The entire point starts with the pull, and it’s in my hands. As I walk towards the along the front of the endzone, I flip the frisbee over in my hands, flicking forward with my ring finger forcefully enough for it to spin three hundred and sixty degrees along an imaginary axis that runs between my palms, catching its momentum as it comes around.
A multitude of factors are going through my mind. How wet is the frisbee? How muddy? How windy is it? Which way is it blowing? How will it catch the edge of the frisbee? How do I need to release it in order to create that angle?
My favorite way to pull the frisbee is to walk all the way to the left sideline and release it with an inside out edge, almost pushing it as I do so and really flicking my wrist at the end to give it enough force and spin to really fly far. An outside-in backhand thrown by a right-handed player starts by moving to the right and then follows its edge trajectory back to the left if not given an opportunity to flatten out. That means that if I put too much of an edge on this throw, the pull will just fly out of bounds. I need to give it just enough of an edge to make sure it flies straight, but also not so much that it still turns back over and falls down in bounds to the right.
I’m ready. I wipe the inside of the frisbee off with my jersey one more time to make sure my hands don’t slip, and then I step backwards off the line for my run up. I see the other team raise their hand and I raise mine back to signify we’re both ready.
“Got a hand. Pull coming in three, two, one-”
The frisbee flies out of my hand. It holds it’s inside-out shape for a bit, then at it’s peak it levels out and dips back into play, just like I was hoping for. And now the point is underway.