Hall of Fame

Felix Shardlow

Felix has been instrumental in the Mohawks since he joined Sussex University in 1998. He was a very committed member of the team during his 3 years as an undergraduate and once he graduated he got his coaching qualifications and has been club coach since!

Without him the club would have probably ceased to exist. He is not only a fantastic coach but also superb at getting new people involved in the sport. His enthusiasm for coaching all people, but particularly beginners, is second to none and he continues to do this for the club year in, year out.

His biggest coaching reward came during the year of 2010/2011 where he coached the Mohawks to victory in the Open Indoor National Championships and also Open, Women’s and Mixed Outdoor National Championships.

Waggle

Also known as James Houghton – but most of Mohawks, nay, UK Ultimate know him as Waggle, the guy who wonders around at tournaments making terrible jokes (ask him about the man with an orange for a head) and generally insulting everyone in a loveable way. It does sometimes backfire for him though – with the occasional bad response to a joke about people’s relatives and their professions (that poor Fire player’s mum…) and with far more people than he’d like knowing the story of “Waganello”. Waggle has been a pillar of the Mohawks since his captaining days and can still be found at Brighton trainings passing on his immense knowledge of ultimate, his love of the sport, and unfortunately his terrible and inappropriate sense of humour.

Bumfluff

Once, he had a real name. It was probably something boring like 'Will Foster'. But through his time at the Mohawks, Fluff has become more than 'Will Foster'. Whether it's knocking out his teeth at Aye Aye (and having no recollection of it), setting fire to his hands to 'surprise' a housemate, or losing his fake tooth within 24 hours of arriving at a fun touranment Fluff is always taking it further (naysayers would call this 'too far') for the sake of entertainment. Immortalising the new look Mohawks emblem on his leg equally deserves a mention, as does the fact that Mohawks just won't be the same without him.

Locks

Legend has it that once upon a time a drunken Mohawk, considerably worse for wear at a tournament party, staggered into the men’s toilets in a desperate attempt to not vomit all over the dancefloor. He proceeded to push open the first cubicle he found and throw up. Lots. Unfortunately for him, and the poor man minding his own business in that cubicle, it was not empty. For several moments, this Mohawk stared in shock and horror at what he’d just done. Realising he was probably about to get beaten up, he did what any sane person would do: punch the guy in the face and leg it. That Mohawk was Locks.

Franklin

Sometimes, the American pick-ups are the saviour of the Mohawks in a year lacking strong players. Sometimes, they have immense comedy value. On a journey to London Winter League in the bitter depths of er, winter, many Mohawks in a minibus were slightly lost in the centre of London. After several minutes debating the wisdom of asking for directions from passers-by, Franklin takes the initiative and winds down his window. "Excuse me," he asks the innocent bystander, "Do you know where we're going?" As far as 'theory of mind' fails go, it's a pretty good one.