The time has come, though it still seems like it should be 6 months away, for me to jam all my stuff into suitcases and ride off into the sunset in a blaze of glory. it seems like yesterday that i was walking through the Hamburg airport, finding Jan and Timo, and starting this whole experience.
the final games have been played, the season is over, the stats are up:
in both leagues combined (42 games):
HITTING
163 PA 137 AB 73 H 16 2B 5 3B 6 HR 52 R 67 RBI 10 K 16 BB 5 IBB 21 SB .533 AVG .854 SLG .558 OBP 1.412 OPS
PITCHING
33.2 IP 25 H 18 R 12 ER 44 K 26 BB 2 W 1 L 4 SV 3.25 ERA
Pitching could have been a little better, but hitting was pretty damn good considering i havent hit in 5 years and i've never hit with wood.
Though baseball was the avenue that got me here, and the job that paid me, it is not what i will remember most. Yeah, i will remember stealing home, horrible umpires, my last pitch being a walk off homer, and throwing a guy out at the plate and sprinting in to jump on the pile in Hamburg, but when i look back at these past 6 months, thats not what stands out in my mind. I will forever remember the crazy parties, as well as the low key nights. I will remember the beer...God, will i remember the beer. but more than anything i will remember the people that accompanied the nights and the beers. from the kids at the schools (most of them anyway) to the Wild Farmer families, from opponents to friends, everyone has been nothing but awesome.
and in much the same way as my first night here, we will be meeting at the sport house tonight to celebrate and have a few farewell drinks. but instead of talking about past memories and experiences in the States and in Baseball, we will laugh and reminisce about shared memories of the past 6 months. it will not be a conversation litered with phrases like, "this one time..." or "back in the States..." like it was in the beginning. No, this will be a conversation filled with phrases that conjure up feelings of lasting friendship, belonging, and familiarity like "Hey, you remember when we..." and "it was so funny when you..." it is conversations like these that i will miss, it is nights like these that i will miss, it is people like these that i will miss.
Dohren, you have been good to me, given me another chance to play baseball, a chance to see another part of the world, and friends that will last a life time. and for that I thank you.
Tschuss Ne,
A-Ron
P.S. I'd like to thank everyone that is reading this right now and has followed along with me on my journey. knowing that there were people out there that enjoyed the contents was what kept me writing.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
home stretch
things are pretty busy this week. we play our last 2nd man's game this weekend in Keil, and i guess i need to start packing up my stuff at some point. But im really in no mood to pack, i've packed up all my stuff a total of 7 times already since ive graduated and each time i seem to accumulate more shit. and this 8th time will be no different. i've gotten new stuff since ive been here so im going to have to leave some things here to make room. that should be fun. I really just do not like packing, especially when i have to worry about weight restrictions and extra baggage fees and everything. but its got to be done at some point so, all this complaining isnt helping me at all.
last weekend was one of the biggest parties of the year...i feel like i say that about every party we have, but this time i really mean it. the Erntefest (pronounced antefest meaning harvest party) is the last party of the year here in Dohren. it is in celebration of the harvest being over and celebrating a good crop. it started as just as a ritual for the farmers to get together and talk about their season and share tips and whatever, but the Dohren Youth Group quickly turned that into a party and a way to make some money for the club. so friday night, everyone that worked on setting everything up comes to the tent and has a little get together...you know, to make sure the keg taps are working and that everyone knows how to pour a proper cocktail... and since most of the guys on the baseball team are in the youth group, i was invited to join in the festivities and who would i be to turn down the invitation.
Saturday is the real party though. the crew gets there at 11 to get the food out, set up the booths for the pies and cakes and the DJ and warms up the dance floor. a little before 2 the lawn outside the tent is filled with tractors and trailers that have been decorated but different groups and families. there was a pirate float, a "man powered float" (that one had penises drawn all over it) all the floats are blaring different music from expensive sound systems, offering different drinks than the next, and battling for the title of best float. the best float wins a big prize with drinks and other things. at 2 there is a police led parade around dohren to show off the hard work put into the floats and to let the rest of the town know that the party is about to start. people lined the streets, kids especially, awaiting candy to be thrown from the floats. our float was too busy worrying about drinking to be bothered by throwing candy, but we were the lead float so we saw our function as the signal flare, introducing the other floats.
we got back to the tent around 4 and continued the festivities until the party officially began at 8. Toby, Brocky, and I wet to burgerking around 7:30 and grabbed a couple of burgers before heading back to the party. if we had gotten there 5 minutes earlier we wouldnt have had to pay cover, but since they had set up a booth at the gate, i got roped into paying 5 bucks to get in the door and they made me finish my coke and burger before i could come in....that really sucked because i wanted to save that burger for later. we partied and danced late into the night, until the DJ shut down the music and the lights came on. then we went to Tina's and had another beer.
Sunday we, me and jan, woke up on Tina's couches at 1 so we decided to take off and get back to the house. plus Jan had a soccer game he had to get to. as we were walking down the street toward home, comeone pulled out of the driveway headed in our direction. it wasnt a hassenpflug car, it was one i didnt recogize, but i recognized the guy sitting in the passenger seat. it was Thies and one of thier soccer teammates coming to pick up Jan for the game. better him than me, because that is the last thing i would have wanted to do, run around for 90 minutes slamming my head into a ball. no thank you.
with only 6 days left before i come back to the good ol US of A, the reality of this dream being over is starting to set in. as i'm coming up on my last of everything, my last weekend, my last pizza day, my last practice, i'm starting to come out of REM sleep, back through the cycles to consciousness. today was supposed to be my last day at school, but it was cancelled because the class was "out on a walk." wish i would have known about that so i could have slept in, but i had to get to school, sit and wait for them, knock on a window and ask another teacher where the class was before finally being told they were on a walk. and since David took me to school on his way to Tostedt, i was going to have to walk home. Luckily David saw me walking and picked me up, otherwise that would have sucked.
That is one thing i will not miss about being here. the Diekhof School was awful. the kids were little heathens. and the teachers would just stand there and watch it all happening. they watched as the kids would take balls and just throw them all over the field, watched as this one little girl, the devil reencarnated, took my jacket and ran off with it. she had been jumping all over me and tony all day and then after class when we were picking everything up, she swooped in and snagged my jacket. she tried shaking up a drink and having Tony open it. she was just horrible and the teacher never said anything, never did anything, just stood there watching it all.
in another class, there was a kid running over other kids, hogging the ball, yelling at his teammates. so then when the other kids on his team stopped giving him the ball, he started running them over too. this led to some shoving and teacher just calmly tried to talk to the kid. he was yelling back at her, at the top of his lungs. im sure it wasnt anything nice, but she just stood there like she had taken care of it. finally i just jumped in and said that we needed to take a break, let everyone cool down and she just looked at me like i was stupid. like there was no need to seperate these kids before something happened. so we sat in silence for 10 minutes or so, and that same kid was still yaping, chirping at the teacher. and whenever i would try to say something about the game we were playing, they would never translate and make things easier. they would let me struggle to show them how the game should go, struggle when the kids asked me questions. going to that school was never a good experience.
I am excited to get home though, see the family and friends, listen to some good country music. i havent heard county music in 6 months and its starting to get to me. and i know that there have been a bunch of new songs come out since i left, so its going to be like christmas when i get home and turn on the radio. and the first weeeknd i am home, it is the country music festival in chicago.
A-Ron
last weekend was one of the biggest parties of the year...i feel like i say that about every party we have, but this time i really mean it. the Erntefest (pronounced antefest meaning harvest party) is the last party of the year here in Dohren. it is in celebration of the harvest being over and celebrating a good crop. it started as just as a ritual for the farmers to get together and talk about their season and share tips and whatever, but the Dohren Youth Group quickly turned that into a party and a way to make some money for the club. so friday night, everyone that worked on setting everything up comes to the tent and has a little get together...you know, to make sure the keg taps are working and that everyone knows how to pour a proper cocktail... and since most of the guys on the baseball team are in the youth group, i was invited to join in the festivities and who would i be to turn down the invitation.
Saturday is the real party though. the crew gets there at 11 to get the food out, set up the booths for the pies and cakes and the DJ and warms up the dance floor. a little before 2 the lawn outside the tent is filled with tractors and trailers that have been decorated but different groups and families. there was a pirate float, a "man powered float" (that one had penises drawn all over it) all the floats are blaring different music from expensive sound systems, offering different drinks than the next, and battling for the title of best float. the best float wins a big prize with drinks and other things. at 2 there is a police led parade around dohren to show off the hard work put into the floats and to let the rest of the town know that the party is about to start. people lined the streets, kids especially, awaiting candy to be thrown from the floats. our float was too busy worrying about drinking to be bothered by throwing candy, but we were the lead float so we saw our function as the signal flare, introducing the other floats.
we got back to the tent around 4 and continued the festivities until the party officially began at 8. Toby, Brocky, and I wet to burgerking around 7:30 and grabbed a couple of burgers before heading back to the party. if we had gotten there 5 minutes earlier we wouldnt have had to pay cover, but since they had set up a booth at the gate, i got roped into paying 5 bucks to get in the door and they made me finish my coke and burger before i could come in....that really sucked because i wanted to save that burger for later. we partied and danced late into the night, until the DJ shut down the music and the lights came on. then we went to Tina's and had another beer.
Sunday we, me and jan, woke up on Tina's couches at 1 so we decided to take off and get back to the house. plus Jan had a soccer game he had to get to. as we were walking down the street toward home, comeone pulled out of the driveway headed in our direction. it wasnt a hassenpflug car, it was one i didnt recogize, but i recognized the guy sitting in the passenger seat. it was Thies and one of thier soccer teammates coming to pick up Jan for the game. better him than me, because that is the last thing i would have wanted to do, run around for 90 minutes slamming my head into a ball. no thank you.
with only 6 days left before i come back to the good ol US of A, the reality of this dream being over is starting to set in. as i'm coming up on my last of everything, my last weekend, my last pizza day, my last practice, i'm starting to come out of REM sleep, back through the cycles to consciousness. today was supposed to be my last day at school, but it was cancelled because the class was "out on a walk." wish i would have known about that so i could have slept in, but i had to get to school, sit and wait for them, knock on a window and ask another teacher where the class was before finally being told they were on a walk. and since David took me to school on his way to Tostedt, i was going to have to walk home. Luckily David saw me walking and picked me up, otherwise that would have sucked.
That is one thing i will not miss about being here. the Diekhof School was awful. the kids were little heathens. and the teachers would just stand there and watch it all happening. they watched as the kids would take balls and just throw them all over the field, watched as this one little girl, the devil reencarnated, took my jacket and ran off with it. she had been jumping all over me and tony all day and then after class when we were picking everything up, she swooped in and snagged my jacket. she tried shaking up a drink and having Tony open it. she was just horrible and the teacher never said anything, never did anything, just stood there watching it all.
in another class, there was a kid running over other kids, hogging the ball, yelling at his teammates. so then when the other kids on his team stopped giving him the ball, he started running them over too. this led to some shoving and teacher just calmly tried to talk to the kid. he was yelling back at her, at the top of his lungs. im sure it wasnt anything nice, but she just stood there like she had taken care of it. finally i just jumped in and said that we needed to take a break, let everyone cool down and she just looked at me like i was stupid. like there was no need to seperate these kids before something happened. so we sat in silence for 10 minutes or so, and that same kid was still yaping, chirping at the teacher. and whenever i would try to say something about the game we were playing, they would never translate and make things easier. they would let me struggle to show them how the game should go, struggle when the kids asked me questions. going to that school was never a good experience.
I am excited to get home though, see the family and friends, listen to some good country music. i havent heard county music in 6 months and its starting to get to me. and i know that there have been a bunch of new songs come out since i left, so its going to be like christmas when i get home and turn on the radio. and the first weeeknd i am home, it is the country music festival in chicago.
A-Ron
Friday, September 18, 2009
Sumthin Sirius!
I packed my bag the night before, there were 3 changes of boxers and socks, one pair of jeans, and 4 t-shirts. that’s all I figured I’d need for a 5 day trip through Europe, well that and the pair of shorts and long sleeved t-shirt I wore on the day it all began. I mean it’s the first weekend in September, still warm in America, why should it be any different any where in Europe. This may not sound like a lot, and it barely filled half of the backpack that I packed it in, but in my mind, anything else would have been overkill and just more weight. The limit for a carry-on for RyanAir is 54cm x 40cm x 20cm and it cant weight more than 10 kg. that’s not a very much stuff at all and I figured I was leaving myself room so I could buy something.
So it started Wednesday morning at 7:45. After a quick drive to the hamburg bus station, we boarded the bus headed for Lubeck airport, just outside of hamburg. Lubeck airport consists of nothing more than a huge tent and a runway. Which makes sense when you consider we paid 5 euros for this flight, there really was no overhead that they were trying to cover with ticket prices. But at the same time, considering we paid 5 bucks for this ticket, the airport being just a giant tent isn’t something that brings a comforting feeling to the stomach. We joked about going out to the runway and having to help the pilot duct tape the wings and throw the propeller…but really we were only half joking. We weren’t real sure what to expect. So when we walked onto the plane to see blue leather seats and pillows for everyone, we were pleasantly surprised. It was probably the nicest plane I’ve ever been on.
After a 1 hour flight through Germany, we landed outside of Frankfurt at the Frankfurt-Hahn airport. This place is about 150 km from Frankfurt though it shares half the same name, so despite an 8 hour layover, we couldn’t make it to the actual city. But much to our delight, there was a bar that served Weizenbier. 8 hours goes by pretty fast when your sipping down beers. Tony had to smoke a cigarette so we stood outside near the arrivals gate and watched as a big black Lincoln navigator pulled up and a big black dude got out. He was wearing a jersey of what I guess was some XFL team because the name on the back was “Sumthin
Sirius” and his number was ½. This became a popular saying throughout the rest of the trip.
As we settled into our seats in the back row of the plane, I was fully expecting to take a nap through the trip. But there were 2 guys sitting in front of us that worked for NATO and so we talked to them about Germany and baseball and where we should go in Rome considering we were only going to be there for a day. They said it was impossible to see everything in Rome in less than 3 days, but recommended the Colosseum and the Vatican, which is great because that’s where we were headed to begin with. They also gave us the name of a restaurant called Buttero, which means cowboy in Italian, that makes the best steak in all of Rome. It was close to our hostel but we didn’t have time that night or the next day to go there, but if I ever get back, I will look for it. We flew right over the city as we were on approach and got to see the city all lit up at night, and it was great to have those guys next to us so they could point everything out.
We landed and were first off the plane. We had to hurry and get to the bus terminal and buy a ticket that would take us to the actual city. Once at the main train/bus station, we headed to the hostel, checked in, and put our stuff away. It was about 11 pm so we went out and tried to find a bar or pub that was open on Wednesday night, but had to settle for a street side shack with some tables and chairs around it that called itself a bar. On our walk to the hostel we passed a few liquor stores and groceries and I all the beer I had seen was Peroni, so I figured this was the beer of Rome. And hey when in Rome…(I had to throw that in there somewhere) so we got a couple Pernois and sat down. It was alright, not the best beer I’ve ever had, but it went down. The next round was a Budweiser, an American Budweiser. When I was in the States, bud heavy always seemed to have a lot of taste, but now, it just doesn’t taste the way I remember it, I don’t know if you can describe a beer as bland, but that’s what it was. It just didn’t have the taste I remembered it having. I hope this is not a sign of things to come when I get home and drink American beers again.
We started the morning at the Colosseum, taking pictures and walking around, looking at what we’ve only seen in pictures. That things is much bigger in person, when you can look straight up and see the big arches and high walls. We were on a bit of a time crunch, seeing as how we had to walk across Rome to see the Vatican, so we couldn’t go in and take a tour or anything like that.
Looking at the map, we figured out a route that didn’t take us too much out of the way and we could go by and see the Pantheon as well. As we walked we saw a big museum with horses and all kind of big brass statutes in front of it. I’m not real sure which museum it was but the architecture was amazing. After a few hours of walking in 85 degree and 90 % humidity weather, my shirt was soaked with sweat and my feet were killing me. But we finally made it to the Vatican at around 1:00. I’ve seen pictures of the area in front of the church packed shoulder to shoulder with people, but on this day the people were relatively sparse. There were maybe 5 thousand people there but nothing close to the hundreds of thousands it can hold. We got to go as close as possible to the church without actually paying for a tour. They were setting up for some big event, there were huge Panasonic televisions everywhere and they were setting up something at the pillar as well, so there were barricades all over the place.
After lunch, we headed toward the bus station so we could get to the airport in time for our flight to Paris. Since we were there early, we took a sooner bus to the airport, this proved to be a good decision entertainment wise. We got to see a homeless man argue with another bum about lord knows what, but the police had to come and break it up. I wish I would have gotten pictures of this but I was afraid the more aggressive of the hobos would come attack me with his bottle of booze, so I kept the camera in my pocket. But the fun didn’t stop there. On the bus ride, about halfway to the airport, I heard the engine revving really loud when the driver would shift from 2nd gear. Since I had an aisle seat, I leaned over and watched as this guy tried to get the transmission into 3rd gear. For some reason, it wouldn’t go into gear, so he tried to just take it straight to 4th. 4th wouldn’t catch either, so he tried 5th, but that one would engage either. By this time we had lost speed so he put it back into 2nd. Again he tried to go into 3rd with no luck, and 4th, and 5th, so he was forced to go back into 2nd just to keep the bus moving at 20 mph. this went on for a good 15 minutes before he finally put it in 6th gear, and amazingly this worked, the bus rattled and sputtered for about a km but finally it picked up RPMs and we broke 30 mph just in time to pull into the airport parking lot. Tony later went out to smoke and said that they had gotten a different bus out there.
I had to change my shirt before getting on the plane because I had sweat rings around my shoulders where my back pack had been all day, and I didn’t want people to get the wrong impression of me. We again took our seats on the back of plane so we could make a clean getaway upon arrival in Paris. We flew into Paris at night, so the whole city was lit up, I couldn’t see the Eiffel tower but Tony said he saw the light on top of the tower from his window seat. We finally got to the city around 11 pm and still had to walk to our hostel about 8 km away. We knew that we were right on the other side of the Eiffel Tower from where we got dropped off so that was our marker, walk toward the tower. As we walked, it became apparent that we were in the nicer part of town. There were boutiques and nice restaurants lining the clean streets and then we turned the corner and there it was. Lit up like a Christmas tree, lighthouse style beacon radiating from atop, the Eiffel Tower stood out like a white guy in a 100 m dash. As we got closer and closer, the true size of the Tower became more and more real. I guess I never realized just how big it is, much like every other world monument that I’ve come across in my life. And seeing it all lit up at night was an amazing sight.
After a few turns…and turn-arounds we finally got to our hostel, the 3 ducks. It has a bar attached to it, so we sat there and had a few brews before calling it a night. The Eiffel tower tours start at 9:30 so we figured getting there at 9 would put us close to the front of the line…we were mistaken. We were about 300 people back when we got there. I’ve heard of people sometimes waiting 5 hours to get up in the tower, and I was willing to wait, but not that long. But surprisingly enough, an hour after we got in line, we were up on the 2nd level, about to go to the top. They move people through that line!
After making it back down the tower in the diagonally moving elevator, we took off for the Notre Dame. Along the way we decided to hit up the MickyD’s and grab some grub. We walked toward the Notre Dame, thinking there had to be one somewhere and that is would magically pop out of no where and smack us in the face…we were right. The golden arches shone through in between the lamp posts and hordes of people and drew us in like bears to honey. On the way, we passed St. Michael’s, another big church in Paris that we had no idea we were even close to. Lucky for us, the McDonalds was close to the subway station we needed to get on to take us to the Notre Dame.
After walking around in front of the Notre Dame for a few minutes, and taking pictures of the kid feeding the birds out of his hand, we took off for the cemetery. Why the cemetery you ask. Jim Morrison is buried in Paris, at one of the big cemeteries so we decided to check it out as well. Now I was expecting a normal cemetery complete with head stones and the like, but what we found was a vast array of family monuments set up hundreds of years ago to house the remains of all that shared a surname. And im not talking small pieces of granite here either, these things were huge, like 20 ft high by 10 wide. So we looked at the map and found out where ol’ Jimbo was buried and headed that way. We weren’t quite sure we were in the right place, except for all the people stand around talking. And there, in between a couple of giant monuments, was a small head stone that read “James Morrison” … and whatever years, I don’t remember. We snapped a few quick pics and headed out, off to the station to hop a train to Amsterdam.
All of our travel to this point has been superb, we havent missed anything, havent been in the wrong place, we’ve cruised through these counties with not so much as the slightest inconvenience. So obviously this is where shit hit’s the fan. This is the one ticket we didn’t book together, sitting at the same computer. Tony handed his ticket to the man at the door of the train and he told him that he would need to go to the front ( we were in the very back at this point) and he told me to go into this door and take my seat to the left. I found seat 73 and sat down for 10 minutes before an elderly man came into the train and began walking my way. He looked at me as though he needed me to get up and allow him to take his spot next to the window, but this was not exactly the case. He said that he and his wife were supposed to be sitting next to each other and that I was not in the right car, we were in car 28 and I was supposed to be in 18. What a lying sack of $#!t that guy at the door was. So I grabbed my bag and began walking toward the front of the train. I got as far as car 24 before I found an employee of the train and I asked him to help me find my seat, though I figured I’d just have to keep going in the same direction for a few more cars. But that’s when he looked at my ticket and told me that I didn’t have a seat on this train. The conversation went as follows:
\Me: excuse me, is this the way to my seat?
Pierre: let me see your ticket. Sir, you don’t have a seat on this train.
Me: what do you mean? this train is going to Amsterdam right?
Pierre: no this train is going to Cologne.
Me: but the guy at door 28 looked at my ticket and told me to get on. Are you sure this isn’t going to Amsterdam?
Pierre: yes sir, this train is going to…just a sec (sticks his head around the corner and speaks in French, then turns back to me) Sir this train is indeed going to Cologne, and you do not have a seat on this train. You will have to wait until we get to Bruxsels and change trains there.
Me: what do you mean change trains? My tickets says Amsterdam and the marquee said this is the train I need to be on.
Pierre: Sir you are going to have to wait until we get to Bruxels, get off there and change trains. Now if you will excuse me, I have to get the food ready for 1st class.
So now I’m freaking out, Tony is lord knows where, I dontt have a cell phone and neither does he, so I cant call him to tell him that we have to get off the train and get on another one. So I take off in the same direction, looking for the head of curly hair leaned back against the seat, taking a nap. As I pass from car to car, I notice that ive entered into 1st class, I know tony didn’t get a first class ticket, but I had no idea of know what happened after we parted ways at the back of the bus platform. I walked until the end, car 19, so I turned and walked back the other way, past 24, the bar car, and all the way back up to 28 where I originally sat…still no tony. Now im really worried because I doubt he knows whats going on either and we have no way to get a hold of each other. Im thinking that once I get there, ill get off the train, buy a ticket to Amsterdam and meet tony there, at a sports bar we talked about going to to watch opening weekend of college football season.
As we were pulling into the station, Pierre came over to me and said that what I needed to do was to get off the train there and go to the first train, that was the one going to Amsterdam. So I got off the train and began walking toward the front, this is when I noticed that this train was actually 3 separate trains put together to make the trek to bruxels, before parting and going separate ways. This was a huge sigh of relief as I got onto the right train and promptly took my seat in 73. Now I still wasn’t sure that Tony was on this train, but I figured he was headed in the right direction seeing as how he was given proper instructions the first time around.
I was on the very front car of the train so when we got off in Amsterdam I stood, waiting for him to come to me from wherever it was that he was sitting. A couple of minutes passed and no one was left on the train, and still no Tony. I watched as the doors closed on the train and it started to pull away. This is when Tony came walking around the bend in the platform that was hidden by the train, much to my relief. He had been on the very back of the front car, I was near the front, and he had gotten off through the back door and started walking toward the back of the train looking for me. (I had gotten off the front door of the 1st car and had just stood there) Anyhow, we were both there and ready to get the party started.
We made it to the hostel, checked in, and headed to get some food and watch opening weekend of college football at the American sports bar in Liedersplein. The only game that was on was Georgia vs. Oklahoma State. We were not the only ones in the bar however. There was a big soccer match between Ecuador and some other south American country, and I was kicking myself for not having my Ecuador jersey on. I would have played that for all it was worth and tried to get some free drinks out of it, that’s for sure. They ended up losing, so my Ecuadorian comrades were not happy campers at the final whistle. As we were leaving the bar, we ran into a guy from Whales who was passing out cards for a pub crawl that goes on every night there in the area. We already had plans for Saturday night so we told him that we would be back on Sunday to see what it was all about. He gave us each a card that got us a dollar off admission, or a free t-shirt, whichever we wanted. But we hopped a train back to the red light district and spent the rest of our night there.
Sunday, we woke up and walked around a little bit, looking at souvenir shops and stuff. But we soon realized that they all sold the same stuff for the same price and it was pointless to go into another one, so what did we do…we found a bar and started drinking. We had a few hours to kill before the start of the pub crawl so we started early by have a few brews and watching cricket. We watched an entire match to 250 runs and tried to figure out the scoring system and some of the rules. After watching that match, I feel I at least have a better understanding of the game.
The pub crawl started at 8 so we hopped a train back to the Leidersplein and headed to the first bar. The 20 Euro entry fee got us free vodka shots all night, a free beer at each of the 6 bars, free entry to 2 dance clubs, and a free t-shirt…not a bad gig I’d say. The night started off pretty relaxed, just drinking beers and a few vodka shot, but as the night progressed, so too did the craziness. We forewent the beers and just had vodka and danced the night away…this made for a great hangover the next day.
On the bus on the way back to Hamburg, there was a guy that would not stop talking the entire 6 hours. He was talking to whoever would listen and about anything under the sun. at one point I heard him telling…for those of you playing along at home, he was speaking English, I haven’t miraculously learned fluent German or anything…a woman about a group of scientists that is trying to debunk Evolution. The best part of this story happened at a rest stop where the bus was turned off, so I was able to hear the entire explanation. It goes as follows:
“so these scientists have looked at fossil records and gathered some data and they have evidence that proves that Evolution isn’t the answer for how the world came to be. What happened was that the gravitational pull of the earth used to be much, much stronger, and every element on the periodic chart is actually a metal. so with increased gravity, it all condensed down and created new compounds that led to living things. Now these living things were much, much bigger than we are today, because the increase in gravity brought more elements together and was able to hold them together. This is where the dinosaurs come from. But [something] happed to throw earth farther away from the sun, which caused the gravity to weaken and therefore the bigger animals could not survive, because their internal workings couldn’t handle the decrease in pressure. Now the surprising thing in all this is that there were actually humans alive at this time, giant humans. They have actually found human footprints next to dinosaur prints that suggest that humans were 18 ft tall. My buddy was walking along the beach one day, when something washed up on land. He picked it up, im kidding you not, and it was a human skull. It measured 36 in around. He actually held this human head from millions of years ago in his hands. They have found pieces of these skulls and human bones in other places as well. They have actually pieced these ancient humans together and found that they sometimes had 36 fingers and toes, and extra limbs that have disappeared from the current gene pool. So as generations of humans were born into this environment with less gravity, they shrank, lost these extra appendages, and eventually over time became closer to the what we look like today.”
The woman he was talking to seemed pretty skeptical but she kept asking him questions about I, I think just to see what he would say next. As the bus started up and we took off, he was talking something about a house cat and a lion being one gene different from one another and something about genes switching on and off through time. I couldn’t really hear over the hum of the bus and the passing traffic. But I got a nice science lesson on the way home and now I feel a whole lot smarter….(sarcasm oozing off the page right here)
When we got to Hamburg, we had no cash, just a credit card and much to our delight, the ticket machine doesn’t take credit cards! And our phones are dead! And its midnight! I was able to turn my phone on and get Luis’s number and call on the phone of the guy that works at the Chinese buffet in the train station. If you are reading this, which I highly doubt, Thank you, you are a life saver. Luis came and picked us up and took us back to his house to crash for the night. It just so happened that Florida State was playing Miami in a Monday night college football game, which started at 1 am local time, so we watched as the U upset Florida State in what will go down as one of the great games in the cross-state rivalry. It came down to the last play of the game.
The next morning we got up and caught the train back to Tostedt and had to walk the 7 km back to Dohren. But it was great to be home.
We walked somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 km in 4 days and my feet still hurt.
That trip was Sumthin Sirius!
A-Ron
So it started Wednesday morning at 7:45. After a quick drive to the hamburg bus station, we boarded the bus headed for Lubeck airport, just outside of hamburg. Lubeck airport consists of nothing more than a huge tent and a runway. Which makes sense when you consider we paid 5 euros for this flight, there really was no overhead that they were trying to cover with ticket prices. But at the same time, considering we paid 5 bucks for this ticket, the airport being just a giant tent isn’t something that brings a comforting feeling to the stomach. We joked about going out to the runway and having to help the pilot duct tape the wings and throw the propeller…but really we were only half joking. We weren’t real sure what to expect. So when we walked onto the plane to see blue leather seats and pillows for everyone, we were pleasantly surprised. It was probably the nicest plane I’ve ever been on.
After a 1 hour flight through Germany, we landed outside of Frankfurt at the Frankfurt-Hahn airport. This place is about 150 km from Frankfurt though it shares half the same name, so despite an 8 hour layover, we couldn’t make it to the actual city. But much to our delight, there was a bar that served Weizenbier. 8 hours goes by pretty fast when your sipping down beers. Tony had to smoke a cigarette so we stood outside near the arrivals gate and watched as a big black Lincoln navigator pulled up and a big black dude got out. He was wearing a jersey of what I guess was some XFL team because the name on the back was “Sumthin
Sirius” and his number was ½. This became a popular saying throughout the rest of the trip.
As we settled into our seats in the back row of the plane, I was fully expecting to take a nap through the trip. But there were 2 guys sitting in front of us that worked for NATO and so we talked to them about Germany and baseball and where we should go in Rome considering we were only going to be there for a day. They said it was impossible to see everything in Rome in less than 3 days, but recommended the Colosseum and the Vatican, which is great because that’s where we were headed to begin with. They also gave us the name of a restaurant called Buttero, which means cowboy in Italian, that makes the best steak in all of Rome. It was close to our hostel but we didn’t have time that night or the next day to go there, but if I ever get back, I will look for it. We flew right over the city as we were on approach and got to see the city all lit up at night, and it was great to have those guys next to us so they could point everything out.
We landed and were first off the plane. We had to hurry and get to the bus terminal and buy a ticket that would take us to the actual city. Once at the main train/bus station, we headed to the hostel, checked in, and put our stuff away. It was about 11 pm so we went out and tried to find a bar or pub that was open on Wednesday night, but had to settle for a street side shack with some tables and chairs around it that called itself a bar. On our walk to the hostel we passed a few liquor stores and groceries and I all the beer I had seen was Peroni, so I figured this was the beer of Rome. And hey when in Rome…(I had to throw that in there somewhere) so we got a couple Pernois and sat down. It was alright, not the best beer I’ve ever had, but it went down. The next round was a Budweiser, an American Budweiser. When I was in the States, bud heavy always seemed to have a lot of taste, but now, it just doesn’t taste the way I remember it, I don’t know if you can describe a beer as bland, but that’s what it was. It just didn’t have the taste I remembered it having. I hope this is not a sign of things to come when I get home and drink American beers again.
We started the morning at the Colosseum, taking pictures and walking around, looking at what we’ve only seen in pictures. That things is much bigger in person, when you can look straight up and see the big arches and high walls. We were on a bit of a time crunch, seeing as how we had to walk across Rome to see the Vatican, so we couldn’t go in and take a tour or anything like that.
Looking at the map, we figured out a route that didn’t take us too much out of the way and we could go by and see the Pantheon as well. As we walked we saw a big museum with horses and all kind of big brass statutes in front of it. I’m not real sure which museum it was but the architecture was amazing. After a few hours of walking in 85 degree and 90 % humidity weather, my shirt was soaked with sweat and my feet were killing me. But we finally made it to the Vatican at around 1:00. I’ve seen pictures of the area in front of the church packed shoulder to shoulder with people, but on this day the people were relatively sparse. There were maybe 5 thousand people there but nothing close to the hundreds of thousands it can hold. We got to go as close as possible to the church without actually paying for a tour. They were setting up for some big event, there were huge Panasonic televisions everywhere and they were setting up something at the pillar as well, so there were barricades all over the place.
After lunch, we headed toward the bus station so we could get to the airport in time for our flight to Paris. Since we were there early, we took a sooner bus to the airport, this proved to be a good decision entertainment wise. We got to see a homeless man argue with another bum about lord knows what, but the police had to come and break it up. I wish I would have gotten pictures of this but I was afraid the more aggressive of the hobos would come attack me with his bottle of booze, so I kept the camera in my pocket. But the fun didn’t stop there. On the bus ride, about halfway to the airport, I heard the engine revving really loud when the driver would shift from 2nd gear. Since I had an aisle seat, I leaned over and watched as this guy tried to get the transmission into 3rd gear. For some reason, it wouldn’t go into gear, so he tried to just take it straight to 4th. 4th wouldn’t catch either, so he tried 5th, but that one would engage either. By this time we had lost speed so he put it back into 2nd. Again he tried to go into 3rd with no luck, and 4th, and 5th, so he was forced to go back into 2nd just to keep the bus moving at 20 mph. this went on for a good 15 minutes before he finally put it in 6th gear, and amazingly this worked, the bus rattled and sputtered for about a km but finally it picked up RPMs and we broke 30 mph just in time to pull into the airport parking lot. Tony later went out to smoke and said that they had gotten a different bus out there.
I had to change my shirt before getting on the plane because I had sweat rings around my shoulders where my back pack had been all day, and I didn’t want people to get the wrong impression of me. We again took our seats on the back of plane so we could make a clean getaway upon arrival in Paris. We flew into Paris at night, so the whole city was lit up, I couldn’t see the Eiffel tower but Tony said he saw the light on top of the tower from his window seat. We finally got to the city around 11 pm and still had to walk to our hostel about 8 km away. We knew that we were right on the other side of the Eiffel Tower from where we got dropped off so that was our marker, walk toward the tower. As we walked, it became apparent that we were in the nicer part of town. There were boutiques and nice restaurants lining the clean streets and then we turned the corner and there it was. Lit up like a Christmas tree, lighthouse style beacon radiating from atop, the Eiffel Tower stood out like a white guy in a 100 m dash. As we got closer and closer, the true size of the Tower became more and more real. I guess I never realized just how big it is, much like every other world monument that I’ve come across in my life. And seeing it all lit up at night was an amazing sight.
After a few turns…and turn-arounds we finally got to our hostel, the 3 ducks. It has a bar attached to it, so we sat there and had a few brews before calling it a night. The Eiffel tower tours start at 9:30 so we figured getting there at 9 would put us close to the front of the line…we were mistaken. We were about 300 people back when we got there. I’ve heard of people sometimes waiting 5 hours to get up in the tower, and I was willing to wait, but not that long. But surprisingly enough, an hour after we got in line, we were up on the 2nd level, about to go to the top. They move people through that line!
After making it back down the tower in the diagonally moving elevator, we took off for the Notre Dame. Along the way we decided to hit up the MickyD’s and grab some grub. We walked toward the Notre Dame, thinking there had to be one somewhere and that is would magically pop out of no where and smack us in the face…we were right. The golden arches shone through in between the lamp posts and hordes of people and drew us in like bears to honey. On the way, we passed St. Michael’s, another big church in Paris that we had no idea we were even close to. Lucky for us, the McDonalds was close to the subway station we needed to get on to take us to the Notre Dame.
After walking around in front of the Notre Dame for a few minutes, and taking pictures of the kid feeding the birds out of his hand, we took off for the cemetery. Why the cemetery you ask. Jim Morrison is buried in Paris, at one of the big cemeteries so we decided to check it out as well. Now I was expecting a normal cemetery complete with head stones and the like, but what we found was a vast array of family monuments set up hundreds of years ago to house the remains of all that shared a surname. And im not talking small pieces of granite here either, these things were huge, like 20 ft high by 10 wide. So we looked at the map and found out where ol’ Jimbo was buried and headed that way. We weren’t quite sure we were in the right place, except for all the people stand around talking. And there, in between a couple of giant monuments, was a small head stone that read “James Morrison” … and whatever years, I don’t remember. We snapped a few quick pics and headed out, off to the station to hop a train to Amsterdam.
All of our travel to this point has been superb, we havent missed anything, havent been in the wrong place, we’ve cruised through these counties with not so much as the slightest inconvenience. So obviously this is where shit hit’s the fan. This is the one ticket we didn’t book together, sitting at the same computer. Tony handed his ticket to the man at the door of the train and he told him that he would need to go to the front ( we were in the very back at this point) and he told me to go into this door and take my seat to the left. I found seat 73 and sat down for 10 minutes before an elderly man came into the train and began walking my way. He looked at me as though he needed me to get up and allow him to take his spot next to the window, but this was not exactly the case. He said that he and his wife were supposed to be sitting next to each other and that I was not in the right car, we were in car 28 and I was supposed to be in 18. What a lying sack of $#!t that guy at the door was. So I grabbed my bag and began walking toward the front of the train. I got as far as car 24 before I found an employee of the train and I asked him to help me find my seat, though I figured I’d just have to keep going in the same direction for a few more cars. But that’s when he looked at my ticket and told me that I didn’t have a seat on this train. The conversation went as follows:
\Me: excuse me, is this the way to my seat?
Pierre: let me see your ticket. Sir, you don’t have a seat on this train.
Me: what do you mean? this train is going to Amsterdam right?
Pierre: no this train is going to Cologne.
Me: but the guy at door 28 looked at my ticket and told me to get on. Are you sure this isn’t going to Amsterdam?
Pierre: yes sir, this train is going to…just a sec (sticks his head around the corner and speaks in French, then turns back to me) Sir this train is indeed going to Cologne, and you do not have a seat on this train. You will have to wait until we get to Bruxsels and change trains there.
Me: what do you mean change trains? My tickets says Amsterdam and the marquee said this is the train I need to be on.
Pierre: Sir you are going to have to wait until we get to Bruxels, get off there and change trains. Now if you will excuse me, I have to get the food ready for 1st class.
So now I’m freaking out, Tony is lord knows where, I dontt have a cell phone and neither does he, so I cant call him to tell him that we have to get off the train and get on another one. So I take off in the same direction, looking for the head of curly hair leaned back against the seat, taking a nap. As I pass from car to car, I notice that ive entered into 1st class, I know tony didn’t get a first class ticket, but I had no idea of know what happened after we parted ways at the back of the bus platform. I walked until the end, car 19, so I turned and walked back the other way, past 24, the bar car, and all the way back up to 28 where I originally sat…still no tony. Now im really worried because I doubt he knows whats going on either and we have no way to get a hold of each other. Im thinking that once I get there, ill get off the train, buy a ticket to Amsterdam and meet tony there, at a sports bar we talked about going to to watch opening weekend of college football season.
As we were pulling into the station, Pierre came over to me and said that what I needed to do was to get off the train there and go to the first train, that was the one going to Amsterdam. So I got off the train and began walking toward the front, this is when I noticed that this train was actually 3 separate trains put together to make the trek to bruxels, before parting and going separate ways. This was a huge sigh of relief as I got onto the right train and promptly took my seat in 73. Now I still wasn’t sure that Tony was on this train, but I figured he was headed in the right direction seeing as how he was given proper instructions the first time around.
I was on the very front car of the train so when we got off in Amsterdam I stood, waiting for him to come to me from wherever it was that he was sitting. A couple of minutes passed and no one was left on the train, and still no Tony. I watched as the doors closed on the train and it started to pull away. This is when Tony came walking around the bend in the platform that was hidden by the train, much to my relief. He had been on the very back of the front car, I was near the front, and he had gotten off through the back door and started walking toward the back of the train looking for me. (I had gotten off the front door of the 1st car and had just stood there) Anyhow, we were both there and ready to get the party started.
We made it to the hostel, checked in, and headed to get some food and watch opening weekend of college football at the American sports bar in Liedersplein. The only game that was on was Georgia vs. Oklahoma State. We were not the only ones in the bar however. There was a big soccer match between Ecuador and some other south American country, and I was kicking myself for not having my Ecuador jersey on. I would have played that for all it was worth and tried to get some free drinks out of it, that’s for sure. They ended up losing, so my Ecuadorian comrades were not happy campers at the final whistle. As we were leaving the bar, we ran into a guy from Whales who was passing out cards for a pub crawl that goes on every night there in the area. We already had plans for Saturday night so we told him that we would be back on Sunday to see what it was all about. He gave us each a card that got us a dollar off admission, or a free t-shirt, whichever we wanted. But we hopped a train back to the red light district and spent the rest of our night there.
Sunday, we woke up and walked around a little bit, looking at souvenir shops and stuff. But we soon realized that they all sold the same stuff for the same price and it was pointless to go into another one, so what did we do…we found a bar and started drinking. We had a few hours to kill before the start of the pub crawl so we started early by have a few brews and watching cricket. We watched an entire match to 250 runs and tried to figure out the scoring system and some of the rules. After watching that match, I feel I at least have a better understanding of the game.
The pub crawl started at 8 so we hopped a train back to the Leidersplein and headed to the first bar. The 20 Euro entry fee got us free vodka shots all night, a free beer at each of the 6 bars, free entry to 2 dance clubs, and a free t-shirt…not a bad gig I’d say. The night started off pretty relaxed, just drinking beers and a few vodka shot, but as the night progressed, so too did the craziness. We forewent the beers and just had vodka and danced the night away…this made for a great hangover the next day.
On the bus on the way back to Hamburg, there was a guy that would not stop talking the entire 6 hours. He was talking to whoever would listen and about anything under the sun. at one point I heard him telling…for those of you playing along at home, he was speaking English, I haven’t miraculously learned fluent German or anything…a woman about a group of scientists that is trying to debunk Evolution. The best part of this story happened at a rest stop where the bus was turned off, so I was able to hear the entire explanation. It goes as follows:
“so these scientists have looked at fossil records and gathered some data and they have evidence that proves that Evolution isn’t the answer for how the world came to be. What happened was that the gravitational pull of the earth used to be much, much stronger, and every element on the periodic chart is actually a metal. so with increased gravity, it all condensed down and created new compounds that led to living things. Now these living things were much, much bigger than we are today, because the increase in gravity brought more elements together and was able to hold them together. This is where the dinosaurs come from. But [something] happed to throw earth farther away from the sun, which caused the gravity to weaken and therefore the bigger animals could not survive, because their internal workings couldn’t handle the decrease in pressure. Now the surprising thing in all this is that there were actually humans alive at this time, giant humans. They have actually found human footprints next to dinosaur prints that suggest that humans were 18 ft tall. My buddy was walking along the beach one day, when something washed up on land. He picked it up, im kidding you not, and it was a human skull. It measured 36 in around. He actually held this human head from millions of years ago in his hands. They have found pieces of these skulls and human bones in other places as well. They have actually pieced these ancient humans together and found that they sometimes had 36 fingers and toes, and extra limbs that have disappeared from the current gene pool. So as generations of humans were born into this environment with less gravity, they shrank, lost these extra appendages, and eventually over time became closer to the what we look like today.”
The woman he was talking to seemed pretty skeptical but she kept asking him questions about I, I think just to see what he would say next. As the bus started up and we took off, he was talking something about a house cat and a lion being one gene different from one another and something about genes switching on and off through time. I couldn’t really hear over the hum of the bus and the passing traffic. But I got a nice science lesson on the way home and now I feel a whole lot smarter….(sarcasm oozing off the page right here)
When we got to Hamburg, we had no cash, just a credit card and much to our delight, the ticket machine doesn’t take credit cards! And our phones are dead! And its midnight! I was able to turn my phone on and get Luis’s number and call on the phone of the guy that works at the Chinese buffet in the train station. If you are reading this, which I highly doubt, Thank you, you are a life saver. Luis came and picked us up and took us back to his house to crash for the night. It just so happened that Florida State was playing Miami in a Monday night college football game, which started at 1 am local time, so we watched as the U upset Florida State in what will go down as one of the great games in the cross-state rivalry. It came down to the last play of the game.
The next morning we got up and caught the train back to Tostedt and had to walk the 7 km back to Dohren. But it was great to be home.
We walked somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 km in 4 days and my feet still hurt.
That trip was Sumthin Sirius!
A-Ron
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
I tents this weekend to come desire past and drive indecent things: - P
this past weekend, with a Eurotrip looming on the horizon, was one where i wanted to take it easy and not spend any money.... it seems the socail calendar of Dohren had different plans for me. well at least in the way of taking it easy. I didnt spend much money, but we sure partied.
Friday was the championship for the Junior Team in a game against Bremen here in Dohren. If they won, they would be traveling down to Regensburg in late Sept. to play in the German Championships. Since David is the coach of this team, (he also plays) i had no responsibility except to consume a few beers and cheer on the team from outside the backstop...the first game i've just watched since being in Dohren. Daniel threw a hell of a game and held them to 2 runs in 5 innings, because thats all we would need to score 13. During the pyramid, champaign was brought out and showered on the young guys...most not even of age to drink, even by German standards. That set the tone for the rest of the night.
Friday was a birthday of a girl that lives in a neighboring town and a classmate of many of the guys on the team. she was coincidentally the ex-ex-girlfriend of Jan, though he was not in attendance due to a trip to Berlin with the youth group of Dohren. When we got there, there was a tent with tables and benches, and about 15 girls sitting, sipping on their drinks. there was no music and very few other guys...the latter was just fine wth me, but the former was a problem that needed to be fixed. In due time it was, the Wild Farmers, as i will call us, had a few drinks and were ready to get the party started so we played DJ around the stereo. the girls remained seated at the tables, so me and Tony decided that we would go over and see what the discussion was about. while it was nice to see some new faces and meet some new girls, they didnt seem to be too impressed with us 'Mericans. i'm pretty sure the conversation lasted about 10 minutes before they gave up translating and again talked with each other solely in German. we took that as our cue. as the night went on, they came out of their cozy seats on the wooden bench and joined the dance party that continued into the wee hours of the morning.
Saturday morning was the Youth Team's championship game and they but instead of just one team, they had to take down 2 in a final four of sorts. the first game was over by the time i got there but i was just in time to see the 2nd game that was tied at 2-2 in the 3rd, before the bases got loaded and one kid, who really never hits the ball all that great in practice, blasted one over the center field fence on a 3-2 count. that served to be the winning blow and the Wild Farmers are champs of the State Youth title.
Saturday, Bassi, one of the soccer players here in Dohren turned 30...and guess what...hes not married! as you might remember, Johst accomplished this feat earlier in the year, and it was a party for the ages. This one would prove to be no different. we met the parade at the firehouse/trainstation and the sawdust was already on the ground. this is where things differ a tad from Johst's task of sweeping it all up, there was this little girl of about 9-10 that kept helping Bassi. At first she just helped him gather it all up into a big pile, that we kept knocking over, but then she got smart and grabbed the trashbag the sawdust came in. and she was putting it all in the bag and guarding it with her life. now this didnt leave much for Bassi to sweep and it couldnt end in 20 minutes, we had to make this thing last. so Bassi's girlfriend got ahold of the bag and dug in the nails. Needless to say this upset the little girl but she was not detered for long, she soon found another bag and again helped out despite our pleas. but once again Bassi's girlfriend came in and ripped the bag. seeing that this wasnt going to be what helped end the misery, Bassi told the girl that he would give her something in his pocket...i couldnt tell what it was, but it looked like trading cards of some kind...if she would kiss him (it is tradition to sweep the streets until the birthday boy is kissed by a virgin)
We then walked down the street to the sporthouse and began the party. i wont go into all the gruesome details but it was a good one, and i was in bed by 12:30. Let's just say 30th birthday parties haven't been too good to me here in Germany. I mean i have a great time and all, but i pay for it later.
At 9 on sunday morning we had to pack up the cars and head to Kiel to play the Seahawks with the 2nd man's team. we had pretty much the normal squad back together this time, not the junior team that we had against Frohnau. I slept the entire way there, and im pretty sure everyone did except the driver...thank you Lowe. when we got there, the field was soaked, they were shoveling water off the field as we were walking up. there was standing water at all the bases and at home, the rest of the field looked fine...mainly because it was an all grass field that looked like it hadnt been cut that week. needless to say it was a slow infield, which accounted for 3 swinging bunts down the thirdbase line in the first inning. At shortstop, i was actually playing in front of the baseline and still had to come in on ground balls. the Seahawks were able to put up 9 runs on 3 walks, 3 swinging bunts, 3 errors, and possibly one of the worst calls ive ever seen in baseball. The only legit hit of the inning was actually foul, and the umpire originally called it right, throwing his hands up and pointing foul, but he never yelled anything, so the runners just kept running and so he then decided that it was a fair ball.
Now this umpire, the only one for our game because the other umipre went home because the team ahd originally said they wouldnt be able to play because of all the rain, might have been one of the worst of all time. and we let him know it after this first blown call with the foul ball call, and the other team let him know about it after he called a curveball that bounced before it got to the catcher for strike 3. Sometimes he would make a silent strike call, simply pointing to the side, as you do for a strike, and other times he would yell strike at the top of his lungs. it was very tough to know what the call was for us in the field, but especially for those at bat and the cather who had to ask constantly if the pitch was a ball or strike. we lost this game 10-0 and only got 2 hits in 4 innings...not a good start to the day. usually we get a half hour between games, to eat, make line ups, and to let the pitcher get ready. this moron gave me 10 minutes to eat and warm up to pitch the next game.
But thats not even the worst part about it. it got worse in the 2nd game. we had rain delays all through the 1st game. it would down pour for 10 minutes, enough to put more standing water on the field, then it would stop, then they would have to get the water off the field and put some more dirt in the holes at home. but that was never enough to cancel the game. Skip was the first batter in the 2nd game. he tried to bunt, but it went foul - strike 1. there was then a foul tip - strike 2. then there were 3 straight balls - 3 balls and 2 strikes. so when the next strike came in a little below the knees, everyone was surprised to hear the umpire say, "strike 2, full count". now for you keeping track at home, 3 strikes is an out in any league...except for this guy's. both teams had been warned already about arguing calls, so the 1st baseman began pleading his case, he did so politely but was quickly shot down by the umpire who INSISTED that the count before that last pitch had been 3 balls and 1 strike. so Skip got to see another pitch which was a ball, giving him a walk...He's the only guy i've ever seen turn a Strike Out into a Base on Balls, but thats why we call him The King.
Here is where all credibility for being a logical thinker goes out the window for this guy. as soon as Skip go to first, the clouds opened up for a good 20-25 minutes, this was the worst rain of the day so far, so again he sent us to the dugouts to wait it out. after the rain had run its course, the clouds broke and the sun came out. this is when any normal thinking human with any rational idea about baseball, would have said, "ok, back on the field." but Tweedle-Dee over here sat in the dugout for 10 minutes before Tony had to ask him what the deal was, where we playing or was he calling it. he looked at Tony as if he had 5 eyes. now getting a bit upset, Tony said quite loudly, "fucking ask him in German, Whats the decision man?" i wasnt going to put anything past this guy at this point, he had already asked us what we wanted to do about the games, though it is solely his discretion, and you never ask a team what they want to do about a rain out, especially the visiting team. but what came out of his mouth next was pure ignorance. He told Tony that we were going to WAIT for the next cloud to come in and see if it rained, if it rained, the game would be called, if not we would play. We were going to WAIT until the blue skies passed to see if the next cloud would bring rain. and thats exactly what we did. once the cloud was overhead, and it wasnt raining yet, we got back out the bats and Daniel went up to bat. After the 3 out of our half of the first, it was starting to sprikle so he yelled at the top of his lungs again, BALLGAME!
we packed up our stuff and got the hell out of there.
Today, i think i'm finished with my bat, the one that i've been turning on Johst's lathe for a good 4 months now. I got up theis morning and put the final touches on it, its not perfect by any means, there are a few minor blemishes in it, but considering i did it all by hand, i'm happy with it...hey, it looks like a bat and there's something to be said for that on the first try. I still need to paint it and put some stickers on it, but Johst ordered those for me today, so soon i'll be able to put it along side the DPU bat that's at home.
Thursday morning we leave for Rome and i'm pumped, this is going to be a great trip.
One month from today, i will be leaving this dream and heading back to reality...not sure how i feel about that.
A-Ron
Friday was the championship for the Junior Team in a game against Bremen here in Dohren. If they won, they would be traveling down to Regensburg in late Sept. to play in the German Championships. Since David is the coach of this team, (he also plays) i had no responsibility except to consume a few beers and cheer on the team from outside the backstop...the first game i've just watched since being in Dohren. Daniel threw a hell of a game and held them to 2 runs in 5 innings, because thats all we would need to score 13. During the pyramid, champaign was brought out and showered on the young guys...most not even of age to drink, even by German standards. That set the tone for the rest of the night.
Friday was a birthday of a girl that lives in a neighboring town and a classmate of many of the guys on the team. she was coincidentally the ex-ex-girlfriend of Jan, though he was not in attendance due to a trip to Berlin with the youth group of Dohren. When we got there, there was a tent with tables and benches, and about 15 girls sitting, sipping on their drinks. there was no music and very few other guys...the latter was just fine wth me, but the former was a problem that needed to be fixed. In due time it was, the Wild Farmers, as i will call us, had a few drinks and were ready to get the party started so we played DJ around the stereo. the girls remained seated at the tables, so me and Tony decided that we would go over and see what the discussion was about. while it was nice to see some new faces and meet some new girls, they didnt seem to be too impressed with us 'Mericans. i'm pretty sure the conversation lasted about 10 minutes before they gave up translating and again talked with each other solely in German. we took that as our cue. as the night went on, they came out of their cozy seats on the wooden bench and joined the dance party that continued into the wee hours of the morning.
Saturday morning was the Youth Team's championship game and they but instead of just one team, they had to take down 2 in a final four of sorts. the first game was over by the time i got there but i was just in time to see the 2nd game that was tied at 2-2 in the 3rd, before the bases got loaded and one kid, who really never hits the ball all that great in practice, blasted one over the center field fence on a 3-2 count. that served to be the winning blow and the Wild Farmers are champs of the State Youth title.
Saturday, Bassi, one of the soccer players here in Dohren turned 30...and guess what...hes not married! as you might remember, Johst accomplished this feat earlier in the year, and it was a party for the ages. This one would prove to be no different. we met the parade at the firehouse/trainstation and the sawdust was already on the ground. this is where things differ a tad from Johst's task of sweeping it all up, there was this little girl of about 9-10 that kept helping Bassi. At first she just helped him gather it all up into a big pile, that we kept knocking over, but then she got smart and grabbed the trashbag the sawdust came in. and she was putting it all in the bag and guarding it with her life. now this didnt leave much for Bassi to sweep and it couldnt end in 20 minutes, we had to make this thing last. so Bassi's girlfriend got ahold of the bag and dug in the nails. Needless to say this upset the little girl but she was not detered for long, she soon found another bag and again helped out despite our pleas. but once again Bassi's girlfriend came in and ripped the bag. seeing that this wasnt going to be what helped end the misery, Bassi told the girl that he would give her something in his pocket...i couldnt tell what it was, but it looked like trading cards of some kind...if she would kiss him (it is tradition to sweep the streets until the birthday boy is kissed by a virgin)
We then walked down the street to the sporthouse and began the party. i wont go into all the gruesome details but it was a good one, and i was in bed by 12:30. Let's just say 30th birthday parties haven't been too good to me here in Germany. I mean i have a great time and all, but i pay for it later.
At 9 on sunday morning we had to pack up the cars and head to Kiel to play the Seahawks with the 2nd man's team. we had pretty much the normal squad back together this time, not the junior team that we had against Frohnau. I slept the entire way there, and im pretty sure everyone did except the driver...thank you Lowe. when we got there, the field was soaked, they were shoveling water off the field as we were walking up. there was standing water at all the bases and at home, the rest of the field looked fine...mainly because it was an all grass field that looked like it hadnt been cut that week. needless to say it was a slow infield, which accounted for 3 swinging bunts down the thirdbase line in the first inning. At shortstop, i was actually playing in front of the baseline and still had to come in on ground balls. the Seahawks were able to put up 9 runs on 3 walks, 3 swinging bunts, 3 errors, and possibly one of the worst calls ive ever seen in baseball. The only legit hit of the inning was actually foul, and the umpire originally called it right, throwing his hands up and pointing foul, but he never yelled anything, so the runners just kept running and so he then decided that it was a fair ball.
Now this umpire, the only one for our game because the other umipre went home because the team ahd originally said they wouldnt be able to play because of all the rain, might have been one of the worst of all time. and we let him know it after this first blown call with the foul ball call, and the other team let him know about it after he called a curveball that bounced before it got to the catcher for strike 3. Sometimes he would make a silent strike call, simply pointing to the side, as you do for a strike, and other times he would yell strike at the top of his lungs. it was very tough to know what the call was for us in the field, but especially for those at bat and the cather who had to ask constantly if the pitch was a ball or strike. we lost this game 10-0 and only got 2 hits in 4 innings...not a good start to the day. usually we get a half hour between games, to eat, make line ups, and to let the pitcher get ready. this moron gave me 10 minutes to eat and warm up to pitch the next game.
But thats not even the worst part about it. it got worse in the 2nd game. we had rain delays all through the 1st game. it would down pour for 10 minutes, enough to put more standing water on the field, then it would stop, then they would have to get the water off the field and put some more dirt in the holes at home. but that was never enough to cancel the game. Skip was the first batter in the 2nd game. he tried to bunt, but it went foul - strike 1. there was then a foul tip - strike 2. then there were 3 straight balls - 3 balls and 2 strikes. so when the next strike came in a little below the knees, everyone was surprised to hear the umpire say, "strike 2, full count". now for you keeping track at home, 3 strikes is an out in any league...except for this guy's. both teams had been warned already about arguing calls, so the 1st baseman began pleading his case, he did so politely but was quickly shot down by the umpire who INSISTED that the count before that last pitch had been 3 balls and 1 strike. so Skip got to see another pitch which was a ball, giving him a walk...He's the only guy i've ever seen turn a Strike Out into a Base on Balls, but thats why we call him The King.
Here is where all credibility for being a logical thinker goes out the window for this guy. as soon as Skip go to first, the clouds opened up for a good 20-25 minutes, this was the worst rain of the day so far, so again he sent us to the dugouts to wait it out. after the rain had run its course, the clouds broke and the sun came out. this is when any normal thinking human with any rational idea about baseball, would have said, "ok, back on the field." but Tweedle-Dee over here sat in the dugout for 10 minutes before Tony had to ask him what the deal was, where we playing or was he calling it. he looked at Tony as if he had 5 eyes. now getting a bit upset, Tony said quite loudly, "fucking ask him in German, Whats the decision man?" i wasnt going to put anything past this guy at this point, he had already asked us what we wanted to do about the games, though it is solely his discretion, and you never ask a team what they want to do about a rain out, especially the visiting team. but what came out of his mouth next was pure ignorance. He told Tony that we were going to WAIT for the next cloud to come in and see if it rained, if it rained, the game would be called, if not we would play. We were going to WAIT until the blue skies passed to see if the next cloud would bring rain. and thats exactly what we did. once the cloud was overhead, and it wasnt raining yet, we got back out the bats and Daniel went up to bat. After the 3 out of our half of the first, it was starting to sprikle so he yelled at the top of his lungs again, BALLGAME!
we packed up our stuff and got the hell out of there.
Today, i think i'm finished with my bat, the one that i've been turning on Johst's lathe for a good 4 months now. I got up theis morning and put the final touches on it, its not perfect by any means, there are a few minor blemishes in it, but considering i did it all by hand, i'm happy with it...hey, it looks like a bat and there's something to be said for that on the first try. I still need to paint it and put some stickers on it, but Johst ordered those for me today, so soon i'll be able to put it along side the DPU bat that's at home.
Thursday morning we leave for Rome and i'm pumped, this is going to be a great trip.
One month from today, i will be leaving this dream and heading back to reality...not sure how i feel about that.
A-Ron
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