I just finished reading an alarming article in National Geographic about how Saratoga Springs has been in the grips of a crisis at the root of which is an overabundance of Pteromyini--or the 'Green Mountain Flying Squirrel'. Apparantly the community is more or less fully recovered from the endangerment. The group of Skidmore College students who initially brought the overactive population of invasives into the area are being addressed by authorities.
Even though the invasion was shortlived, the impact left by our Ultimate Frisbee team, the Flying Squirrels, is sure to linger with all those who experienced their tenacity--and ability to glide through upper-aboreal ecosystems with their kite-like appendages.
While we pride ourselves on our good spiritedness and congeniality, we are also a progressive team that subscribes to an equal opportunity sense of play. That is perhaps why you can see captain Alex Ziko fully engaged in a bone-compromising play with a thirty-some year old woman from I forget which school's alumni team. Go Alex.
You can be sure that the entire day would have made ESPN's highlights if their camera crew hadn't been caught in traffic, but in the name of brevity I'll give you just a few shots of what the squirrels--with just one sub--did on this fateful sunburn-inducing day amongst the perpetual armies of Spartan ultimate players from the other schools.
For the sake of conversation, we'll say that this picture has captured the moment in which the Squirrels successfully pulled off our super secret play against what I would argue was the most talented team on the pitch that day: Skidmore's alumni. For proprietary reasons I can't reveal exactly what the play entailed, but they sure looked silly at the end of it. Good job everyone!
That point left us with a total score of 1-10 (they were up) at the initial game point. Just when they thought everything was in the bag, they were so bold as to volunteer the next point that was concluded with a diving catch would win it all. The next time you see him, congratulate Rick Kuenhast for making that fateful catch, adding an exclamation point to the Pteromyini invasion.
I could go on, but as I am subtly fixated on becoming the embodiment of laconism, here is a picture of the red clover that has grown from underneath the buddha idol in my wheatgrass pot.
Love life.