We were a happy-go-lucky team. A group of women who aggravated their captains and coach by not showing up for practices enough. Kids just catching the ultimate bug. We followed the "huck and play D" school of play (since, indeed, it was best suited to our talents). And then, surprisingly, we almost made it to Nationals in the Spring of 1997. I remember that day vividly—it was the day a team vision was born. We were all lying there after losing our second game-to-go, completely wiped out and stunned by our success and failure. Our dear coach James Sarvis suddenly sat up (he was as exhausted as the rest of us—a testament to what a great coach he is) and stated: "If we make it to Nationals next year, I'll wear a dress."

Fast forward one year (learn how to throw, learn how to throw, learn how to throw, practice junk D, learn how to throw, learn how to throw, practice junk D, recite the rules, learn how to throw, learn how to throw) and we were the same team (plus a few enthusiastic rookies), except with what might almost pass as the ability to throw (of course, there were our two handlers who had GREAT throws) and a good dose of ultimate-smarts courtesy. Plus, the dream and the VISION had been growing for an entire year. And although a good story does not always get the punchline it deserves, in this instance we did indeed ride off into the sunset, where we spent three days playing great ultimate under the supervision of JAMES IN A DRESS.