong run following Goose's recommendation at Wendy's post-Texas Throwdown, even sparking a Meg Hofner Instant Classic: "I smoke crack all day!" But Chansy's endorsement, Mike Tyson Being Fucking Hilarious is really giving that video a big run for its money. For its sheer absurdity and gut-splitting quips from the one and only MIKE TYSON, will I have to award this to Mikey T. I mean honestly? The man is a bizarre individual.

Honorable Mention: We never really "referenced" this video, but we sure watched it a lot -- the one where the kid gets hit with a basketball in the head -- good God, SO FUNNY.

Most Unfortunate:
Did you have to ask?

Let's discuss this.

The tournament is CHC, the team is Lord Remembers Who. Someone steps on my foot as I am pivoting, and I feel something pull in my groin. It is painful. I am taken to the trainer's tent with Melissa, who has just gotten a sick nasty at least hip-high layout D in her first tournament ever. As we arrive to the tent, the trainer asks me where the pain is. I pause for a moment and say, in my groin. She looks at me and tentatively asks if she can feel around. I say yes. She ends up massaging me awkwardly while I try to look away, shamefully. She tells me to hold the ice against my crotch as I walk back to my field and when I am out of the game. I look like a 12 year old boy that has just gotten kicked in the 'nads. She then tells me that when I am not playing, I need to be massaging my groin to keep it warm. She showed me how. I walked back in shame. I got to third with a trainer. She doesn't even know my name. God.

The tournament is Glory Days. The team, Purdue. It is one week after the marathon, and my body is still unbelievably sore. I am on the mark, and my girl makes a hard forehand fake, but does not pull back soon enough. The disc hits me full on in the center of my knee. I completely stop stalling to scream "OW!" and literally do not even try to run anymore the rest of the point.

The tournament is the same, the team, Wisconsin Y. A throw goes up but a pick is called, realizing this, I keep chasing after the disc, which is now going out of the corner of the endzone. Someone from my team has also had the presence of mind to follow the disc too, and somehow gets their body under mine as I go up and catch the disc. On my way down, I encounter this body, and somehow fall backwards onto my head. I lay there in defeat. Sad day.

The situation is Tuesday night throwing in the Armory. I am throwing with Kristi, by the pole vault mat. Mary and Tania are practicing hammers parallel to us. Mary is at least 40 feet away from me. She throws a hammer that veers away from its intended target (Tania), and instead hits me straight in the shin. SHIN SHOT. Thanks, Kim.

Same situation, different night. Dunfaggles, Spashley, and I are off to the side, fucking around, as we always do. We decide that it would be fun/hilarious to begin practicing Greatests. Smashley goes up for a greatest, and instead of throwing something remotely catchable by me, she sends a laser into my temple. I am the obvious loser of this game.

The tournament is Trouble in Vegas, the team is Stanford B. During our morning warm-up, we discovered that our field was actually a rock quarry, so we made it a team warm-up activity to walk through the field and pick up all the rocks. We decided that the best place to put these rocks was in the space between our endzone and the endzone adjacent to ours. It is now a more concentrated quarry. I am in the game later on. I am going long, and the disc is veering right. Not paying attention to where I was, I jumped up and caught the disc, falling in the endzone ... of the other field. I have landed hip-first into the Quarry of Doom. Let's just say my girl got open on me more times than she should have that point.

The situation is post-Vegas. After quickly receiving our asses on a purple platter from Washington, we grabbed our shit from the sidelines and RAN to our cars in the parking lot. There, Jayne and Kelly and I (sitting bitch, of course) bumped sweaty thighs in the backseat of the convert (of which is only supposed to seat two) while I tried hard to shield my eyes from all the possible deaths we could have died on the way to the car return place. After returning the car, we raced to get in line for a shuttle, and after being put in the first line, we thought we would get to the airport first. No, our teammates who showed up five minutes after us and are a good twenty to thirty people behind us in line get to board the shuttles to the terminals first. Janky move. When we get there, we have literal minutes before they stop giving out tickets. I am somehow last in line, Jen is second to last. She has just sprained her ankle, I am wearing slides. We are not the most mobile of people. Of course our team goes with the "Every man for himself" strategy. As the ticket agent hurriedly places my ticket in the ticket folder and begins to hand it to me, she stops, looks me right in the eye, and says, "I need you to get to that plane, now." A rush surges through me, and I feel like I am in some poorly made, poorly received, big budget Michael Bay movie, where I'm running through a store and as I pass each aisle, it blows up behind me. Finally, I jump out the grocery store window and the whole damn thing explodes while I roll around in my heroic sweat and blood, looking all epic and shit. Anyway, I take off my slides, put them in my bag, and pray to God that my little feet will take me to where I needed to be as swiftly as possible. So there Jen and I were, tearing through McCarran Airport, the gimp and the tiny shoeless Asian gremlin, my roommate's big fuckin' softball duffel bag squeaking like hell as it hung from my neck. I almost run over at least seven small children, ten frail old people, and one fucking petrified old guy in a wheelchair. We finally get to security, tired and sweaty, and of course, I GET CHECKED. Everyone is leaving to get on the tram to the terminals, and the TSA agent searching me is taking her sweet time, examining every little thing in my bag. Finally, she gets to my nail clipper and says, "Oh, it's a nail clipper!" I give her a weak "ha ha" look, and Jen walks by me, saying that they wouldn't leave me behind. It was all very Titanic-esque, I promise. So the TSA agent slowly places everything back in my bag and wishes me a safe trip. I tear off and scream thank you, and just as I approached the tram, the doors close. I dive the fuck in the last car, and there is my team. WHEW. This is not the end of this story. We finally get on the plane, and I discover that we are scattered all over the place. I get to my seat, which is thankfully by Team Asia, and discover that I have bitch. Not a big issue, I had bitch the whole way to Vegas. So as I'm about to put my bookbag down in the middle seat, the guy in the aisle asks me if I want to sit window seat. I look over and there's a woman sitting there, and I thought it was totally odd that he would offer me a seat that was already taken by someone other than him. I said no thanks, and he pointed to the woman and said, "That's my wife." Not thinking, I was like, oh that's nice, but then I realized that the two of them wanted to sit next to each other. So I say, look, I'm claustrophobic, I can't sit window, but I'd gladly trade aisle seats with you. To this, he gave a dismayed looked and said, oh, well I guess I'll get out of the way for you. I sit bitch between a married couple the whole way back to Indy. It is awkward. They constantly reach over me and talk to each other as I sleep, probably with my mouth wide open and emitting a constant flow of saliva. I am also bleeding and sweaty and probably very offensive smelling. They do not decide to give in to my demands. I am shameless in my couple-splitting ways. I don't give a fuck.

And I shit you not. All of that was true.

The tournament is Roll Call, the team is American University. I tripped on my own feet/tripped in a divot on an attempted layout bid, resulting in skull to ground contact with a swiffness. Same tournament, different team (Maryland). I am guarding a deep threat, and the moment the disc is turned, she springs deep. Without looking, I turn around to run with her, and the first thing I see is a bicep/forearm full of Jen. BAM! One swift face to arm clothesline and I'm down for the count, blind out of my left eye and bleeding from the nose. Along with severe whiplash and migraine headaches that did not leave me for another two weeks, I felt stupid about it for a really long time.

The tournament is Regionals, the team is Michigan. I am popping in our zone offense, and seeing a gap in the cup, I decide to crash. I do, but do not get the disc, so I turn around to pop back out, and turn face-first into an arm full of Surge. Deja vous! Just as this happens, the disc is turned, my girl is busting deep, and I am holding my face, searching frantically for her. She probably scored on me, I don't remember because I didn't get a good look at her. That would happen to me.

In none of these unfortunate instances did anything glorious happen. I was only looking stupid/doing stupid shit. Kudos, self.

New Best Friend:
Maggie Moo. I have this friend, named Maggie Moo ...

Newest Vocabulary Additions:
adding -sies to the ends of words, i.e. for suresies, for funsies, etc.
janky
no homo
shameless
...
I can't remember anymore. Sad day.

Tallest:
Kelly.
Take for example, our semis game against UChicago at Regionals. Kelly is 1, I'm 2. Meg is bringing the disc up to the endzone line. As our defenders match up, Kelly's defender takes one look at her and says, "My girl is dramatically taller than me." So our defenders switch. The situation really is not any better. Kelly's new defender looks at her and has this look of sheer dread on her face. PWNT.

Warmest Place:
My pants. Let us examine:


(Those are Alexis' gloves on my shoulder. She asked me to hold them for her, and I had the presence of mind to take them off before I shoved my hands in my pants. Be grateful.)




Well, that's all for now. I hope that entertained you for a bit. School is dunzo so I don't have that to complain about anymore, but my room currently looks like a disaster area, so after I get that cleaned and after Mother's Day festivities, I'll have my Natties seedings up (not that they mean anything, really), I swearsies.