The Final Post in which the Blog is Concluded and the Identities of Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate are Truely Revealed

This post will lead you to the true ending of SeriousUltimate and the faithful identities of Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate.

(But if you ask us tomorrow, we will vigorously deny it. This is the only admission we will ever make.)

How do you want SeriousUltimate to end? Choose the true ending:

Ending #1
Ending #2
Ending #3
Ending #4
Ending #5
Ending #6
Ending #7

Practice on the beach!

Everyday Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate wake up at 7am and call each other while we're still in bed to talk about ultimate, crushing our opponents, and any new drills we've thought of while we were sleeping. Then we drink two raw eggs, two scoops of GNC Crea-Drive, and head to the gym to get in an ultimate-specific resistance band workout. Afterwards, we ingest fourty three ultimate-specific supplements pills and powders, and have an hour post-workout IV drip, all before going to work where we make so much fucking money we don't know what to do with it.

Because Mr Serious and Mr Ultimare are a coveted ultimate quantity on just about every team between Palwaukee and South Bend, we are on many local ultimate listservs. This means we get lots of emails about pick up ultimate. Mr Ultimate is currently developing a filtering device to block, delete, erase the metadata of any emails containing the terms "pick up," "fun," "beach," or "hey everybody."

Orders of magnitude less
frustrating than pickup

Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate have often wondered at what juncture someone must have arrived in their life to play pick up ultimate. What kind of person could take pleasure in a game that makes them shittier at ultimate, is not a workout unless you are 30 lbs overweight and smoke 3 packs a day, and makes them resent humanity in all its forms. The utter purposelessness, wastefulness and insipidness of pick up ultimate has more than once led Mr Ultimate to conclude that people who play pick up ultimate think they will live forever. There is no way to conceive of an activity more frivolas, heart wrenching and soul crushing than pick up ultimate.

He might get a workout from pickup

Unless it in beach pickup ultimate. Which raises a question of distinction very vexing to Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate: what is the difference between playing beach pickup, and just going to LA Tan?

And yet, as mind-boggling as it is that some ultimate players choose to play pickup on the beach, it is still more stupifying that some teams actually hold practice on the beach. Practice.

Beach practice gets intense.

How can you have practice on the beach? That is like holding a conditioning session on a jungle gym. "Practice" and "The Beach" are two diametrically opposed concepts. Look:

Practice: organization, teamwork, effort, work, sweat, dedication, strategy, focus, competition, exactitude.

The Beach: laziness, lassitude, napping, relaxation, recreation, dogs, bar-b-q's, sand in everything, grandma, children, Capri Sun, sandcastles, People Magazine blown away by the wind.

What kind of team would practice on the beach? What kind of carny team goals could your team possibly have, if you hold practice on the beach? Only if your idea of a workout was emitting one single drop of salty sweat from your morbidy obese frame; only if your idea of competition involves 25 bacon cheese Slyders;

Nameless Chicago team that dropped 4 seeds
at Nats and practices on the beach: you
aren't even close to this achievement

only if your idea of achievement was not to pass out and loose control of your bowels could you possibly rationalize practicing on the beach. In the entire history of sport there has only been one instance of training on the beach at at an extraordinary level of seriousness and accomplishment, and Mr Ultimate seriously doubts that any Chicago team who will remain nameless could replicate this achievement. Perhaps, given the team's roster, the beach was simply an inevitable end.

Mr Serious would rather practice barefoot on un-reclaimed brownfields that practice on the beach. Mr Ultimate would rather practice on the surface of the sun than practice on the beach. There is no way to conceive of an activity more stupid, metaphysically pointless and emotionally disembowling than practicing on the beach.

Unless it is a tournament on the beach. What the sport of ultimate really needs is a venue to showcase people playing ultimate barefoot, on the beach, on mini-fields, co-ed, in skirts and sundry retarded outfits, dogs barking, KISS FM blasting, players stopping the game to pick up pieces of glass bottles, Mr Ultimate puking. Thanks Sandblast. Now the wider world can know and love ultimate. Something tells me you're not playing serious ultimate if this team makes semis. I couldn't make this shit up. If I could, I would be rich. But I can't. And it was at Sandblast 2005 that Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate met our most deadly, most reviled nemesis. No, not the player in dreadlocks and a skirt (though we do wish a medium severity car crash on him), but the Serious Beach Ultimate Player: technical fabric breach ultimate team jersey, beach athletic socks, running a drill before his co-ed beach ultimate game. Do not for a second confuse Serious Beach Ultimate Player with serious ultimate. The only thing he is serious about is being a douche face. Serious Beach Ultimate Player is the clown version of Mr Serious and--like Serious Summer League Player--he must be utterly destroyed.

Announcing launch of our new site!!

What with the surging popularity of SeriousUltimate, our newly bestowed laurals as the #1 Ultimate Blog in Chicago (Time Out Chicago, October 06) and the fading to irrelevance of all other Chicago ultimate blogs, a change of venue has loomed larger and larger on our Horizen.

SeriousUltimate receives the #1
Ultimate Blog In Chicago award
from Time Out Chicago

Now, the sheer volume of readers of SeriousUltimate has forced us to acknowledge our complete success, and relocate to a bigger, more expansive site more befitting the explosive and meteoric nature of our immense popularity. Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate are proud to announce that SeriousUltimate has aquired our own domain to host our blog, which will amply accomidate the tidalwaves of new and old readers that visit our blog daily. In addition, our exciting new site will allow us to expand the focus and features of SeriousUltimate. Beyond hosting our dynamic new-look blog, the new site will now offer these exciting new features:

Blog Back--Have a lot to say about the adventures of Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate? Blog Back will allow you to start your own blog about our blog, hosted on our new site. Blog us back playa!

Newz and Notez--Come read about parties, nights out, pickup, gossip and musings from the Serious Ultimate world in this new and exciting feature. The regular SeriousUltimate blog already covers this stuff 100%, absolutely, completely and exhaustively, but this will be in a new seciton!

On your mobile phone!

Mobile Playas--This feature will allow you to sign up to receive updates on the Serious Ultimate lifestyle on your mobile phone! Does life get more purposeful and exciting!?

SU Forum--An exciting open space where Serious peeps can connect and discuss Serious Ultimate goings and doings.

Chat it up--An exciting participant venue where Serious brothers and sisters can meet and chat about Serious Ultimate flows and flavors.

Serious Playas--An exciting interactive feature where Serious playas can get together and talk about Serious Ultimate happenings and happenstance.

Here it is: WWW.SERIOUSULTIMATE.COM!!!

Mr Serious' sartorial suggestions to self-styled serious ultimate players

Last night at around 11, Mr Ultimate returned home from an ultimate-specific visualization session in a sensory deprevation chamber. Mr Ultimate believes that confidence and visualization are integral parts of tournament preperation, and thus spent two hours in complete blackness, visualizing myself in various spiking scenarios in the UPA Club Finals.

At home, I noticed that I had several unsent emails saved in my Drafts folder, which I have been meaning to send but haven't for lack of the person's email address. So I've decided to send these overdue sartorial sentiments as open notes, to the adressees listed as follows.

To the summer league all star: congratulations on your Under Armour compression shorts, Under Armour jersey, Under Armour shorts, Under Armour socks, Under Armour headband and Under Armour wristband. You still fucking blow. Is it Halloween already? because you have a fucking sweet Ultimate Player costume.

What's the score ultimate visor?

The ultimate player wearing an ultimate visor: Welcome to 1999. Your rec ultimate future is so bright you have to shade your eyes. Do you play ultimate or golf, because you train like a golfer.

This is an ultimate game, not
Total Request Live, prick bag.

The ultimate player rocking your hat sideways or askew: you better be able to drop a 80 yard forehand on a dime, because you're the biggest douchebag on the field.

Gearing up for the Fall
season at Kincaid's.

The ultimate player sporting "ultimate wear" in a non-ultimate setting: Hey dude, I see you've decided to wear your Gaia visor, VC warm up jacket, and Five Ultimate t-shirt to Grand Central. You must be really serious about ultimate. Too bad you haven't seen the inside of a gym in 2 years. Some people train for ultimate, you just buy gear. How's your Fall league team doing?

Nice capri tights, tardo.

The ultimate player sporting capri tights: There's nothing wrong with spandex tights in cold weather--they allow increased freedom of motion over track pants. That's seriously functional. But what's the point of tights that only come down to mid-calf? Did you wake up in the morning and say, Mm, it's going to be too cold for compression shorts, but too warm for full length tights. I'll go with my Old Navy capri tights! I hope that extra 10 inches of breathability is worth looking like a flaming tard.

The ultimate player wearing a skirt: Who gave you the green light to make life decisions? Was it supportive parents? Encouraging teachers? A liberal arts college? Well they fucked up. You should be sequestered until you recognize:
a) The difference between being in public and being in your own little world where you are awesome.
b) That you are not the only person in the world.
c) That your actions have consequences for other people.

Serious Ultimate goes to Regionals

Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate recently enjoyed a glorious weekend in Naperville, attending one of our favorite kinds of tournaments: an elimination tournament. Sure, Nationals gives Mr Serious a boner the size of a rocket booster. Yet at the conclusion of Nationals, every team's season is over, whether you finish 1st or 16th. But at Regionals, a few select teams move forward, while all the teams that have been half-assing it, taking shortcuts and makes excuses will have their hopes and dreams trampled, spit on and raped. Thus it was with great anticipation that Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate arrived at the TD's tent Saturday morning, ready to watch spirits crushed in the Open Division, the Women's Division, and those other divisions whatever they are.

Finally, Chicago will return to the national ultimate scene, sending three teams to Nationals this year. That's right, Machine, Nemesis and Real Huck will be representing Chicago in Sarasota. Just Machine, Nemesis, and Real Huck. No other team from Chicago, as far as Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate know, are going to Nationals.

Machine, how could you lose
to this guy in Semis?

Mr Serious saw Nemesis narrowly edge Bait to win the region in dramatic fashion. Well done ladies. Meanwhile, Mr Ultimate watched Machine lost to BAT 15-13 or so in very unserious fashion. Come on boys.

Madcow's starting O line celebrates after a victory.
Machine couldn't stop these guys?

How can you lose to a team that features two dudes with pony tails, three dudes with man tits, and one dude with both.For a moment I thought Machine had been demoted to the co-ed division, but it was just Gelo. We hoped to see Machine bounce back, but then they collapsed against Madcow and were banished to the third place bracket. Mr Ultimate went to CVS at halftime of this game and bought eight clipboards, then broke all of them during the second half. Madcow? These guys only have six teeth between them. Happily, Machine gutted it out and won three straight to take the super back door over Madison.

Sub Zero came out on top at Regionals.
They're so hot right now.

On the other side of the bracket, Mr Serious watched Haymaker lose 15-12 in a surprisingly tight game with that troupe of preening male models who play ultimate on the side under the name Sub Zero. Mr Serious later learned that Haymaker then proceeded to lose their next game to some college team.

What's it going to be Haymaker?

Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate haven't been this teased since Twin Peaks. One day you're playing sick ultimate and tempting us to board the Haymaker bandwagon, and the next day you're losing to the the New Trier girls field hockey team. Enough Haymaker. Decide that you're going to be a serious ultimate team, or pick up some women, stop practicing, inhale six Ho Hos a day and join the co-ed division.

Third Coast and Optimus Lime finished somewhere
between The Gluttonous and The Hoarders

Optimus Lime and Third Coast; I have a life to live. I can't spend my time writing up your hellish Regional results.

Ok. Mr Serious has neglected to mention that Mr Briefcase made Nationals too. Briefcase was seeded second out of 16 teams, with only 15 bids to Nationals up for grabs. Despite this pressure cooker atmosphere, Briefcase garnered the one seed from the Central Region. Actually, Mr Briefcase finished second. The Chad Larson Experience won the region, but Briefcase gets the one seed because Chad Larson isn't attending Nationals. That's right. Chad Larson won the fucking region, and they finished 3/4 at Nationals last year, but this year they've decided not to go to Nationals.

Mr Ultimate was hospitalized after hearing that
CLEX turned down their bid to Nationals.

What kind of a jiztastic diarrhea milksop division is the co-ed division? I just threw up my spleen, ate it back up to get the bad taste out of my mouth, then threw it up again. Mr Ultimate had a siesure and I had to put a wooden spoon in his mouth to keep him from swollowing his tongue. He was rushed to the ER where he was stabilized and moved to intensive care, and he may not make our plyo workout tomorrow. Is the entire co-ed division an elaborate joke on Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate? If it is, Touche. It's a good joke. But if it's not a joke, what the fuck is it? Well I guess it's Congratulations to Mr Briefcase and the 14 other Co-ed Nationals qualifiers from the Central Region. You have garnered a prize freely discarded and freshly shit on.

Optimus Lime: Don't know you, can't stand you

Last night at 11:00 Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate were sitting naked in the sauna of Cheetah Gym after a 3 hour ultimate specific lifting session that included 7 different types of squats using progressively greater elements of instability, culminating in a double body weight squat set with each foot balanced on a medecine ball.

Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate heat it
up with another Cheetah Gym patron.

Anything less would have been like giving the disc to the other team with a red bow on it. While recovering in the sauna, Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate wondered aloud about Optimus Lime. We don't know anyone on Optimus Lime. I am sure they are all nice men and women. They're likely fun to hang out with. They're probably good to their parents. Maybe they do volunteer work on weekends, helping the poor keep their heat on during the winter. All Mr Serious is asking is that they disband the team and burn their jerseys.

Optimus Lime, you play co-ed ultimate. That's a fact. And while I can't gainsay your ontology, that is kind of like being a professional Hungry Hungry Hippos player. But hey, that's your life choice. Some people like to play hot, intense, serious ultimate with sweet hucks and sick layouts, and some people like to snap furiously at colored marbles with little plastic hippo heads. To each his own. But if you're going to be a professional Hungry Hungry Hippos player, at least be good at it. At least Mr Briefcase can say, We're the number 11 Hungry Hungry Hippos player in the country. That's something. We are somebody. But Optimus Lime, you're the number 431 Hungry Hungry Hippos player in the country.

Optimus Lime practice gets intense.

At some point you've got to say, Maybe it's time I stop playing a game reccomended for ages 8 and up, move out of my parents house and get a job at Best Buy. Don't you ever get up in the morning and question the meaning of it all while your mom makes you an omlet? Optimus Lime, you have come to a decisive moment in your life. Either you start living a purposeful life, or you start an ultimate blog about you and your friends going to Rodan.

Why don't Optimus Lime and Third Coast just combine to make a team that sucks less? Mr Serious knows why they don't combine. Ultimate politics. Ultimate politics represents the complete negation and destruction of serious ultimate. Ultimate politics is for people who would rather play games than win games. Ultimate politics is for people who would rather feel emotions than play ultimate. In short, ultimate politics is for douche faces. As a community service, Mr Serious will now offer remedies to your ultimate politics dilemmas.

Ultimate politics hard at work.

Conundrum #1: A guy who has been on your team for a long time and who has a number of friends on the team is getting fat and greasy. Had he just been some random player, he might have been cut already. But because of his social capital, he continues to stay on, even though he's no longer capable of really contributing to the team. To complicate matters, he thinks he's still good. How should you handle this delicate situation?
Mr Serious counsels: Cut him via text message.

Conundrum #2: You're fat, or you just don't like winning, and you play co-ed. One of the best women players on your team has a boyfriend who is also on the team but who sucks. However, you're apprehensive about getting rid of him for fear of alienating his girlfriend, who you really need. She has hinted that if her boyfriend doesn't make the team, she would leave the team as well.
Mr Serious counsels: Cut them both at a tournament. They can run the sweetest two person weave of all time while reflecting on how they're more important that the team while Mr Serious pukes.

Conundrum #3: Your co-ed team blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah.
Mr Serious counsels: Cut them all.

Heavy at Heavyweights

Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate were in attendance at Chicago Heavyweights the other weekend. Lots of fuckin' hot serious ultimate. Serious ultimate gives Mr Ultimate and Mr Serious a reason to live life and a way to live it fucking right. If you don't think about ultimate the moment you wake up, when you put head to pillow at night, and while you're kissing your girlfriend, you are living with your head underground and breathing thick mud. Ultimate motherfucker!

Nemesis won the women's divison over Mojo with some sickly serious play. Mia, Mel, Becky, Hellyer and Co were balling as usual. Way to go ladies. Machine won their first pool with a big victory over Sub, then blew it after being up big on Pike, putting them into the semi-serious 5th place bracket. Come on boys. Put your foot on their nuts. There has been no indication on Mike Denardis' scintillating blog about whether he's going to quit the team two weeks before regionals to play co-ed. But a rumor reached the ears of Mr Ultimate that Mr Briefcase has a Youth M jersey waiting for him.

Speaking of, Mr Briefcase made it to the co-ed finals. Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate were on hand for the first point, but then decided it would be more enjoyable to get spontaneous proctology exams from this guy. Mr Serious can't concieve of a more appropriate venue for Briefcase to bust out of the pack than a tournament called "Heavyweights." Briefcase doesn't seem to be taking a casual attitude towards cases of ding dongs. I didn't know

Mr Briefcase takes a breather between points

Under Armor made maternity jerseys.

A third of the guys on the team look like they haven't seen a track workout since college. Mr Ultimate suspects the influence of their strength and conditioning coach. Sure, Mr Serious plans to grow a huge gut and play beer league softball when he's 38 and living in Rolling Meadows, but not quite yet.

Another third of the guys on Briefcase Mr Serious thought were out of ultimate or dead or married or all of the above. Don't these guys have gutters to clean, Yard Gaurd to apply, dance recitals to attend? These guys played serious ultimate and dropped out because it wasn't a high priority. That is like taking the most valuable years of your life and grinding them into a sad, pathetic pulp. Now the only thing these guys are serious about is quick, efficent trips to Kohls. Great life choice bros!

The greatest accomplishment of your athletic life

The last third of the men are young, skilled, and in shape, but have never played serious club ultimate. They are co-ed lifers. Brutal. Everybody enjoyed co-ed sports in gym class, but maybe by the age of 27 you should think about graduating from high school. I hope you accomplish something in life before you die so they'll have something to put on your tombstones.


If you aren't playing serious ultimate you're like a piece of warm meat filling an office chair, a red Scion, and slinking from The Bongo Room to Salud getting fatter, drunker, lamer, older--making fewer plays and more jokes. Meanwhile Friday night 11pm Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate are practicing backhand roll curves after bribing the night manager at the Ditka Sports Dome, and going over possible break mark scenarios if we were ever to be marked by Mantue Bol.

Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate saw Miss Casual and Ms Ultimate at the Briefcase final, looking self-involved. Ms Ultimate (the feminist of the two) runs like a puma and looks like she could be playing serious ultimate. But Mr Ultimate suspects her legendary nightlife has held her back.

Miss Casual: does this young lady even play ultimate, or does she just hang out with ultimate players, take pictures and drink Sparks? Let's meet up at Piece afterwards for some house brews and free pizza! Thanks Miss Casual. I wonder why ultimate struggles to gain acceptance as a legitimate sport. Please sequester yourself at Durkins with Bill Finn from June to October.

No Chicago teams made nationals last year? No Chicago men's team has made quarters in 8 years? Let's start a blog! Let's call it "casualultimate." Then sweet players across the country will see how strong chicago ultimate is and want to move here. It's already started to draw new talent.

Miss Casual and Ms Ultimate in 6th period

Don't get me wrong. Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate like to jerk off, but we don't put it online. Each post on casualultimate is like like an insight into the world of ultimate, if the world of ultimate was contained in Niles North High School. See you in study hall Miss Casual and Ms Ultimate.

Haymaker's starting O line

Mr Ultimate observed part of a Haymaker game on Sunday. These guys are struggling to be serious, and Mr Serious and Mr Ultimate appreciate that. Some of their guys were solid and looked like they could really tear up some serious ultimate. Some
of their guys looked like they could really tear up summer league while being gaurded by a
45 year old guy in spandex shorts and a pony tail, then slicing up a watermelon and firing up a Hibachi at half time. Who brought the cooler full of Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade? Haymaker's no Union Crew.

Did Optimus Lime and Third Coast even play at Heavyweights? Do these people realize that they play for the THIRD co-ed team in Chicago? And if they do, do they immediately burst into flames? The THIRD co-ed team. That is like the 9th ring of hell. Mr Serious would rather take a Greyhound completely engulfed in a chemical fire from Chicago to Kankakee making 11 stops on the way than endure the carnival of turnovers that is an Optiums Lime box drill.