"Oh. You're That Guy!"

John Smith's theory of "That Guy" is the skydiving equivalent of The Scarlet
Letter. After it's said it's followed by everybody around that guy
exchanging a series of knowing looks and nods, as they all back away a
couple of steps lest his stain be communicated to them. More on this later.

A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving. Lao Tzu.
Nathalie and I have spent 11 days using this philosophy, swanning about
Florida on the bikes, going whichever direction took us away from bad
weather, and towards the warmest ocean water we can find. Watched a couple
of sunrises, slept in a lot, drank Margaritas for lunch, went to the beach
everyday, sometimes twice a day, drank lots and lots of very good and
inexpensive wine, got stalked by a barracuda while snorkeling, which wasn't
a big thing 'cause he wasn't very big and I figured I could take take him if
I had to, and at the very least I could outswim Nathalie if it looked like I
was gonna lose. Then I watched him slice a fish about the size of a male
appendage in half and swallow it in 2 gulps so fast I almost missed it.

That's when I decided I'd had enough snorkeling. The usual vacation type
stuff. My liquid diet has been going well, so far I've lost 4 or 5 days.Most
of the days I haven't felt my age, in fact I often don't feel anything until
noon, and then it's time for a nap. It's the first time in years either one
of us has taken the time to actually r-e-l-a-x on a vacation. Again, I'm
living vicariously through myself. When we were in the keys I even bought
myself the straw cowboy hat I regret not picking up last year, and Nathalie
has taken to calling me "Crocodile Maulsby" whenever I have it on.

We're now at Z-Team 2K10, which could arguably be called C-team as the event
has been moved to Clewiston, on the edge of the everglades in the heart of
sugar cane and Alligator country. I thought the guy who gave me a briefing
was kidding about the 'Gators but I overheard a couple of the locals trading
stories about landing off the airport and spotting "little" ones on their
walk back. The consensus seems to be you don't have to worry unless it's
bigger than 4 feet long. I'm not much reassured. I guess it's the same as
dealing with a barracuda, you don't have to outrun it, you just have to
outrun whoever you're with. All the usual suspects are here, Joanne and
Marcel, Monique and Francois, (the parents of my 4-way teammate Josee),
Rhonda and her boyfriend Mike. She keeps intoducing him with "This is Mike.
He's a professional sailor" As she explained, he doesn't just fish, he hunts
as well. "After all, he caught a cougar!" We spent yesterday doing 20 way
skydives in the morning and 38 ways in the afternoon. Along the way we set a
new record for the largest formation seen in the sky over this Drop zone. I
must be doing well, I haven't been burped yet. I've usually been close to
the center or in the base where the organizer can keep an eye on me, and
it's a slot I have complete confidence I can fly

Until this morning. Last year at Z-Team there was a guy who was so out of
his league at the event that everybody was talking about "That Guy". He went
low, he floated and lifted his whole side, he collided with people, cut
people off, and generally displayed a complete lack of the skills required
to participate in this type of event. This morning Guy and TJ had us dirt
diving (planning and rehearsing the planned skydive on the ground) the 36
way we were going to do later today. It's going to be the base for the
80-ways planned for later on. I was moved over to the chase plane for the
first time, adding to my stress level because I would have a lot further to
go to get to my slot. I was going to be docking on the formation a lot
further back than I have been, but I still felt that I could do the job. I
was facing into the center of the formation, docked on TJ with my left arm
stuck out waiting for Guy to tell somebody to take a grip on me. When he
did, I looked to my left, straight at the face of ................. "That
Guy".

I loooked behind me to a grinning Marcel who was holding up an imaginary
noose above his head as he made choking sounds. Then I looked across to a
laughing Nathalie, and the smiles of everybody else who had been forced to
deal with the Albatross I had just been saddled with.

Sigh. Life Is Crap.

Then they gave us our slots for the 80 ways and not only was "That Guy" not
going to be anywhere near me for the really big stuff, I found out I would
be following Christian Roy out the door. 4 Years ago at the Canadian record
I spent 3 days diving like hell and flying like fuck as I followed Christian
down to my slot. I did what he did, when he did it, and made my slot on
every dive. I'm still stressed, but I feel I've been thrown a lifeline. I've
never done a BIG big-way camp, and the dives that are planned for the
weekend will be bigger than anything I've done before. Everybody makes
mistakes, the trick is to make them when nobody is looking. But at an event
like this nothing escapes the scrutiny of the plane captains at the video
debrief.

We're just about to come off a weather hold and It looks like I will have to
go up and deal with "That Guy" today, but hopefully that will be the only
chance he gets to make me look bad. Guy has told us several times he will
cut anybody from the 80-ways who can't make the grade.

Crazy Larry, Z-Team 2010, Clewiston Florida.