It's another freezing Minneapolis winter. Got your Frisbee?

Jack Meehan disappeared as he went headfirst into a pile of snow to catch a Frisbee in Bryn Mawr Meadows Park, creating a cloud of powder around him. He scooped up the disc just before it hit the snow, scoring a point and raising cheers from his teammates.

"I better get on the cover for that!" Meehan joked to a friend after seeing a photographer capture his dramatic catch.

Meehan was one of 18 people who braved the cold for the pick-up game Saturday morning in the Minneapolis park. In fact, the fresh snow was an incentive to "lay out," or dive, for spectacular catches, they said.

"When there's snow out here, we hopefully start diving all over the place," said Matthew O'Brien one of the longtime players.

O'Brien added that he wanted to have the best layout catch of the day, but he wasn't sure if he could top Meehan's.

Saturday's edition of the game known as ultimate Frisbee is one of at least two pickup games that take place weekly in Minneapolis. They attract 15 to 20 people, even in the dead of winter. Many of the players have attended regularly for more than a year. And several acknowledged that their friends and family members raise their eyebrows when they hear about winter play.

"People that I tell are like, 'No way, that's ridiculous,' " said Michael Lewellen. "They're kind of right."

In ultimate Frisbee, teams of seven compete by passing the disc down the field, aiming to catch it in the end zone, similar to American football, with no stops between throws. The casual weekly games in Minneapolis get busier in the late spring and summer, with upward of 80 people attending.

Fewer make it out in the winter; the cold adds some difficulties. On Saturday, all players wore gloves to stop their hands from becoming numb. At times they jogged in place or waved their arms to keep warm. A few carried hand warmers. While the gloves are necessary, the added layer can affect the thrower's accuracy.

The ground can also vary from frozen, concrete-like dirt during a game Wednesday night to Saturday's snow that cushioned the falls after some inevitably slipped.

With a Minnesota Star Tribune photographer in attendance, some players were eager to make a diving catch for a spectacular shot. A portable speaker along the sideline played a mix of rock and hip-hop music as the players slid and stomped across the field, the city skyline in the distance.

During last Wednesday night's game at Martin Luther King Jr. Park, conditions were warmer but also rougher, given the absence of snow. Several players skinned their knees after kneeling or diving for a disc. One player jokingly described the surface as similar to a cheese grater.

While some might scoff at the idea of continuing grass-field sports outside during a snowy winter in Minneapolis, regulars said it's an important outlet after a long day of work, and a way to avoid cabin fever.

"If you're going to live in a place that's cold six months out of the year, you should find something to be passionate about and excited about when the weather gets cold," said Gavriel DePrenger-Gottfried, 35.

DePrenger-Gottfried said the snow leads to a more laid-back atmosphere since it slows players down slightly as they pick and choose when to exert energy.

"Winter ultimate, I think, is more egalitarian," DePrenger-Gottfried said. "Everyone brings their own strengths. You play with what you've got."

The pick-up games are less competitive than the organized ultimate leagues in the Twin Cities. But some view the gatherings as an important way to improve. Kyle Banks, 24, who played Saturday, said he plans to try out for the Minnesota Wind Chill, the state's professional ultimate team, next month.

"I'm still new to it, but I think I can be great at it," said Banks, who was wearing a Wind Chill jersey. "I just come out here and get as much reps and practice as I can."

Banks and other players also noted another reason they return to the fields each week: the welcoming nature of the ultimate community, which doesn't take itself too seriously.

"It's a good core group of people," said Aly Christensen. "Lots of people come and go as time goes on, but there still are those familiar faces that we see pretty much every year."