Ultimate Frisbee has traditionally had its strongest support on college campuses, but at tiny Margaret Mead Elementary in Redmond, the sport has quietly become the school's signature.
When fifth-grade teacher Brad Coulter introduced the game to Mead students six years ago, it was a small recess activity involving about 40 children. It has steadily grown into a full-scale league of nearly 200 students in grades three to six competing on 15 teams.
"It's our school thing," said Coulter, who adds that he's not aware of any other school with organized Frisbee on the same scale. "If you went to school with a Frisbee in your hand, they'd just go nuts."
Ultimate Frisbee - though clearly on the fringe of mainstream sports - thrives throughout the country in recreational leagues and tournaments. Dozens of Seattle-area teams compete year-round, and the annual Potlatch tournament in Redmond is reputed to be one of the biggest in the country, drawing 75 teams from around the country each July.
Ultimate blends rules from other sports into a distinct game. To score, players must advance the disk on the playing field into the opposing end zone, much like football. The disk is passed from one player to another, but a player cannot run with it.
"I like it better than basketball," said 11-year-old Alex Tank. "There's more teamwork in Ultimate than basketball."
Ultimate is also governed by an honor system: Players call their own fouls. If a dispute stops play, the players talk to determine the proper call.
Teams at Mead are selected by captains at the beginning of the fall and spring seasons. Each team, consisting of about 12 members, fields seven players at a time. During the season, a team plays all other teams at least once. At the season's end, teams are seeded in a double-elimination tournament whose winner earns the honor of playing a team of parents and teachers.
Usually, the adult team scores several quick points. But as the game wears on, the kids' better stamina turns the tide, Coulter said. "When you have young people that have skills and are in shape, it's a deadly combination," he said.
Although Coulter oversees games and sometimes stops play to make instructional points, he describes himself as an observer rather than a coach.
"I'm almost torn between giving them game time and teaching them skills," said Coulter, who learned the game in college and has been playing in a Seattle recreational league. "The kids really just want to play."
The kids' enthusiasm is apparent even before a disk is thrown. Some wear T-shirts emblazoned with a school logo; others carry custom-made Frisbees bearing a graphic of the school. As their teams take the field, they cheer loudly for their side.
Young people learn the game quickly, Coulter said. But most adults who start playing Ultimate have difficulty learning how to throw forehand, which is the basic throw in Ultimate. More daring players throw an overhand "hammer." With practice, kids quickly improve their throwing accuracy dramatically, he said.
Frisbee has made such a strong impression on Mead students that many have taken the game outside of school. Some get together on weekends for a neighborhood practice, others look for more opportunities to play when they leave Mead by forming their own teams or joining Seattle recreational leagues.
Some of the students who first played with Coulter six years ago have told him they are now choosing their colleges based on the strength of a particular school's Frisbee team.
But Coulter says he just wants to make sure the kids have fun while learning Frisbee fundamentals.
"It's not like it's a well-oiled machine, but it's come a really long
way," he said. "When they come to me, they're ready to play."