Hat tournaments are arguably my favourite way to play Ultimate. Getting randomly assigned to a ragtag group that initially doesn’t know each other or their playstyles very well, only to forge friendships in the fires of friendly competition is always a joy for me. Bristol Hat was the first hat that I attended in the UK, and I was eager to see how the hat atmosphere was here. While I did not enjoy the same easy familiarity of knowing most of the community as in Korea, I found a freshness that I hadn’t experienced since Bangkok Hat in 2020. Between camping with Kris for the first time, bonding with the rest of Team Doris, and one particularly memorable van wine hangout, there was much for me to relish in the weekend in Bristol.
The first memorable aspect of Bristol Hat was our accommodation. We arrived the night before the tournament, and instead of a team hotel or sleeping on a friend’s floor, we were instead sleeping on the floor of a freshly-procured tent. While I had been camping a few times when I was younger, it was Kris’ first time ever doing so. Luckily, camping technology has advanced a lot since I last slept in the wild, much to both of our joy. We sent up our pop-up tent (named Tentsby, naturally), set our self-inflating mattress to do its thing, laid down our double sleeping bag, and went to the registration desk. We found that we were on different teams, thankfully (we play with each other on teams enough, thanks). After that, we got ready for bed and put Tentsby to his first test. Despite the gusting wind and regular bouts of rain, we remained snug and cosy. His first outing was a success.
As noteworthy as Tentsby’s success was how lucky I was in terms of team selection. Hat tournaments are by nature a roll of the dice with what kind of team you’ll get. While the average certainly skews towards niceness and friendliness, I managed to far exceed what I’d dared to hope for. Team Doris had a great mix of motivation to improve, kind but organised leadership, and an ever-present desire to just have fun doing the best that you can. We ended up winning more matches than we had lost, smiling the whole way. That is hard to achieve considering I was playing with massive blisters and would end up losing a toenail due to my cleats being too small. I scored a point from a hammer, much to Kris’ chagrin. I made a handblock, and was overall very proud of my defensive play. No matter how much my feet hurt, I still wanted to give my all on every point for my new-found friends.
This newness was surprisingly refreshing for both Kris and I. In Korea, a major draw for hats was to play with old friends that we didn’t play with regularly, but there was a comfort in knowing most of the players on either side of the field. I was nervous that not knowing anyone would make the experience scarier for me, as I struggle to make new connections. What I had forgotten is that the Ultimate community is incredibly welcoming and accommodating, and filled with amazing people. I may not have started too many conversations, but each one I did was met with a new fascinating character. This was most evident in the particularly fast bond I formed with one of my teammates, forged with white wine in the back of his camper van. Kris, he, and I spent a couple of hours realising just how similar we are – how we liked a lot of the same music, enjoyed many of the same hobbies outside of Ultimate, and had similar senses of humour. Having that spark of connection was the personal highlight of the weekend for both Kris and I.
From the adventure of camping, to one of my favourite hat teams ever, to the invigorating thrill of making new, like-minded friends, I don’t think I could have asked for a better introduction to the wider UK Ultimate scene than Bristol Hat. It reinforced the sheer power of a shared interest, and particularly Ultimate, in helping bridge the gaps between people. I am keen to see more of what Ultimate in the UK has in store, and to return to Bristol Hat. Once I’ve finished yeeting my cleats into the sun, that is.
Where Life Truly Begins 