A Single Example of The Deadball Rules
Why Continuing the Deadball Framework in Ultimate a Bad Idea
Why it matters
Let me distill a single, critical point about the Deadball rule structure in Ultimate Frisbee.
In exchange for a single, slight offensive disadvantage, players are granted the following allowances (that otherwise wouldn’t be permitted in a continuous action sport such as basketball):
They can take as many steps as needed to come to a stop after catching the disc, stopping as quickly as possible.
They can maintain possession even if momentum or pivoting takes them out of bounds.
They’re allowed to stand up after a layout catch—an act that, as stipulated in the rules, is literally a sanctioned travel.
The defender (marker) is not allowed to touch the disc, block it or strip it while the thrower is in possession of the disc.
They can catch the disc while in motion into the end zone and casually walk it back to the goal line—again, what would be a travel in any coherent rulebook.
While as a receiver, a player may be double or even triple teamed, but immediately upon reception (thus bringing the game into a deadball state), only one defensive player is allowed to defend this player.
And finally, they’re given the luxury of choosing which foot to pivot on—after they’ve stopped moving.
In return for all of this? The rules ask just one simple thing: Don’t move your pivot foot.
That’s it. Just hold your ground.
The Game Mechanics for Ultimate are based on the principle that the game action is in a dead state anytime that a player has possession of the disc and the deadball rules gives that player all seven of those above advantages. The entire structure of Ultimate is based on the thrower maintaining this dead state and not lifting or moving his pivot foot until after he has released the disc.
But even this minimal accountability is routinely ignored. The offense, already granted a massively leveraged position, consistently violates the pivot rule—what in other sports would be the equivalent of an illegal motion or false start penalty in football, a balk in baseball or a foot fault in tennis. It's not a minor infraction; it's a fundamental breakdown of game integrity, it’s an insult to mutual respect, it makes a mockery of fair play and it’s cheating.
Where is “The Basic Joy of Play” when virtually everyone cheats?
And yet, it’s not the exception—it’s the norm. Most players travel, and not just once per possession, but multiple times per reception. This one example calls into question the legitimacy of any and all results over the past 50 years of Ultimate Frisbee competition (and there are many other such examples).
The imbalance is staggering—and it completely undermines any pretense of fair play or disciplined execution. Where is the need to innovate or improvise when cheating is met with impunity? Observers commonly overturn completely legitimate traveling violation calls, further eroding away the sanctity of the game.
There is no clause—anywhere in the official rules—that permits or excuses traveling if it “doesn’t affect the play.” This is a community-created rationalization, not a rulebook-sanctioned principle.
Not to pick on Alex, because the extent of traveling in the game is so pervasive, but I already had this video produced and you can clearly see he changes his pivot foot on the play, resulting in an approximate 42” traveling violation.
This isn’t the exception, this is the rule in contemporary Ultimate Frisbee, and everyone knows it.
I really want to see some basketball players tear the pivot bit apart