Two days ago was the last day of my Friday co-op's autumn semester. Prior to the last meeting, my gym class would focus on one sport or game for two classes and then switch to the next sport or game; today, however, was an odd day out, so the members of the gym class voted to play Ultimate Frisbee.

Gym had already held two classes on Ultimate Frisbee. During the first class we had learned frisbee throwing and catching techniques; during the second class we had played a game. My team hadn't done well with short passing, often belting long passes half the length of the court only to have the frisbee hit the ground or be intercepted.

My team for this past Friday's class was far better. We didn't have the same players, which probably played a role in our short passing techniques (we once handed the frisbee to each other -- literally -- to score a goal), but we had not taken all the "good players"; the other team was doing just as well.

Previously, I had been only okay; I hadn't been the best at passing or catching, and if I recall correctly I had fumbled a few passes I should have caught. My younger brother, who is also in the gym class, hadn't many occasions to even try to catch the frisbee.

But this past Friday? My younger brother scored one goal and caught at least a few other passes. I did very well: My passing was definitely more accurate than before, and I caught the frisbee for at least three goals, maybe four. One goal I remember most featured the passed frisbee bouncing off the backboard; I was in the goal zone, so I ran for the frisbee and slid onto my knees to catch it right before it hit the ground.

Now, I wasn't alone in such a catch. The church in which co-op is held has a wooden outcropping that supports a balcony to the right of the gym; a few passes bounced off that wall during the game, and one resulted in a similar slide-onto-knees last-minute catch by a teammate of mine.

Really, our whole team was doing very well; I felt like I was a part of some well-oiled passing and catching machine. I guess that's what real teamwork feels like.

By the time our teacher called for a water break, the score was tied, seven-seven; my team had been up seven-five, but the other team had come back with two consecutive goals. Our teacher asked if we wanted to switch to another sport or play Ultimate Frisbee until the next goal. As a class we chose the latter.

Because the other team had last scored a goal, they "kicked off" (A.K.A. threw the frisbee along the court to my waiting team). Through a series of short, quick passes, we made our way down the basketball court. I moved into the goal zone, uncovered, and received an easy pass for the final goal of the game.

Now, in basketball, my team didn't do quite as well. I'm rather out-of-practice: Though I can dribble well (and finally put the ball between my legs a few times without the ball bouncing off one of my feet), I'm not very good at shooting. I made two lay-ups, but my team only finished with four shots compared to the other team's eight. Oh well. At least I actually made a shot this time, and my team and I did pass the ball well for the most part.

* * *

In other news, laryngitis is a bother. A little while after my return from co-op, my throat started feeling odd. Eventually my voice became raspy enough and my throat sore enough that I decided to speak in whispers to save my voice.

Today I'm feeling better (though I'm still saving my voice for tomorrow's co-op meeting), but my laryngitis persisted enough yesterday that I missed a Boy Scout event at which I could have gotten a good few Second Class requirements signed off. Oi.