the disc, the dog bolts away . . . in the wrong direction. He’s apparently spotted a hot canine specimen behind his human, and he’s sniffing her butt instead of chasing down the disc. The frisbee lands yards away in the grass while the guy has to retrieve his pit bull.
“Beginner nerves,” Emmy says.
“Hopefully Bean’s not watching,” Jude says as he sits on Emmy’s other side. “They’re up third.”
After a few more unsuccessful attempts to capture the pit bull’s attention, the guy gives up. He shrugs dramatically for the crowd and leashes his dog. Everyone laughs and claps for his heroic efforts.
The second contestant is a thin middle-aged woman wearing long shorts and a wide brimmed visor. Her canine partner is a mostly white Aussie with black patches over the eyes and some freckles on the body. This dog seems more prepared. Most dogs, even the experienced ones, dance around excitedly, as if they pick up on the crowd’s energy and know they’re performing. This one stands calmly in front of her handler, keeping an eye on the blue disc she holds. The woman throws, and the Aussie takes off. The throw isn’t terribly long, and the dog catches it with ease.
“Hmm, they’re good for newbies,” Jude says.
The Aussie brings the disc back and drops it at the woman’s feet. She throws a second disc, longer this time. The dog still catches it with ease.
“Uh oh, they’re looking good,” Aaron says. “I smell a winner.”
Nisha smacks him on the arm. “Don’t say that. Stevie and Bean haven’t even gone yet.”
He raises an eyebrow. “If these two don’t make a mistake on their last throws, Stevie and Bean may not need to go.”
In a competition, pairs get sixty seconds to complete as many throws and catches as they can at distances up to about fifty yards. The longer the throw, the more points the team gets, and they’re awarded a bonus half point if the dog leaves the ground completely to catch the disc. Meadow does this with ease; Bean . . . not so much. But she’s new to it. catching the thing and bringing it back is a major accomplishment at the novice level.
Stevie has trained Bean using a stopwatch, trying to get her doing as many runs as she can in the time allotted. She usually averages about three or four. This lady and her dog are going to make it to five throws.
Aaron’s right. This pair will be hard to beat. But then, on the last throw, a breeze suddenly picks up, lifting the disc erratically at the end of the flight arc. The Aussie was running at a pace well-timed to catch the disc until it jumps, but she misses it, and the frisbee falls to the ground.
A groan of disappointment rises from the watching crowd, followed by applause for the pair. The woman waves in acknowledgement and rubs her dog affectionately when it returns with the disc.
A minute later, Stevie and Bean step to the line. I can tell right away Stevie’s anxious. She’s not terribly tall to begin with, but she seems to shrivel a little when she’s nervous. She pushes her wavy hair behind her ears and licks her lips. Then she leans down and whispers to Bean.
Bean looks nervy, too. Instead of standing steady, like the Aussie had, she’s hopping around Stevie. High energy isn’t necessarily a bad thing, I guess, since she’s about to take off running, but she also looks distracted. Not as bad as the pit bull, but still.
“C’mon, Beanie Weenie, you’ve got this,” I mutter.
Nisha snorts and leans around Aaron to grin at me. “Beanie Weenie?”
I shrug. “That’s Stevie’s nickname for her.”
Nisha chants. “Bean-ie Ween-ie, Bean-ie Ween-ie!”
The others pick up the chant, and Stevie looks over, flustered but smiling. The timer must start because she jerks, turns, and throws the disc.
It’s a shortish throw to start, something Emmy told Stevie to do so that Bean has a successful initial catch. Which she does. We all cheer, and confidence seems to infuse Stevie. She stands straighter and puts her shoulders back. Bean brings the disc back and miraculously drops it at Stevie’s feet. Stevie throws a second disc about twenty-five yards. Bean catches it easily.
She returns it, and Stevie throws a third time, the longest one yet, thirty-five yards. Bean leaves a little late, but she’s totally focused on the bright yellow disc.
It looks like second place is imminent until Bean stretches out long and snatches the disc before