#Team Flyball

[bordercolliefanclub]

Check Out the Exciting 2017 Crufts Flyball Team Final Races

Always exciting and always featuring some amazingly agile and skilled border collies in the group! Check out this year’s action-filled Flyball Team Final at Crufts – the World’s Biggest Dog Show! https://is.gd/2LCJCW https://www.bordercolliefanclub.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/2017-Crufts-Team-Flyball-Final.jpg

[groenendaze]

we had 1 really amazing preflight and 3 okay-ish ones. which. ofc no videos of the one great one. struggling with my lovely little dog keeping her head and box criteria when super high (spoiler: it does not go super well) so while i did release her myself for the first time in a full lane (🎉), we ended up having to take a huge step back after trying to warm up during an actual race.

[border-collie]

I think I need to do a mental crop rotation and put agility on the back burner for a bit. IDK if it's because I'm not financially able to compete right now or what, but training isn't fun for me right now. Not sure what I would pick up in the meantime, maybe do some heel work, but it's just not scratching the itch I need right now.

[disastrouscanasta]

@evidenceof happy christmas yna!!!! i was your secret santa this year, and it was an absolute BLAST! you were the best giftee, very thorough in your answers to my asks, and if i didn't need to maintain anonymity for so long, i would have picked your brain on soooo many of your wonderful thoughts. YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE PAIRINGS SO WELL, and literally every prompt and idea you gave me was SO amazing, and incredible to explore. thank you for being so lovely <3 for you, i have a fic that i've worked on over the past few weeks, inspired by your prompts!

A Busy Blur | runner/leckie | 2k | post-war, developing relationship, a touch of epistolary & long-distance love

**

“You’ll write to me, won’t you Cobber?” Runner said, a playful lilt in his voice. Leckie could have sworn he caught a flash of something more vulnerable, more honest, from around the bags under his eyes, under the furrow of Runner’s brow. 

“If you learn how to read, sure.” Leckie said.

And Runner laughed, mouth splitting open in a bright smile that drew Leckie’s attention away from the bruises and the sling his friend’s arm was suspended in.

**

The first letter was simple.

Leckie,

I bet you’re home safe, now. And if you’re not, well, that’s your fault for being the only idiot sonofabitch to get hurt on the train ride from the harbour, instead of being killed by artillery. Somehow, that sounds about right.

Hope the mailing address is right,

Conley.

Leckie smiled wide when he read it, forgetting that he was sitting across from his stone-faced father at the table, half-eaten eggs forgotten in front of him when he had Runner’s letter in his hands.

“Did you get a cheque?” His father asked, speaking up for the first time since he’d come into the dining room and filled the seat at the far side of the table, away from his son.

“No,” Leckie answered simply. If his mother was there, she might have pried, probably asked about a girl, she’d have put just an inch more effort than his dad ever had.

His father made a short grunting sound before turning back to his paper.

(He read the Philadelphia Inquirer. Leckie himself worked for the Philadelphia Record. Figures.)

**

Leckie kept a notebook on him at all times, but he used it most at sports games, taking notes on the plays and activity of the baseball season. The notepad was filled with shorthand accounts of who was doing best, who was doing the worst, teams and rosters and everything he could come up with.

Some days (most,) he wasn’t granted the privilege of good seats, or even tickets to whatever sport was being played. But he had to write the damn article, anyway. So he sat by the radio, listening to the play-by-play accounts as they happened, with their paper’s roster open on the table in front of him.

His notebook looked something like this:

23/04/‘46

NY Giants vs. P. P.

JUDD, Oscar - pitching.

^ 3 SO

NORTHEY, Ron - batting

^ Home run, flyball to deep RF

SEMINICK, Andy - batting

^ Single, F. MCCORMICK SCORES

Playtime : 2hrs 14mins

PS: tell Runner about the weather

**

He’d been surprised at how easy it was to slip back into camaraderie with Runner.

But then again it had been easy on the boat, too, when—

Well, that was in the past. And even if there had been a few road bumps, they had never stopped being friends.

The war being over, reassuringly, didn’t stop that.

**

Runner,

He wrote at the start of his response, and paused. 

Runner’s letter sat next to him on his desk, under the warm light of the lamp. It had been dark for hours, and Leckie just couldn’t bring himself to put anything on the page until nearly midnight.

That letter had started with Leckie, and wasn’t that awfully formal? They’d gotten to know each other more intimately than most people would ever manage and— Leckie. It was impersonal. He’d expected something more ridiculous, Peaches, Cobber, something like that.

Leckie was sticking with Runner, for his own purposes.

(It had taken everything in him not to write Dear Vera. Less out of intent, and more out of habit. He’d never sent her any of his letters, and by the time he got him, she was already married. She looked happy, at least.)

Runner,

Got home in one piece. Based on your letter, and the fact that that chicken-scratch is unmistakably yours, I’ll guess that you’re alright stateside.

Since we haven’t got a war to talk about, I’m telling you a bit about work (a bit of complaining, so that you know it’s really me.)

The Philly Phillips won, 5-2. The paper made me sit by the radio box and take notes like some kind of spook, you’d think I work for the Russians, if you saw me hunched over my notebook like that. Last week, they got me a ticket to the actual game. We lost, with three points down. I think I’m cursed, if my presence makes the team lose.

Whatever. It’s still better than scraping out a latrine, with you sorry folks for company.

Leckie.

He posted it in the morning, and tucked Runner's letter away in his drawer.

**

Hoosier promised to write, so did Chuckler, and that Phillips kid, but ultimately, every time he got handed a personal letter by the postman, it was always, always, from Runner.

It felt ridiculous. He’d gone a whole war with those fellas, and they didn’t say so much as hello? But hey, what was he supposed to do?

(Their mailing addresses were tucked away in the same drawer that he kept any letters he got from Runner. They had his, he had theirs, and maybe his was part of some ongoing game of Chicken that he was playing with Hoosier. Either way, Runner didn’t care.)

Cobber,

The newest letter said, because Runner had quit with the Leckie pretence and cut to the chase with the stupid nicknames. Leckie couldn’t help but feel relief. Too many people had called him by his surname in the Marines. And back home, too many people called him Bob. Runner managed to find that surprising middle ground, by letting Leckie be someone else completely, just for a moment.

I’ve got a reason to write this, for once. Today, is Memorial Day. Which, as far as I’m concerned, is the government telling me to take the day off and get wasted, flashing that little veteran’s tag to get a discount at my local drink house.

Now, you’ll get this on, what? Beginning of June? Take some time for yourself, have a drink. (I’m not paying, though. That’s up to you, and your fancy paper job.)

Runner

If there was one thing that Leckie could be assured about, it’s that Runner’s letters would make him smile. He started reading them in his bedroom, instead of cracking the letter open in the dining room, where his parents had to see.

Everyone seemed to expect him to have left the war overseas. And it might have been over, but he couldn’t help but yearn for something that he’d had then. Not war, but something that had been so closely linked with the brutality of it all, that he didn’t think he’d be able to articulate it to anyone.

Maybe, he pondered, Runner understood him. Runner had understood him better than a lot of people had. On the boat ride home from that Australian hospital—

Runner just got it.

**

Runner,

He started, a couple weeks later.

You should get this by July 4th, and I wish you a good Independence Day. Go to a barbecue, wear your dress blues, go to a banquet. 

I hope it’s better for you than it will be for me. My parents are leaving me all alone to spend time with my brother and his wife, a couple towns over. I’m expecting to spend the night tucked up in my bedroom, shouting bah, humbug! everytime I hear fireworks. I hope the reference doesn’t go over your head— I can explain it in my next letter.

Leckie

**

The Fourth of July was more miserable than he’d expected. The commotion stirred up more in Leckie’s chest than he wanted to admit. The fireworks were too loud, and July was too hot. He laid on his childhood bed in nothing but his boxers, staring up at the ceiling, working through his third glass of beer.

At some point, he got up, pulled a paper from his desk and started writing.

Runner,

These damn holidays might be more exciting if you got closer.

There’s a good bar near my work, they do swing dancing on Thursday nights: I’m sure it’s your venue. You’re the best dancer I know!

I hope you can hear the sarcasm.

I won’t pick Hoosier over you, this time.

Leckie.

In the morning, after a cup of coffee and an aspirin for his headache, he read it through (as well as a typed page-and-a-half of hazy memories from Mbanika, which he crumpled into a ball and tossed under his bed.) and tucked it carefully into the drawer with Runner’s letters.

He didn’t really want to think too hard about all that.

**

Peaches,

I got the reference, thanks. I like to think you have those big mutton chops that I remember from those old pictures. You’re called Peaches, but you’re not all that sweet, are you?

That’s not a real question. I know the answer.

Hope your Independence Day was as boring as mine. I forgot how loud those things were.

Runner

**

Leckie couldn’t stop writing them. Stupid, ridiculous messages that really meant nothing.

He put them in his drawer, tucked away just in case he ever needed it. Leckie didn’t think it was vain, but some of them were well written. He didn’t feel that too often, so he kept them.

**

I saw a guy with your haircut, made me look twice just to be sure. I should have known it wasn’t you; he was taller.

That one was scribbled in his work notebook, while he was at the game (Phillips vs. Chicago Cubs), and the audience clapped and jeered around him.

You’re a marine, but how well can you swim? I’ve never asked.

Leckie wrote that question on a napkin in a diner. His pen ripped through it at the end.

**

I miss the boys. I miss you.

He didn’t write that one, but he heard it reverberating in his head when he flicked the lamp off. It was burned into the backs of his eyelids, anyway.

I miss you.

He was surprised that he meant it.

**

Professor,

That was how Runner opened his next message. It made Leckie smile. (Of course it did. They all did.)

Why DO we celebrate Labour Day? I saw them putting streamers and banners and what-not up in the streets today. New York City is a funny beast— you should come by, watch the parade.

Hope you get a day off work, and some time to yourself. (I’m still not paying for your drinks)

Runner

Leckie stared at that message for longer than he had any right to. By the time he sent his reply, Labour Day had passed, and he could only wonder what Runner had meant by any of it.

**

Runner,

I’ve got to come up with something more exciting for you. It’s difficult when I can’t see all the ridiculous shit you’re getting yourself into. And you don’t have the inclination to write it to me, I bet.

I’d call you a coward, but you’d call me one right back. Have you ever realised that we bicker like school children?

Leckie

**

To the man who mocks me,

Yeah, well, it’s hard to come up with nicknames for you too. That one just now was shit.

You want to know what I’ve been up to? Really? Well, I’ve got a job at the steelworks, which is great and all. Except I ran into a piece of machinery the other day, busted my lip wide open. There was a hell of a lot of blood. I think the 16-year-old kid who works next to me fainted. How’s that?

We’re both cowards, so what? We served our damn country.

Buster (I sure buster’ed my lip open. Get it?)

**

Bruiser,

All I have to say is that: you’re an idiot!

Yours,

The brilliant professor who’s kept himself out of danger

**

Leckie thought about Runner too much, he realised.

Some part of him was always waiting for the next letter, waiting to write, to come up with something short and stupid to say to the man, just so that he could imagine Runner’s familiar laugh.

Shit. Leckie thought, as he folded up another half-drafted, but unsendable letter.

**

Professor,

Tell me a story, if you’re so wise.

Your bruised-lipped-friend,

Runner

**

Runner,

If you really want to know, I’ve been more of an idiot to you.

My mother asked me this morning if I was getting married soon. I told her no.

She said that she thought I had been in contact with “that lovely girl from across the street,” and the woman she meant was the dearest Vera that everyone was so tired of hearing about. I had to break my mother’s heart and tell her that Vera moved away months ago, and that she was already married— to an army man, no less.

The old woman was more distraught about it than I was. Turns out she thought that Vera and you were one in the same. I’m surprised she never sent you an engagement present.

Leckie.

**

Leckie,

Hell, why didn’t you say so? I would have acted soppier.

In that case, you should come to New York this November and visit your sweetheart, how’s that?

Runner

**

Leckie blinked at that, then he stared for a long time, hoping to make sense of it all.

**

Runner,

November’s no good, I’m all booked up. How’s early December?

Leckie

**

To a difficult guest,

I guess I can fit you into my busy schedule.

I’ll see you in three weeks, then?

Runner.

**

Leckie booked a train ticket before he could convince himself otherwise.

Then, he stuffed a handful of his little messages into an envelope, scribbled Runner’s address, and mailed it all without a second thought.

Five days letter, he got an envelope back, inside, with no signature, was something simple, etched in Runner’s charming chicken-scratch:

We should have done all this in February. I would have wished you a happy Valentine’s.

[purplesaline]

Parker has discovered where all the balls in the house are hiding apparently. He's brought me 3 in the last 5 minutes 🤣🤣

If anyone is struggling to teach their dog to play fetch I highly encourage rewarding them for bringing you the thing you want to them to fetch rather than focusing on the chasing part. The chasing comes naturally when they're highly motivated to bring it back to you and you never have to worry about chasing them down to get the thing back!

I started just by holding the ball and rewarding any interest in it. Then rewarded him putting his mouth on it, then holding it, then dropping it after he held it. Then I started tossing it a small distance away and only rewarding when he'd bring it back within reach. Incrementally increased the distance I threw it, then worked on dropping it directly into my hand, not just near me.

Any time he ever brings me a ball he gets rewarded for it, whether I've thrown it or not. This includes anything remotely ball shaped (he's brought me dryer balls a couple times 😂). I wanted to reinforce this side of things because I noticed when playing flyball it's not uncommon for dogs to drop the ball before they reach the line and getting them to go back for the ball can be a challenge, costing the team time.

With Parker if he doesn't immediately get his reward after dropping the ball he runs back to grab it and bring it closer without needing to be urged to do so (if he even dropped the ball in the first place).

He's also motivated to grab the ball from the far end even if it wasn't thrown because he knows bringing it back will get him a reward regardless.

(He just brought me a fourth ball! I have no idea where he's finding them all)

(He's such a good boy)

[puppyboyknot]

Dogsports for puppyplay!!! Showpuppies being put on tables and walked around to judges to be examined on their coat, posture, holes, breedability, etc. Obedience and rally pups being walked around by their trainer doing fun tricks and being tested on their endurance. Agility puppies running around courses (maybe trying to keep a plug in). Flyball puppies running on a team to try and catch a ball or a toy. Nosework puppies smelling around to find fun treats. Herding trial puppies herding cowgirls/boys/people into their milking and breeding stations. There’s so many options!!!!!!

[thorplayspetz]

My team for Flyball! Go Team: "Thor's Friendship is PFMagic"

[artistic-writer]

a year gone by

Many of you will know that for the last year or so, I have had very little, if any, fandom contact. I guess I should explain a little bit about what has been going down and what has kept me away.

My account would not let me in: And i am stubborn. So i stopped trying to get in. At the time i felt like the fandom was moving apart and I didn't want top to be apart of the he said she said that came along with it. I have seen a good number of new fandom members emerging, who are kind and loving and thoughtful on the Discord, and have made me want to come back.

Wilf: I got a second dog without realising the consequences of doing so and the impact it would have on my family. Wilf has his share of problems. He is my little ball of anxiety and I have been working through the many issues he has with him, but we are far from there yet. He is nearly 2 now <3

My health is in the tank: I have had several flare ups of my Fibromyalgia in the last few years, and many of them have made it difficult to sit still long enough. As you can imagine, this takes its toll on one's mental health. Yay having an illness that is worsened by inactivity. My nature is a little self destructive and i throw myself into work in order to forget about the pain, and that has led to severe fatigue, which in turn, is not conducive to writing or arting. I am sorry. Also, in April i had a work related accident where i thought i had just sprained my ankle, but as it turns out, i have detatched not one, but two ligaments, so am awaiting the outcome of will i/won't i need an operation? My appointment is in Dec.

I took up a hobby!: For nearly FOUR years I have been on the waiting list, trying to get into a dog sport called Flyball. FINALLY, my local team got back to us and Killian is running through their first course, and will hopefully be offered a place on the team! I have found a group of real human beings who 'get me' and so far, i am loving it!

I got a promotion at work: I am the boss now. for reals. i still cannot believe anyone would put me in charge of a team of people, but here we are. This eats up more of my time but also allows me to have a decent schedule - so should allow for more me time!

I went back to school: Obviously, not content with enough in my life, I enrolled on an Advanced Canine Behaviour Diploma course, for which i have a year to complete. I'm sure i can fit it in...somewhere. Collecting all the letters after my name, innit.

I work two jobs: 48 hrs a week in one job just wasn't enough, clearly. I am currently training with the Institute of Modern Dog Trainers (IMDT) and hope to become a fully accepted member at the satrt of next year. Their values align with everything i do in dog training, and although I currently offer 1-2-1's, classes, and such, I really want accolades that tell people I am the best. I currently work as a dog trainer Fridays, with the odd handstripping and groom thrown in between jobs.

My husband and I are working through some things: We are not actually married but it is easier to tell people we are rather than explain why we are not. We have had a very up-and-down few years, mainly because of miscommunication, but we are working through it because we are each other's soul mates. I would never want anyone else in my corner. maybe @hollyethecurious, but she's just there to hide the bodies. As such, we are making time for each other more, so I'll likely just be around in the evenings or weekends.

[maisietheyellowlab]

Is there a better possible flyball team name than "Road Runners Beep Beep"? I think not.

[arofundy]

also flyball is soooo fun i love seeing all the different dog breeds on the team

^ flyball

[soniabigcheese]

Watching Crufts - Junior Flyball, or whatever the event is. And one team has two dogs called....

Chaos and Havoc!

[grison-in-space]

Honestly the great curse of flyball is also its greatest strength: it runs in teams, so you have to make friends to play it.

(Tribble and I tried in Austin but the team we took classes with ghosted us when I tried to figure out if there was like, a way to join and come to practice; it's so hard to figure out how to volunteer and make friends that way sometimes.)

It's not my biggest priority with Matilda, but I really wish Benton had fewer tantrums about BALL BALL THAT IS NOT MINE; @coffee-mage-sans-caffeine has some concerns about whether he could cope with having to run past another dog with a ball without holding one himself, but if he could get past that hurdle I think they'd both have fun. CM is a speed junkie and he loves balls; what's not to love?

[border-collie]

Went to flyball last night with a few teams I've never practiced with plus my team and one person was SO CONVINCED that Saga was a sheltie and I was making things up. Her reasoning? She used to own shelties.

[moonsnull]

Wow this makes me miss flyball!! So shorty has a huge role as the smallest member of the team of four! That dog sets how tall the hurdles are for the whole team and is thus known as the “height dog”!

Also if flyball makes you uncomfy like the first commenter maybe go protest how fucked up dog shows are for encouraging the creation of inbred and unhealthy breeds! Flyball is a great way to bond with your pooch and get them active beyond simply going for walks or playing ball in the backyard.

[stratverse]

4/3/13: Twins Just Barely Hang On To Beat Tigers

Wednesday, April 3, 2013 Target Field

Final score: Twins 7, Tigers 6 MVP: SP Kevin Correia, Twins: 7 IP, 8 hits, 3 K, 3 ER

The Twins plated 7 runs - 4 in the 4th inning, 3 more in the 7th - and then did just enough to hang on for the 7-6 victory over the Tigers. The Tigers got an early start on the offense for the second game in a row, this time with a 1st inning 2-run home run. However, Twins starter Kevin Correia was able to settle down after that, leaving after 7 with a 7-3 lead, and the Twins overcame closer Glen Perkins' 9th inning near-catastrophic collapse to walk away with a hard-earned 7-6 win. The teams combined for 23 hits, 6 walks, 3 triples, and 5 home runs; on the opposing end, pitcher Al Alburquerque faced 2 batters and gave up 2 runs, Twins batters struck out 10 total times, and Perkins allowed the Tigers two solo shots and then loaded the bases before escaping when a deep flyball off the bat of pinch-hitter Brayan Peña lost its air right at the fence.

DET 6/14/0 – LP: Aníbal Sánchez (0-1) MIN 7/9/1 – WP: Kevin Correia (1-0); S: Glen Perkins (1)

Det 1st: Torii Hunter draws a 1-out walk; Miguel Cabrera follows with a 2-run shot to left. Prince Fielder then singles to right, Brian Dozier commits an error, and Andy Dirks singles to center to load the bases, but Kevin Correia is able to induce a line-out and ground out to 2nd to escape further damage. 2-0 DET Det 4th: Omar Infante slaps a two-out single to right and scores on Austin Jackson's triple to left. 3-0 DET Min 4th: Joe Mauer walks with 1 out; Josh Willingham smashes an offering over the right field wall for a 2-run home run; Justin Morneau doubles to right; Eduardo Escobar triples to right, driving in the tying run; after a strike out, Chris Parmelee singles to center and Escobar plates the go-ahead run. 4-3 MIN Min 7th: Parmelee hits a lead-off double to right, chasing Aníbal Sánchez; Brian Dozier hits a RBI doubl eto center; Pedro Florimón hits a 2-run home run to right, chasing Al Alburquerque after just 2 batters; after a strike out, Mauer and Willingham walk to load the bases with 1 out, but Morneau hits a comebacker to the mound which is turned into an inning-ending double play. 7-3 MIN Det 8th: Víctor Martínez hits a lead off single and advances to 2nd on a wild pitch; 1 out later, Jhonny Peralta smacks a RBI single into left. 7-4 MIN Det 9th: With one out, Hunter swings at the first pitch he sees from closer Glen Perkins and sends it over the fence in left field for a solo home run; Cabrera takes the next pitch over the wall in center for back-to-back solo home runs (and his second home run of the game); Fielder than singles, Martínez singles, and after a strikeout, Peralta walks to load the bases; pinch-hitter Brayan Peña gets hold of a Perkins pitch and skies it to deep left, but it is snagged on the warning track to end the game. MIN 7-6 (F)

(Strat note: Ryan Doumit actually started this game as DH for the Twins, but since in my replay he got injured in the first game - minor injury, only out for this game - I started Escobar at left, batting him in Doumit's spot, and moved Willingham to the DH spot. A possible very slight upgrade, maybe, at defense, but thankfully it didn't come into play and cost them. Doumit will be back for the final game of the set. On the other hand, Perkins' inning was largely a result of every single roll leading to the reads coming off of the batter's cards. Caused a lot of anxiety for the Twins' fans in Strat-Target Field, I'm sure. Also, Trevor Plouffe and Alex Avila both K'd 3 times. Correia gets the game MVP not so much because he deserves it, but because no one else really stood out. It was a team effort for the Twins, but too much nonsense - double plays, strike outs, 1-4 batting nights, to give it to anyone else. Maybe Florimón deserved it a bit, because his 2-run shot in the 7th, his only hit of the game, ended up providing what proved to be the very important insurance runs - including the eventual game winning run, plated by him himself.

I'm also trying to figure out the 25(ish) man line ups that each team has at the time and stick with that - which is a little hard because of call ups/call downs, and because not all players have physical Strat cards. So, for example, the Twins and Tigers each only had 24 players today - the Twins 23, actually, with Doumit out. Also, very depleted bullpens, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to follow that. But I'll try. What it does likely mean, though, is that I won't be able to follow Strat's "rest relievers that pitch in 2 straight games" rule - I may have to make that 3 games, or make it based on an inning limit. Because there just aren't enough relievers unless you're using 30+ man rosters. And, of course, things will get dicey if I'm not using the same injuries as in real-life - hard to explain why players would then be sitting out countless games, so maybe that will lead to slightly increased rosters when the 'replacement call ups' join the roster and the 'injured players' continue to play because they're not injured here. We'll see - lots to think about.)

Minnesota 1-1; Detroit 1-1 Next game in replay: STL (Lynn, 0-0) @ ARI (McCarthy, 0-0)

[lloonlloon]

The worst thing about flyball being a team sport is when you’re trying to work on something with your dog and your teammate keeps screwing up and it sabotages everything you’re trying to work on 🤬