there are four objects. three of them are frisbees that belong to me. one stanford women’s ultimate, and two stanford men’s ultimate discs. discraft ultrastar 175g — a beautifully overpriced and addicting piece of molded plastic.
the fourth object is the Stanford DiscMagnet™, located in the engineering quad and better known as the 11th hole of the stanford disc golf course (or one of the courses). it has the mysterious property of attracting plastic discs (my discs in particular) in the same way as a physics class magnet attracts iron filings, and has ruthlessly stolen the three aforementioned discs from me while playing the 11th hole.
normally, i would call it the way of the game, the world, or the little faeries that must exist in frisbees to make them spin so fast and perform nature-defying feats like the ‘scooper’. however, total merchandise currently beached on top of the DiscMagnet™ sculpture approaches $30. this chafes, since it’s the worth of at least two CDs, gone to waste on top of a glorified ‘techy’ tin can. not to mention the fact that my supply of discs is rapidly diminishing.
thus with steeled will i convinced dan to go with me last night at 11pm to the engineering quad in order to retrieve my discs. we brought our climbing gear, rope, and sharp wits to battle the complacently stolid (yet smirking, i know) fiend. unfortunately also sharp were the edges of the overhung top of the DiscMagnet™, making it an impossibility to use the rope and climb to the top. we explored other ideas of lifting ourselves to the top of the 30-foot beast, but none of them had an acceptable risk factor. we were willing to save the frisbees, but not to lose our lives in the process.
my last idea was to take a bite (a loop) of rope and attempt to toss it completely over the top through a hole in the middle (which was, of course the hole for the golf course) and then slowly drag it back across the top so it would act like a net and scoop any discs in its path off the top and into the hole. as it happened, though, the rope was much to heavy–its own weight precluded it from being thrown 30 feet in the air and then some, in order to make it land on the other side.
all told, it was an hour’s hard work with nothing to show for it. i shook my fists in silent defiance at the stolid cement-and-copper behemoth as we packed up our wonderful, useless, gear and walked away.
still, defeat is only temporary, i assure myself. reconnaissance is now the order of the day–i must find a way to the top of one of the surrounding buildings to see if i can spy the exact location of the frisbees so i can plan the next attack accordingly. i know now that i will have to make good use of the element of surprise…maybe a night parachute drop, or hiring a troupe of ninjas to form a human ladder to the top with lightning speed. anything else and i know the DiscMagnet™ will anticipate my every move.
here’s to imminent victory!
disc on spin: lift yr skinny fists like antennas to heaven | godspeed you black emperor!
