I thought so...but now that I look at the photo, it looks like they're resting it on their wrists but also gripping with their hands. My mistake may have been assuming everybody was balancing that well JUST on their wrist. Anyway, I'm just glad I didn't break the gold trophy.
Honestly, if my future self walked in the door right now and told me I never competed again due to family/life commitments, I'd believe him. If he said the opposite, that I continued to compete for 5 more years and won a couple more titles, I'd also believe him. I honestly don't know right now.
OK, let's get right to it. Here's the blow by blow of my finals routine. Hoo boy. Deep breaths!
The familiar opening organ chords hit, and I throw the first trick of the routine hoping I'll be on autopilot for the next two minutes. I hit the opening blurriest, but even as I land the double down I feel unstable on the landing. I miss the sealing paradox mirage, even though that's probably the safest bail trick in my entire game. I'm already off my game, as I know that if my body doesn't trust the floor surface enough to hit strong paradox mirage, then nothing is safe. The drop makes me miss my first choreo cue, but I recover fast enough to hit the toe sequence right after right on cue. Except I didn't, as the bag rolls off my toe. I'm eight seconds into my routine and I already have 2 drops, but more importantly I'm spooked about my footing. I recover to hit my next choreo cue, but follow it up by dropping my front sole stall. That trick requires good balance on the support leg, and between the squishy carpet and my 2 drops in the past 10 seconds, I don't have the confidence or the balance to stick it. I've now dropped it 3 times, and I haven't even gotten out of the intro section of my routine. I ditch the sunglasses at this stage, and I think that helps, but the damage has pretty much already been done. Part of me just wants to walk off stage and end the suffering, but I also realize what a bad look that'd be for both me and the tournament as a whole. I'm off my choreo for the next 10 seconds or so, but get back on track at the juggle section. I had a pretty ambitious juggle planned, with a few tricks done while the standing leg held a rooted toe stall. This of course requires good one-legged balance, and by this stage I should have realized I did not have this type of balance on this surface. Drop #4 happens as a result. Fuck. I'm less than a minute in, and I already have 4 drops. In practice I don't think I ever had more than 2 drops, but somehow I have double that less than halfway in, and my choreo is off. It feels unreal, like a nightmare, but I force myself to push on. The next 30 seconds, I somehow get back on track and hit my cues roughly where I planned them. The routine shows flickers of what it is supposed to be, and I even feel the audience coming back on my side a bit. Then I drop a toe stall out of a squeeze, as I didn't pause to ensure proper balance coming off a spin. I recover decently, but at this stage I already know my dreams of a good routine, much less a medal are dead in the water. I hit my cues pretty decently until the blind mirage section. Given all my struggles with balance tricks to this point in the routine, I probably shouldn't have even risked going for it. I do though, and mercifully at least I hit it. I use that momentum to push me through the rest of the routine, and thankfully I hit my final paradox torque to handcatch. Given how badly everything went, I wouldn't have been surprised to end on a drop. It would have been pretty fitting thematically. I'm relieved to close out the final section without any bad drops, but even as I force myself to bow to the audience and walk off stage with a forced smile on my face, I already know this is my worst disappointment in 20 years of competing.
The second I'm offstage and out of sightlines, I collapse to my knees and feel the crushing wave of disappointment wash over me. I almost don't know how to feel; it's like I'm beyond anger, beyond sadness... part of me honestly can't believe what happened actually happened. I hide behind the banner by the judges table to calm myself down and process things, and I watch the remaining few routines. Or at least my body and eyes are facing the stage...I'm not sure I'm really "watching" or processing anything at this stage. It's like I'm in shock. I do register that Vasek had an early drop, and that Taishi went dropless. I think I also register that Taishi's routine is pretty easy, but maybe that was a tactical calculation on his part. I already start to wonder if I should have watered down my routine given my struggles with the carpet, but at this stage it's too late.
Once routines conclude, I wander about in a daze asking people if there's any liquor stores nearby. The consensus appears to be that convenience stores sell cheap beer, but no liquor. I end up having to lightrail into downtown Portland to find a place that sells whiskey, and I get myself a small bottle for the rest of the night. On the lightrail ride back to the convention center I post on Facebook: "That didn't go as planned... " I'm already trying to cheer myself up, because I know that being depressed about it won't change the outcome. By the time I get back to the site, it turns out Circle comp has already ended. Like the dingleberry on the cake... I can't believe it's so hard to get booze in Portland, and that it took long enough that I missed Circle finals.
When I step back into the center, I get roped into doing some of the live stream commentary with Red and Kemmer. This ends up being probably the best thing that could happen to me, as being on camera forces me to put on a happy face which helps keep me from slipping into self-pity. After a few minutes on camera, I get a text from Haley who says she's watching me! Apparently she watched my routine on the live stream, and left the stream going on the TV in the background afterwards. So when she heard my voice, she tuned in again. It makes me feel better knowing she's seeing me post-routine with a smile on my face, as it'd put her mind at ease that I wasn't suicidal or anything.
Awards and results haven't been announced yet, so I kill time waiting by playing some pickup doubles net. It's a good distraction, and I even manage a few decent spikes which helps me take out some aggression. More than anything though, it feels good to play footbag well, even if it's the wrong kind of footbag, and even if objectively I still suck at it. Once they begin the awards ceremony, I break away to go applaud my friends. While I feel destroyed inside by an awful Finals showing, I think it's important from a sportsmanship standpoint to be supportive of my friends and the tournament. As they announce the results in reverse order, I feel no suspense about where I'll end up, because it honestly doesn't matter at this stage. Whether I got 5th or 8th doesn't change the fact that I had an awful Finals. I'm mildly surprised to find out I finished in 5th, but it carries no additional joy with it. I put on my gamest face and wave to the crowd. But I feel dead inside:
Even through my personal disappointment, I am happy to see Taishi on the podium. I still remember the first time I met him at Yoyogi park, one of the first of a wave of new players to get involved thanks to the Pepsi Twist campaign we ran. To see one of my Team Japan guys work so hard, stick with it, and become only the second asian person on the routines podium in history was a great feeling. Then they announced Vasek in second, and Pawel in first! Again, despite whatever else I was feeling about myself at the time, it was neat to be there to see the history of a non-BAP player win Worlds for the first time.
After awards, I hitch a ride to the party. I'm hoping for some dancing, or humor, or non-footbag conversation to distract me. Unfortunately none of those things are in great supply, so I end up floating from conversation to conversation like a ghost. A drinking ghost. It's like I'm at the party, but not really there. Weird how instinct takes over when a camera is pointed at you. Look at me smiling at the camera...cause I'm totally so happy at this moment in my life:
When Evan finally mercifully drives me home, it's a huge relief. Even with the booze, I can't erase the memory of my finals routine as I drift off to sleep. I had no idea that this would be the case so many more times in the coming weeks.
Only half a day more to blog, then maybe I'll do some closing thoughts on how I'm trying to process it all.