Captain’s Log Week 12:
This Sunday, I did the impossible. I visited 3 countries in about 4 hours. It’s not impossible in Europe, but it’s still noteworthy for an American more accustomed to the large square milage–er, kilometerage? Driving through Europe has much the same feel that driving through the US does, except for the change in customs, scenery, architecture, and language. Really, changing countries in Europe is like changing states in the US in that you simply pass a sign that says, “Welcome to France,” and a car full of idiots pulls over to take a series of pictures. The driving rules change, the language changes, and the people’s willingness to speak English changes. What follows was my weekend experience…
Friday marked a former lady Grasshopper’s birthday. She’s a friend of the program and was allowed to use the Container to celebrate. Before our practice was over, people began arriving, beer in hand and after practice I sat back and enjoyed a Schmucker with a few of the guys. I made it back to the party after a shower knowing that the Container has a way of turning sloppy rather quickly. It did just that and I left early trusting that the Grasshoppers who were still there would manage to find their way to the car in the morning.
Saturday we played in Saarlouis. Saarlouis is about a 3 hour drive West from Erbach and we were due to meet at 7:45, knowing the usual shit that we encounter on our way to an away game. Tobi wasn’t at the field but at 7:50 greeted me with this text: “I’m still wasted, any chance you guys can pick me up?” We had 9 players scheduled to make the trip and one of them was still wasted. German baseball is a bit different.
We made it to the field after an encounter with German military. Apparently there was to be some military demonstration near the baseball complex and we had to park some ways away. The LZ was crawling with German troops. I was a bit uncomfortable given the generational between Germany and the US. I know that I’m safe and welcome throughout the country, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been that close to a different nation’s army. We got to the field and it was a war scene. Literally. The military demonstration was meant as some sort of recruiting event, but it looked like something out of a movie, with choppers flying in and out, (hopefully) faux bullets firing consistently and various colors of smoke billowing from the other side of the hill. The games went on.
We lost the first game after I was hit in the hand in the first inning and they stole what felt like a bunch of bases off of me (at catcher) and we threw the ball around a bit. Still, we rebounded and won the second by a score of 25-3 (they really only have 2 pitchers and once we were able to knock the second starter from the game, things got ugly). Of special note: Tobi only got out two two times in 11 trips to the plate after throwing up before putting on his uniform. I’m not going to make a comparison to the MJ flu game, but his display of hitting while that hungover was laughably awesome.
After the game, we showered in the guest clubhouse and stole a beer from the few cases that they stored there. I really can’t think of a worse place to store cases of beer than where the opposing team showers. I forgot to grab my change of clothes from The Whip and was forced to walk past all those military guys without a shirt. It was OK, because I knew I looked great.
Tobi, Kevin Phillips and I took The Whip the 30 km from Saarlouis to France. If you’re looking for some pompous review of France, this isn’t the forum, but I’d oblige if requested. It was an interesting place, but with certainly different vibes than Germany. Tobi pointed out the difference in how the agriculture was farmed (without the precision of German farming), and there seemed to be an air of arrogance. I’m not really sure if it was my interpretation of their mannerisms or more a manifestation of the culture, but there was some stuffy-ness about the strangers we met. That’s not to say the people are mean, rude or anything of that nature, but that they think highly of themselves and are aware of their public appearance.
We were in Metz (pronounced Mess) and the girls at the nightclub at the end of the night were a mess. As the ambulance arrived to take one girl to the hospital, another was carried out of the club, dead to the world, with one shoe missing. It was quite the spectacle. Before the nightclub (diskotheque, whatever), we wondered around the Fetes du Mirabelle. It was a traditional festival with live music that took place in a large park somewhat near the center of town. It was quite unlike festivals in Germany in that it was over before midnight and served no alcohol.
The two guys I was with (and me to a lesser extent) were stunned by the lack of alcohol at a festival and made our way to what we dubbed the MILF bar. I had a lovely Chardonnay (or some other white wine) and we also had a great dinner. My timeline is entirely backwards here, but that’s the way it works sometimes.
Metz was a cool town. It’s Cathedral dominates the skyline and the architecture was entirely different than that of Germany. In researching the Cathedral post-visit, my suspicions that the Cathedral was really tall were confirmed. At 41 meters, it’s the 9th tallest cathedral nave in the world.
From Metz, we headed the 45 minutes up the highway to Luxembourg. The country-city was actually really nice. It’s built on some sort of valley-crevice thing that makes for beautiful walls and bridges. The Palace where the Grand Duke of Luxembourg lives is cool in that it’s a still-functioning palace, but not as grandiose as I will build Palace Morash, where King Morash sits atop his throne in his own city-country. Other notes from Luxembourg: I will now remember it when I take the quiz of European countries, their primary language is French, but German and the traditional Luxembourgish (which is spoken mostly by old people), and Luxembourg is the only remaining grand duchy in the world. For those wondering, a grand duchy is the territory governed by a Grand Duke (which is some sort of step below King, but above Prince).
It was a cool weekend that involved 3 countries in 4 hours that capped a great week. Earlier, I visited a felsenmeer that is best explained by legend: Once upon a time there were two giants who lived on two hills; one on the Felsberg, the other on the Hohenstein. One day they had a quarrel and began throwing boulders at each other. The giant from Hohenstein had the advantage of many more stones to throw, and soon the giant from the Felsberg was buried in a sea of rocks. Today that spot is known as the Felsenmeer. The Felsenmeer was incredibly high, and the rocks were nothing but boulders. In climbing the rocks, I found that none of them so much as shook under my weight and I was consistently amazed by the geological formation. I really just couldn’t understand how all these rocks accumulated in this exact spot.
The coming weeks should hold fun times. I’ve assembled my bucket list for my time left in Europe and look forward to marking them off.
-Sean Morash
Word of the Day: Schokolade Milch
