Don’t know why, but there is a problem with our internet connectivity here at work today. Some sites are working just fine. But others have been inaccessible all day.

I. Can’t. Get. On. Google!

Or Bloglines. Or Flickr.

I’m crawling out of my skin.

Well.

It wasn’t the triumphant crushing of our opponents that I had hoped it would be.

Our first game, a quarter-finals match, was vs. Diablos Loco, a strong team with a whole lot of wily vets. We had played them twice in the regular season and lost on both occasions. So we knew this would be a hard match.

But things started off very very well. We were out-running them on defence and out of nowhere we got our long game back. (I was very happy to see the return of my consistent long throws. I missed them.) Our zone wasn’t hugely effective, as they are a team of handlers that have the patience to work a cup. But our man-on-man defence was doing the job quite well.

We had one point where the disc was turned over halfway down the field from their endzone and Ramzi broke deep. I ran to pick up the disc and sent a long flick to him in the endzone… just as a guy on a bicycle (!) rode across the field between my position and the endzone. Now, the throw made it successfully to the endzone, where Ramzi caught the disc ahead of his defender, and the bike had no effect on either of them. But we called the disc back as people from behind were yelling “Bike! Bike!” So, the disc came back to me. And somehow, everyone that was previously behind me on the field ended up in front of me. Suspicious. However, I looked at Ramzi, and he gave me a little head waggle. I called “3, 2, 1, disc in!”, Ramzi busted deep to the opposite side of the endzone, where I sent a backhand huck, and Ramzi caught it for a score. Jason - 1, Bike - 0.

We went to half ahead 8-5. It was great! We felt like we had the game in the palm of our hands. However, the other team had a bucketful of experience and this was when it started to show. They began to claw their way back, slowly over the course of the second half, until it was 10-10. (I blame Jacek. Stupid good throws and strong D.) Not a good situation. Then, as we are working it up the field, the horn goes. This means that the next point wins. Crap.

So play continues and there is a foul call by the goal line. It goes back to Dominika. Joan is marking her and calls it back in… and starts the count at 8. (I don’t know why, she just does.) However, Dom gets the dump off to me after “nine!” and I quickly hammer it to the break force side to Jeff in the endzone. He catches it. I think, “Yippee! We won!” However, Joan is calling it back, saying the the disc was dead.

The problem at this point is two-fold: (1) the count should have come in at 5 not 8, and (2) it wasn’t dead as she hadn’t said “ten!” before the disc was released. So really, it should have counted… except for the fact that she called it and stopped playing. So, the disc came back to me. I feel like the point should have counted, but I also feel that if she stopped because she thought it was dead, it should go back. Another elusive gray zone.

After that, the point went on for another ten minutes, with at least five turnovers per team. But finally, and with much sadness on our part, Diablos scored the point, winning the game and earning the spot in the semis. It was heartbreaking to lose the match, but it really was our best played game of the season.

After that, I think the team’s mental focus just went on vacation. We had a bye, followed by a game for fifth vs. Population Explosion. We had played them three times in the regular season, tying them once and beating them twice. But, while we went into the game after a loss and a bye, they went into it straight after upsetting Circus Midgets. The game wasn’t pretty, and we let them get ahead by about three points. The final nail in the coffin happened when the game was cut short by the horn. The games were supposed to be 80 minutes long, but this match was no more than 50 minutes. (I guess the convenors decided, as the day was running late, that the match had to be ended early in order to get the Thursday league playoffs started on time.) So, just as our team was getting revved up to get ourselves back in the game, it was over. (Of course, for all I know, they could have just pounded us further. We’ll never know.)

The season had a definite progression for Elephant. We started the season slow and had a very difficult time maintaining a consistent offence. But in the latter third of the season, we stepped up our level of play and definitely became a much stronger team. And if I have one thing to say about my teammates, they were a bucket of fun to play with.

So props out to all you heffalumps — you made me proud.

PS: Due to technical difficulties, I can’t post any photos from playoffs yet. I’ll throw them up later.

Crap. Now I’m a zombie.

And I was looking forward to this cinnamon bun too.

• New York Times: “But Is There Intelligent Spaghetti Out There?”

Try and laugh us off now, chuckleheads!

Mwahahahahahahahahaaaaaa!

• eHow.com: “How to Spot a Virgo”

Okay. Breathe. Stay calm. Don’t freak out. Breathe.

As a palliative, perhaps rewriting the tip in a more succinct fashion will help.

How to spot a Virgo.

1. Take a large hunk of wood. (Hardwood preferrably, although pine can do in a pinch.)
2. Grasp it firmly with both hands.
3. Drive the hunk of wood briskly and with great force into your forehead.
4. Repeat until you have lost the desire to find out if someone is a Virgo our not.

Yes. That does help.