It seems like forever since my last post, but it has only been a little over a week! Erek and I both agree that it feels like we have been here a month. I’ll try and remember everything I had originally planned to write about, but I know I am going to forget a few things. I’d like to sound like Rick Reilly from Sports Illustrated/ESPN when I write, but poetic lava doesn’t always seep from my fingertips—that being said, I’ll try and keep it interesting. Things may come up randomly because I am writing this off the top of my head. The past week has been busy, but still an experience I will not regret.
After my last post, Erek, my roommate from California, moved in, and I was back in college again beginning my freshman year (well, sort of). Living with a random person from another part of the U.S. in a designated area was something I had experience with before, and that experience alone, gave us both a quick common ground. No matter how different we were possibly going to be, the fact that we were open to a new experience, excited to play baseball and meet new people allowed us to always fall back on a common bond (but we get along anyway, so it doesn’t matter).
Each day I have seemed to find something new that has given me something to ponder. More little things like Swedish television. We only get about twelve channels, and three or four of them are strictly in Swedish. I really noticed the art behind advertising in watching all Swedish commercials (for my brother). For instance, when a commercial is on and I cannot understand what they are saying, but still get the message, then I believe they have done a damn god job. Other than that, T.V. is filled with MTV videos, S.C.R.U.B.S., movies, South Park, Simpsons, Family Guy and other known American dramas along with European COPS and 80’s American reality like 911.
An awkward situation came up one day when we were at the usual buffet getting lunch. Let me first start by saying that there are gambling machines in every establishment in Sweden (electronic slot machines--people are on them constantly!). Anyway, as we were talking an old man on one machine looks over and says in a grumbling, slow voice, "I understand everything you say!" We weren't saying anything derogatory, but he wanted to let us know he understood English (this guy was absolutely hammered at noon). He said he was from Finland, but lived in Sweden and proceeded to say all Swedes were, "fuckkkked!" (as he put his finger to his temple and twisted it to represent them as looney people) Erek and I just laughed awkwardly as we started getting stares from other locals ("okayyyy old man," we thought). He asked where we were from--babbled some more words we didn't understand and said, "America? We know everything about yourrrrr countryyy--you know nothing about us, NOTHING!" "Americans are all FUCKED!" Erek and I continued to laugh and try and keep this guy from getting any louder--the manager of the buffet came over and told him to settle down before or else he'd be kicked out. The dizzy, Finnish man proceeded to look at Erek (he has a Chinese background from his mother) and took his fingers and made his eyes slant and said, "Your people, blah blah blah, mumble mumble." We couldn't make out what he said-- then he just kind of went silent and back to his game after the manager again settled him down. That guy must have had a rough life, we thought to ourselves. We were finished with our meal, so a=instead of getting this guy all worked up, we took off. I think we won't sit near anymore gambling machines.
The snow is finally gone, but the weather is still the most unpredictable part of this trip. One minute it is sunny and warm, then all of a sudden, it drops 10 degrees (Celsius of course) and clouds form for some possible rain. I love this weather, but Erek, who has never really been around a constant cold season (still loves being able to see his breath), has been freezing his ass off for the most part! We finally figured out how to manage our heaters (there is a giant wall unit in every room and everything is double paneled for insulation) and usually leave our windows open throughout the day. Our windows are fairly old and use a large hinge system like a door (you could easily throw a ten foot wide couch out of it!). I never know what to believe, but everyone says spring is just around the corner, and everything will turn a thick green in just a couple of days. On the topic of housing, we helped a teammates friend move into a new home. The home was unbelievable--my mother would have been obsessed with it. Was placed right next to a small river, built in the mid 1700's--technically older than our country! It was a cottage like village, and the home was old style Swedish in it's barn-like appearance. It was colored a brick red with a large front porch and quality lot. The wine cellar had such an antique appeal and the home had slick wooden floors, high ceilings, and a kitchen on the first and second floors. I can't even describe in words the exact lay-out, but it was anything except modern. A lot of history.
The youth and adult practices have been going pretty smooth. Being on the coaching end is much different from being the coached, but it has allowed me to be more involved and get a better understanding of the game! I never realized how difficult a baseball swing was until I had to teach it to kids who grew up with only golf and hockey sticks. Many of them adjust well, but for the most part, they always lean forward and get out on the front foot when they should keep their wait back a little more. It is still hilarious to be coaching a camp and hear 20-30 kids yelling and speaking Swedish as they haggle their teammates. It is very weird being the “exotic” speaking person, but in a good way. Most of them know English very well, but they never hear it in day-to-day life, so for Erek and I to be instructing the entire time makes it fun for them. Several also refrain to juggling the balls as if they were soccer balls, but some really get into the sport and are highly interested.
We have completed one full, week long camp with a school named, Prolympia. We had some down time and talked to some of the kids, and in doing so, found out they never seem to go to school! It is a sports school for kids up to sixteen years of age. They attend regular classes, but have camps consistently and practice athletics after or during school each day. It is a middle school primarily directed toward athletics! Awesome! It also looks like a small military barrack hidden in the woods, as if for an exclusive clan. I do not know how to qualify for the school, but they start as young as about eight years I believe. We also asked a few kids what other sports they play and other than soccer and hockey, many did equestrian riding (there is a horse race track right next to the field—chariot style racing—not sure the exact name for that kind of racing), gymnastics, and what they call, “athlete.” We were caught off-guard by one girl because she said that she was also an, “athlete.” We thought she was being cocky, but really being an athlete is what they call track and field. They all were interested in what we have been doing around here, and they gave us some tips on travel and the, “hot spots.” Already in a week we have seen several of the kids in town because many go there to hang out and shop (small town I guess!).
The adult team has looked good thus far! We just claimed our first two opening season wins yesterday at a place two and a half hours south called, Eskilstuna. They are slightly new to the Elite series, but we played a good game overall regardless. We traveled in a 9-10 person van (A brand called Renault—very cool traveling vehicle; much better than the huge “getaway” Chevy vans we used in college) and a single car through basically thousands of trees. The wilderness is much unlike Ohio. Tall pines groomed and lined perfectly for an infinite range of sight. When we arrived, we entered a locker room, which again, was made for soccer. As we approached the field, all we could see in the distance were Swedish style factories and houses (very historic and different from anywhere I have ever been). The field was nicely made, perfectly flat (better than the majority fields in Ohio). Again, we noticed much graffiti---the stuff is everywhere it seems! The weather was cold, shady and a strong wind was constantly blowing an icy rush from one side. Erek and I found it funny that in all the years of baseball we have played, neither one of us had ever met with umpires to switch and discuss line-ups and ground rules. We made the line-up and I handed it to the umpire (spoke good English, but from Sweden and the other guy didn’t say much and was a rookie—they had some pretty interesting calls, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be). Anyway after going over the ground rules and shaking hands, we later realized that Joel Hedlund was not on the roster! We wanted him to pitch, but unfortunately we made a rookie coaching mistake—turned out not to hurt us at all, but now we know! The game went well—I was most surprised with our pitching---we did very well in controlling walks and throwing groundballs. Our infield also worked well together and made some great double plays. It was a different feeling running out to third to coach and to also switch with some of the other guys so I could hit. It actually kept me warm and alert the entire two games. After the first game, I went over to get some coffee at the concession stand (Sweden is the 2nd biggest consumer of coffee behind Finland—it is everywhere—even at Max burger, which is like Mcdonalds; they have an advanced coffee machine that makes high quality coffee, not just coffee brewed in pots—and it’s free like water!). Toward the end of the game, the sun began to come out during a light rain, and two high clarity rainbows appeared over the field—never had I seen something that looked like that! Every time I ran out to centerfield and saw the back drop and heard the European fans, I had to grin knowing I was in Sweden playing baseball; funny where you’ll end up sometimes.
After the game, we clapped as we walked off the field for the fans (as they do for Euro. Soccer game)—also funny—we never do that in the states, but probably should. We headed back to the locker room, and suddenly got this feeling like I was apart of some Euro. Professional soccer team—everyone hit the showers, cracked beers and talked for several minutes---I barely know these guys, but the camaraderie seemed effortless (nobody is ever quick to judge and everyone helps each other out—don’t have a beer? --- take one! --- need shampoo, towel? — No prob.! For the first day of games, I was happy with the wins and play; we have another road trip next weekend even further south. I look forward to more practice and smoothing over some things.
Erek and I have also had some chances now to get out and see some of the local nightlife. The other night we headed out to a bar in town to meet a teammate and some of his friends. He is a huge Liverpool fan and went there to watch the game. The bar was brand new with more flat screens per area than any American bar I have been too! Liverpool struggled and lost, and I asked questions that seemed obvious because I know nothing of Euro. Soccer. Needless to say, he wasn’t to happy the rest of the night. As he went home, we decided to check out where everyone says is the place to be, “Heartbreak Hotel.” (lol) It turns out that 18 and up can go on Thurs., 21 and up on Friday, and 23 and up on Saturdays. We had a good laugh hearing that you can drink at 18, but your only allowed to on Thursdays if you want to go there (also their drinking laws are a bit different—the driver can only have a 0.02 blood alcohol level, but the passengers can drink in the car as much as they want—unlike the U.S. where any open container is going to cost you). We entered and found a huge variety in the crowd---ranging from 50-60 year olds—to 18—most of which probably had fakes, so they were actually 15! You would never catch an old couple that age at a dance club like this in the U.S.! Beer wasn’t too expensive and it was all fairly strong—one beer probably cost as much as it would at a decent bar in the U.S. (an off campus bar)—around $5.50 at some places, but up to $7 at others (like a sporting event price!) Not as cheap as back home. It appears everyone “pre-games” before going to bars here so they do not spend much on the expensive alcohol prices. Upon leaving the bar I asked Erek if he wanted to go to a place called, “Interpool,” and some highly drunk, young kid—had to have been around 16 years old, thought I was talking trash to him as we rode away. He stepped in front of us and proceeded to act as if I was talking to him, trying to start a fight. More drunken talk pursued before his friend pulled him away and apologized—the last thing Erek and I needed was to end up in the small Gavle news for fighting some Swedish kid (doubtful, but I am not trying to ruin my time here). I guess it is normal for young kids to try and start trouble late at night around here according to some of our teammates (bout the same at home, but not as young in the city)---funny stuff.
Earlier in the week we met a couple of girls at Interpool (a nice bar/club with several billiards tables---funny because most billiard areas in the U.S. don’t have the clean, club-like atmosphere like they do here—like Sugar bar in Columbus with 15 pool tables—didn’t look right). They filled us in more about Gavle and Sweden in general—they both had the European, Swedish look—one was blond, blue-eyed etc… high style---very nice people. They said when we get a chance to go down to Stockholm to contact them for some info. on where to go.
We also attended the annual “beginning of Spring” town bonfire (an understatement). Many cities in Sweden celebrate this time (last day of April) of the year and also later in the summer during the “midsummer” or endless daylight portion. It becomes light again at around 4am already! We have to have curtains or we would never get any sleep. I have awoken a couple times thinking I had overslept because the sun is so bright so early! Back to the bonfire—Erik, one of our teammates (great guy—he and Morgan have been helping us out with a lot since they live close—owe them a ton!), came over and we walked to the bus stop to head into town for the event. The bus was packed—just as if it were the fourth of July in the U.S. and we were heading to Red, White, and Boom in downtown Columbus. Again we get a few stares for our English talk (not bad, but just curious). We arrived at the edge of a park and drank a few beers heading into the action. I looked over to see in a small river area, an unbelievable pile of wooden pallets and woodland brush. It was the size of a small ship! I guess the university fraternity Erik used to belong to lights it every year as tradition. They are recognized for their baggy, red overalls. As we stood in the massive crowd of hundreds of people, they began to light the edges of the vessel-like structure. Within minutes, there was a fire about 80-90 ft. high and about 70 ft. long over the river. You could not stand any closer than about 50 ft. without frying your face. There were no visible fire trucks on the scene (I asked Erik if there had ever been any accidents--- he said he hadn’t ever remembered hearing the fire ever get out of control). We kept thinking that if this were in America, there would be 10 fire trucks, police surrounding the area and ambulances scattered across the border! (speaking of ambulances—every time I hear one around here, I feel as if I am playing a role in a Jason Bourne movie) There was no fence or anyone guarding the fire---Someone could easily throw someone in or walk straight into the fire if they wanted. After the fire calmed, we could see an orange tint in the distance over all of the treetops from other massive fires burning in nearby cities and towns---very cool sight. They had a Swedish coir singing over the loud speaker—just the sound of a foreign language being heard over a loud speaker made me think I was in an old World War II movie. We ended up hearing some other well-spoken English as the crowd died down, and chatted up some people from near Vancouver in Canada. Turns out they are in a foreign exchange program and could help us out with things and parties and meeting people. They also live in the campus living area we do named, Satra; we got their numbers and plan to meet up with them this week.
I have topped my last post in writing this amount, but I feel like I would be cheating those of you who read by not going through everything. I will try better to some important things next time, but probably not! My workouts at the gym have been going well. The trainers are all great people and a few of them know about Crossfit. I have even had some time to show and run a couple players through the exercises (Erek and Morgan). I would like to train them all summer because I love the benefits of the philosophy. Although I am sad to say that I will not be able to complete at the regional qualifier in Halmstad due to baseball priorities. I thought I would get the chance, but I am here for baseball first and the manager that has taken care of me and given me this opportunity would like me to be with the team. I understand and will not be selfish in missing a game. There is always next year. It would have been cool to compete in Europe, and if it rains, maybe I will get another chance. I just feel bad for the people who donated some money—I will make sure they get it in return.
Life is still stylish—my Converse Chucks are apparently a huge hit our here---everyone from young to old, male and female has a pair. They are expensive out here though—a normal pair in the U.S. is usually around $45—here they are $100 if converted! Every pair of pants is tight around the ankle—maybe to prevent pants from getting stuck in the chain gears, but more likely a fashion statement—funny how in America we like to cover most of our shoes whereas here they want to show their entire show or boot, high or low tops. My uncle (well cousin, but we call him uncle) Eric would love the outdoor gear here. He works with Swiss Wenger. Morgan has a particular brand he usually buys for jackets, gloves, tents etc… named, Lundhags---perfect quality. Other than that, we got our speakers hooked up that were provided—always a bonus for music. Figured out the laundry schedule—must book it in advance on a computer so we are the only ones using the washers and dryers during that time—convenient so things are stolen or mixed, but not so much if we miss our time frame because we would get locked out the second the clock changes over our time. Some of the dryers are unlike anything I have seen—they are like mini closets that contain bars for hanging clothing. Kind of Like a sauna, the closets blast warm air until they are dry---instead of tumbling, they are hang dried.
Well, my legs are getting stronger each day I ride my bike to the field and into town, Erek and I made the local paper in an article about the team, I am eating more chocolate than I ever have because it is so damn good, and it feels like I have already been here a month—life is good. We also need to learn the trash system—we have colossal pile sitting in the kitchen, and technically, we are supposed to separate certain items into several different compartments because they are very economical and try to re-cycle as much as possible. I guess there are inspectors as well that check and make sure people are emptying their garbage into the right areas. Also, the grocery store is another adventure. There is a choice to buy a thick plastic bag for groceries or to use many small, thin garbage bags for free at the store. I did not know this at first, so I had stuffed about 7 small garbage bags with groceries--haha--now I realize they do this so people will by a bag (equivalent to only a little U.S. change) so they can re-use it every time and save plastic (more economical sense!) I still feel as if I have not said everything I originally wanted, but I think this will do until the next post. Oh yeah and every dog sign has a silhouette in the shape of a miniature snouser (funny how that is the default dog breed). Every person, except a select few, has small Chihuahuas or snousers or small dogs in general. Okay, I promise, now I’m done. I’ll try and post more frequently in shorter amounts. Until next time, Hej Da (the “a” needs a character above it, but I don’t feel like figuring it out)—means goodbye!
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