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I love Footbag - The Sick 3 of 2003
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I love Footbag - The Sick 3 of 2003
Whats Up Everybody!
 So here is my summer installment of ramblings, adventures, and bullshit. I added a lot of new people to this list recently....most of you I met in either Frankfurt or Prague this summer playing footbag. If you don't want this shit sent to you, just let me know and I will remove you from the list. If you don't remember who the hell I am...please visit my website at:
http://theimpax.vze.com
click on photo album and you should be reminded....
Also you can find there some back issues of my mass emails with plenty of crap for anybody.
And for you new members, this is my website full of my photos and other random shit including the official 4 square footbag rules, some songs I produced, and an online version of the word game boggle that you are welcome to join.
Sooo...the sick 3 of 2003...that would be FOOTBAG and that would include European championships in Frankfurt, followed by World Championships in Prague, and finally the first ever footbag camp in Povljana, Croatia.
Oh yeah....this is going to be VERY long....
The Prelude to the sick 3 of 03:
I was to take a train from Milano, Italy to Frankfurt...but due to some ass at the ticket window, I missed it and had to wait 24 hours. Milano is not the most beautiful city...and the train station didnt feel like a good choice for a sleep with its roaming gangs of 'special' looking men and it's lovely wasteland smell. So I hoped the train to Como, the next stop along the way to frankfurt. After a nice sleep I woke at up to see the words 'Como' travelling in a direction away from me out the window... shit ... so I exit the train in Chiasso and see 'Passport Control' ... shit... not only did I miss my stop, I missed my country, I was now in Switzerland. But no probalem...nobody even bothered to ask for mz passport. OK, Ill just find somewhere to sleep, head back to Como in the morning then catch my train to frankfurt. Then I meet Simon...a guy looking a bit like me...and ask what his plans were. He said he was looking for a place to sleep until he caught his train the next day...hmmm that sounds familiar, lets hang out...we ended up staying up the whole night having the life, universe, and everything conversation...very cool. In the AM we parted and I approached the the train to Como I was asked to go through passport control...no problem...6 guys dressed in uniform, smoking, talking bullshit...they dont even look at me. So then its back to Italy...then on the train...back to switzerland...then finally gremany. Why is this so special?...This whole time I didnt have my passport...I *thought* I had my passport...but a few days later I get an email from Geaton who I had been on the road with...
"hey dude...I have your passport...and I think (I hope) you have mine"
Wooooaaah! Someone was wacthing over me....and...they didnt stop there...
European championships, 2003, Frankfurt, Germany:
 The beginning. First off, I must introduce Mr. Fred Touzelet. My extreme travelling and party partner from Paris. Fred enters the scene very drunk and doing some things that only the Fins would appreciate. Beginning with day 2 of this tournament we spent practically every night together talking some big bullshit, helping the masses to laugh themselves shitless and consume their share of beer.
I arrived a few days early for the tournament...had some warm up with the locals and wathced the excitement build as players from all over the world arrived. I got myself a net partner and signed up to play net for my first time ever. This was fun but playing net in the hot sun after 2 hours of sleep and with only some very dim light inside my head proved to be a difficult experience.
Then we watched some pretty insane footbag freestyle....we see a clownface and a nemesis from sunil...we see beast combos from vasek, we see ahren german with a beer in his hand always. We heard some kickass freestyle rapping from the man Matt Baker (so good that when vasek was shredding right in front of matt....the crowd was wacthing matt and not the world champion). We saw some really insane fire swinging (batons, poy, fire-breathing) from the Danes. The loudest thing from this weekend: someone burped so loud it caused a net players PT and Johnny to stop mid game start laughing.
And did I mention it was HOT! Fuck yeah it was hot...so hot that the pinnacle of each day was when the sprinklers were turned on to water down the fake turf...hallilulah! It is nice to see what people wear at this temperature.
As tradition with any tournament, it all ends with an after party of grand proportions...nobody needs to sleep or 'take it easy' becuase of competition the next day (A discipline I have yet to perfect.. "Tonight...I WILL GO TO SLEEP EARLY! yeah right) So I helped the organizers with a few important tasks...namely picking up 10 cases of beer, packing up the sound equipment, and bringing the pair to the corner of the Grunenberg park for a little party in a quite section of town. We had a good 3 hours before the cops came... but we had some serious dancing and even after the music stopped we raged on...
After the after-after party, and the after-after-after party...basically a few days of shred all day, laugh all night, Fred and I took the bus to Prague...getting off the bus drunk and stoned we were prepared for sick trick number two...
The World Championships, 2003, Prague, Czech Republic:
 Our first night we were welcomed by the world champion himself to his home town like kings in the Punta...this is like you are walking down the street, turn left and walk down some stairs that look to be leading into somones basement....and then BOOM! Music and lots of Staropromen on tap. These boys dont quit early and roll by the minute.
We stayed at the Hostel Strahov which was a long way from the tournament site...this was shit...but the transportation in Prague is on time and easy to understand, so no problem. Lets have a look at the tournament site...hmmm, right next to a large swimming pool, cold beer on tap, every night there is a planned party...ok lets do this.
So the first few nights I tried to take it easy (and failed) ... I competed in both freestyle and net events. Competition went well for me I hit a semi fimal routine that I walked off the stage feeling very satisfied. My net games went well, it was first time competing singles net...I always gave my oponents a tough game....but rarely won. But competition is always a win-win situation...Winning is well...winning, and loosing means no more responsibilities...
The gaurdian angel returns...outside the club xt3 we are having some fun and getting ready to leave...I decide to follow the germans who are staying at a different hostel than I am, but oh well, i am already here a few nights and understand the night metro system well. After an hour the group im with decides to take a taxi home...I say goodbye and head for the tram stop. A car on the opposite side of the street does a 180, pulls up next to me and rolls down the window. They say I should get in because they are going to take me to my friends. I figured they were part of the Czech footbag crew so I hope in the backseat. 2 blocks later I realize I dont have a clue about these guys. Im pretty drunk...but still thinking (luckily)...I ask "Are you guys competing in the tournament?" They are confused. I ask if they know which tram goes to the Strahov Hostel. They tell me I need to take Tram number 2. Bullshit...the only tram that goes there is the 57, on top of that all the trams at night are numbered above 50. At a red light I saw...I need to get out here, this is where my tram stop is...they say...no no just come up here, we will take you to the right tram stop. Next red light I open the door, get out, and start walking away from the car...they drive off...I recognize were I am becuase I right next to the Vlatva River...I walk 100 meters north...see the Tram 57...run after it for 2 blocks, get on and what do I see, but some 50 of the other footbag players I was with at the xt3 club....not bad
Phewww...thank you again...someone or something.
 The Absinth night... Absinth is legal and readily found in the Czech Republic unlike most of the rest of the world. Yes it is alchohol...This shit is different though...and this was a different night. We took over the top floor of the Akkropolis with doubles four square. Myself and Max from Berlin took a game. Of course there was dancing...if thats what it was called. Then there was the trip home. After getting outside I dont remember anything until the moment I woke up on Tram number 22. The good news...well Tram 22 was the tram I needed to be on to return to the Strahov (the day tram...i skipped right over night). The bad news...it was the end of the line. So I get off, catch the 22 going the other way...fall asleep awake up on the other side of Prague...end of the line. Shit...Ok lets try again....ooops end of the line. OK one more baby...this time I fall asleep then wake up at Malovanka...the exact stop I needed...I managed to get to bed at noon.
EAch day, The tournament site continued to be full of great footbag action, I trained with lots of great players from all over...met loads of new friends. Each night the parties got wilder and longer. On numerous occasions Mr. Fred Touzelet and myself had to be creative in finding new ways to keep the beer supply available as we stayed awake passed closing times. No problem for us professionals...make an announcement...collect some money...find a hostel, work some magic,...carry them back and receive the applause. When worlds finally finished, I managed to take one night off...and only partly. I stayed for a few days with a really great guy living in Prague, Vojta Polak...Also a fucking great fotbag player (I dont know what it is about these Czech players...) I had a few more nights in prague. Including...
The classy night...I didnt have my clothes with me and our plans for the evening required some style...so Fred dresssed me up in his Fire red pants and button up black shirt. Jacob from Berlin joined us for a night downtown breaking down casinos and filming beer tastings. We started off with a round footbag golf down into the metro and back out. In between checking out a casino that suited us we sat down and filmed ourselves scrutinizing 5 different czech beers. Finally we sat down and stuffed some money in a machine. I never knew slot machines could be so fun...huge high fives every time we hit the cherrys. We managed to play for about 4 hours on 300 crowns (10 bucks). And the winner of the beer tasting...beating second place Budwa (the original budwieser) which scored 8.5 was Pislner Urquell...with 9.5 The looser went to Staropromen Granat with 4 and 5 scores.
On our last night we headed back to the punta...and sitting down we came up with a new goal...in Croatia we would find 100 lovely woman to smile at the camera, hold out a footbag and say "I love footbag" we gave it a shot in the bar and managed 8 girls to do their part for us. And this would be the warm up for...
The First Annual Footbag Camp, 2003, Povljana, Croatia
It was appoximatley 22 hours on the bus from Prague to Povljana...I dont know about you but if I am going to spend this much time on a bus...I want to either sleep or get fucked up...but sleeping for 22 hours is difficult unless your on drugs...so the choice was easy...get some pivo and smoke as many joints as possible before crossing the border into a country that takes this drug pretty seriously. At the bus stops we squeezed a few more "I love footbag"s but the people here werent drunk so it was more tough than the night before...
Finally We arrived into a place which in the previous week had been up to and over 40 degrees (104 F) And was full of forest fires. I ran to the Adriatic sea and had a swim first off. We setup our tents, checked out the local scene. Plenty of little shops, cafes, and bars. The first night we started by merging our dinner tables together, lighting the candles and pumping the music. We had a small round of Silent football with a a few close to me. Soon after we were by the sea...swimming and howling in the moon light...the third round for the night was over to the Neptun...the indoor and outdoor bar that was right next to our camp. We were all pretty drunk and acting like shitheads. We did some dancing and in between I helped in the stealing of many beers from the coolers that were outside the bar area. Apparently I was harrased by one of the bartenders...but I dont remeber this.
The next day after a very SLOW day, Including a nice scooter ride to the larger town of Pag....I went over to the Neptun and heard Mr. Fred in the bar talking with the owners. I heard them talking about me and pointing at me...I went over to apologize for being a dumbfuck the night before and talked with for a while...it was almost instantly that they offered me a beer and explained that the next evening there would be live music and a big party at the Neptun. We exchanged thanks with the promise of a footbag demo to be perfomed by the majority of our group.... And this was a match made in heaven .... A footbag camp next A bar wearing a sign stating that it closes at 4 in the morning with owners who liked footbaggers. (And it never once closed before 6)
That night we had located a lighted spot perfect for shredding...right next to 3 bars. (It didnt take long to meet the workers and owners here either) We were followed (slowly) by our new shadow and footbag groupy quickly dubbed "Slow Motion." Slo-mo was special becuase she tried hard...very hard to be part of our party night after night...but the problem was...well she was just too slow. We would spot her approaching then 10 minutes later she would arrive...10 more minutes to sit, and another 10 to say hello...needless to say it was only a matter of time before the word "slomo" was uttered with great laughter. To her credit she did hit a toe stall that night after some training...but it took a long...long time. This night was filled with some serious shredding...a doubles four square game won by myself and the lovely Hanna from Vienna, and of course more dancing and swimming.
We learned something from slo-mo though...whats the point of rushing...and we heeded this point very well in the hot hot sun of the day. We sat at a cafe...drinking coffee and congiac...wasting the day away. This night was to be a good one though...we had arrange to perform a demo for the Neptun...it was a hit, the crowd gathered and lost their minds...a perfect setup for more "I love footbag" but afterwards we got an "I love footbag" that will make the history books of the sport...I asked the the resident singer for the bar if she would say it for the camera...and she did...for 3 minutes she sang the first official footbag anthem
"I love foot bag, I love footbag, footbag is the best, footbag is the best! ..."
look for an mp3 to download from my website soon.
we then proceeded to walk around the bar and convince every single woman (except one.. that bitch) at the bar to happily share their thoughts for the camera. And then we danced like shitheads and partied till the morning was young.
 So the week was not over...the next day was the qualifying round of the official croatian footbag camp 4 square tournament...organized by myself and Johanna. We still had a few more Neptun sessions...Slo-Mo was definitley in the house (wait for the video...) ...some air guitar contests...some licking your own nipple contests. and the last night...4 Square finals (won by Vasek and Vypal) Back to the church for the most ripping run contest (The only one to have a run longer than Vasek was me....but I was only doing toe stalls and circling around the world champ :) and then back to Neptun the the drinking contest...the century club. 100 35ml shots of beer in 100 minutes...one per minute. some people made it to 50.... second place to Vasek with 78 and the winner was me....sorry to those who I puked on... and for the first time since the sick 3-03 began...I was carried home...something I have done for others on numerous occasions...
And then the end...another long journey on the bus...including bus freestyle...a birthday party for Akos...pillow signing and we say our goodbyes...and we will do it again next year....
So thats the end.
Now I am in Hungary spending a week with Mr. G himself, a huge promoter of the sport of footbag here in Hungary and a great guy. The summer rolls on and footbag is the best.
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242667 vistors since the 1st of May, 2003
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Tuesday, January 06, 2009
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