For those of you who follow the blog, we’ve been a bit slow as the summer has progressed thanks to college graduation and the life changes that are associated with the transformation from student to, in both Max’s and my respective career paths, teacher. I’m lucky enough to be coaching and playing for a baseball club in Germany. I’ve been writing about my experiences, but to this point hadn’t found a good way to introduce these first person narratives to OTBB. After my latest 2,000 word installment, I decided it was time to share what I’ve been up to with whomever cares to read. Here’s part 1 in what is some sort of postmodernism narrative plot.
Captain’s Log, Day 60ish:
This week has been quite an experience. The annual Wiesenmarkt is going on. The Wiesenmarkt (translated as “Meadow Market”) is basically a large fair that takes place very near the baseball field. According to German tradition, there’s plenty of beer to be imbibed and the Grasshoppers run one of four permanent beer halls. The beer halls stay there year round, but are only used during this 10-day festival of riches. But this post is about more than just the Wiesenmarkt, it’s about two wins against the top team in our league, a visit to Prague, and a visit from a friend from Vassar.
Baseball Stuff:
In what is sure to be the highlight of my coaching in Germany, the Grasshoppers beat the Frankurt Eagles two times. We had strong pitching performances from Yannick Schnellbacher and Johann Gelhorn, who pitched 8 solid innings across two games. In Game 1, we had a sizeable lead built behind a 7 run second inning. We were up 10-8 going into the last inning when Kevin Phillips, who had been brought on the previous inning, promptly sandwiched two walks around a single to load the bases. I brought in Johann, who was slated to start the next game and he walked his first batter. Following a strikeout of the cleanup hitter, another walk tied the game. An infield fly and a flyout to left ended the top half of the inning and we headed to the home half with a tie game. A leadoff single and a flyout put me up having already hit two near home runs (one for a double based on ground rules and another that was caught against the fence). I got a pitch right down the middle and hit a lazy fly ball to center (that’s baseball). A walk and a hit by pitch put Willi Groner in the spotlight. He put together a great at-bat, fouling off a few balls before ripping a line drive right back to the pitcher. The pitcher deflected the ball just behind the mound, in no man’s land, and we won the game.
The second game was not nearly as dramatic. Much more of a systematic thumping. After allowing two first-inning runs, Gelhorn strung together 5 straight 0’s and walked only one in his 7 innings. We won 7-3.
Other Stories:
After the game, it was Ezee’s 21st birthday. It was a luau, and I was somehow convinced to wear a coconut bra and bathing suit. The worst part was that I didn’t do my abs (it was actually that the yarn was extremely itchy). It was a fun night and I wound up getting back to the room around sunrise.
The Wednesday after the big game, I went to Prague by train, train, train and bus. It was really a nice system as I got to see all the transportation work seamlessly together (seriously) and the countryside of Germany. After my 7 hour journey, I found out Prague does not operate on the euro when I couldn’t figure out how to board their subway system. Operating on a map of the city that I briefly looked at 7-8 hours before, I guessed which subway stop I should go for that was near the Charles Bridge and Prague Castle. I guessed wrong.
After wondering around in southern Prague for about a half hour, I was hot so I went to McDonald’s for a free bathroom and a change from jeans. Which lead to this FB status: “decided to get lost without a map in a new city without a real destination. Wondered into a McDonald’s to pee and some lady walked in on me. It should be noted that She was very nice–She explained the difference between the stick figure man and woman before offering me a ride.” I walked and walked and it was a good day of seeing stuff. I met with Nicole Glantz, a friend from my time at Vassar who’s apartment would serve as my hotel, on the Charles Bridge in what would have been an unbelievably romantic scene if we were dating. It was sunset, the crowds parted and she was on the phone as I walked up behind her. We went to a nice dinner and then to drinks with a guy that Nicole had just meant the day before.
James Paul was an interesting guy. He also had just graduatated from American University with a film major. He started a Kickstarter and was in Prague with a $10,000 budget to make a short fiction film. It seemed like an awesome setup and he had some friends in to visit as well. He offered me a tour of the city the next day and I maintained my “yes man” Euro-tude and went along for the tour. I saw some interesting things and spent the day with some Americans which I found to be oddly refreshing after being over here for 2 months now. That night we went out to various clubs and there was one that I liked and should have stayed at. If memory serves, it was called Harley’s and they rocked out to “Seven Nation Army” and the like. It was cool, smokey and there was a girl dancing on a table in a White Sox t-shirt.
The next day I decided to head to the U-18 European Baseball Championships in southern Prague. Tobi Long was there as team manager/mom for the German National team and Germany was playing Sweeden. Germany had their ace on the hill and the guy threw gas. He was clearly the best player on the field and is signed to play with the Dodgers? as he matures. Tobi spoke highly of the kid, saying that despite his success, he’ll still carry a ball bucket or go out to throw with the extra outfielder in between innings. The experience was cool in that they took a distinctly soccer approach to watching the games. There was a clear divide in country colors, a man in a German-colored cowboy hat, an overzealous clapping girl who ran throughout the stands whenever a run scored, and a Vuvuzela.
I made my way back up through public transportation to the Big Lebowski. The bar named after The Dude had a very The Dude feel. Open for two years now, The Big Lebowski doesn’t have a price for anything except hooka. Want a beer for 10 cents? No problem. I paid about 2 euro for my beers (which were excellent dark beers from some small brewery that I missed the name of) and was happy with that. While in the bar, which felt more like a child’s reading room complete with stuffed animals patched with duct tape and a few too many chairs, I met a lovely American couple. The man, clearly gay and proud of his upper thighs, had heard of Vassar and knew about our work for the Trevor Project and standing up to the hatred of the WBC. I stayed with them for over an hour, until the “hooka and beers went straight to their 27-year old heads.”
After my three free-ish beers and on the advice of the bar’s owner, I went to the Thai place. Quite the experience for me. The menu was some mix of Thai and Czech, two languages in which I don’t have a clue and I wound up waiting 15 minutes for food that was ready 35 seconds after I ordered. It was delicious and cheap. Next I headed to some small bar that served as Nicole’s last drink with her Prague friends. I finished Nicole’s beer, as I’m sure most men will throughout her life, and we settled the bill (it was about 75 cents a beer… I overpayed at The Big Lebowski). We then went up to the Letna Beergarten that overlooks the city and is one of the absolute coolest places I’ve been to. It’s a large beergarden and the view and atmosphere are unequaled anywhere in the US. Unfortunately, by the time our group arrived, the beer stands were shut down for the night and we had to make our way to the 90’s dance club.
I forget the name of the club at current, but it was a good time to belt out songs that my mom would know all the words to and to which I only know half the words. Guys and girls were allowed on stage and nobody took themselves too seriously. It was a good time and we had a burrito on the walk home. Nothing beats a burrito on the walk home.
The next day I went to the airport to meet Tobi, who offered me company on the 5 hour car ride back to the little city by the creek in the Odenwald. While there, I saw the fabulously gay man again and again spoke with him not about the reasons for his wardrobe choices (this time his shorts could be mistaken for a jock strap and his boots didn’t make sense), but about his studies. He’s currently pursuing a masters from the London School of Economics while writing his dissertation on the gay community’s use of dating sites. It’s amazing how small the world is that I ran into him two times in two days in a city of 1.3 Million, but that’s what happens I guess.
That night, Saturday night, I’m not sure I paid for a drink, but people kept handing them to me. I was greeted with a mass of beer and another half liter. A few shots of Ficken later, I was in a good state of mind and atop the bierbankgarnitur (picnic table). I was able to ride my bike home successfully, though that was probably not my best idea.
Monday of the Wiesenmarkt marks a tradition that is essentially day drinking. Companies are supposed to allow their employes time off to go drink together. I arrived at noon, thinking I was two hours late. Au contraire. My appearance merely marked the beginning of the festivities. We drank, hammered with the wrong end of the hammer, sipped schnapps, swam in the creek by the field, and drank more. It was a perfect day.
I was complimented for still standing around 9 pm and considering the alcohol ingested that day, compliments were in order. Again, I decided to ride my bike home. Again a bad idea. This time I crashed… twice. Upon getting up the second time, I noticed my wallet was gone. In my state of mind and bleeding from my knee and elbow, I decided that the morning was the best time to search for my wallet. Waking up at 6, my body craved water. My mind realized the missing wallet and off I went. Still not sober enough to pass a sobriety test, I couldn’t locate my wallet retracing my mile bikeride home. Craving water again, I returned to my fortress to recoup sleep. Waking around noon, I decided to head back out, and was able to retrace the logistics of my first fall. Near the bush that marked the beginning of my fall was my wallet, open and with euro’s falling out. Nothing missing. Life is good to me.
Kelsi visited on Wednesday morning and we spent the day mostly chilling. We went for a walk, and generally caught up. Thursday we climbed up to Burg Wildenburg, a secluded castle atop a mountain some 25 minutes from my apartment. Afterwards, we went to a wine tasting of sorts. The winery opened its doors for the day and we tasted 5 or 6 of their finest wines. As the son of a wine-o I know that each merits it’s own paragraph, but to sum the different flavors, I would call them all drinkable summer wines. Each seemed perfect to have near the pool with aromas that hinted at flowers. One even reminded me of bacon (you know a wine is good when you pair it mentally with bacon). A good day all in all that was capped with a wonderful dinner at Drei Hassen and a couple more drinks at the Frietag’s with Christian.
Friday saw us go to Hiedelberg. It’s a city that I’ve wanted to visit since I’ve been here and one that remained largely intact through World War II. The city is dominated by the Schloss Hiedelberg (Castle) that really is more of a fortress built into the mountainside than any livable castle. The highlight there (for me), aside from the wonderful view and the astonishing architecture and craftsmanship, was the giant barrel. Beginning in 1591, Johann Casimir-Fass ordered the construction of a large wine vat such that winery’s of the area could pay their taxes with wine. At the time, winery’s mixed their grapes so this was not such a big deal that it would all be combined into one barrel. There were four iterations of the big barrel, before the final one’s completion. In 1751, the year of its construction, the present one had a capacity of 221,726 litres or about (58,000 gallons). It was a site to behold.
Finally, Saturday was a day of relaxation, Kelsi and I hung out by the lake, got world class ice cream and iced coffee, made a lovely dinner and hit the Wiesenmarkt to say her farewells before a 4:30AM departure from Michelstadt to catch her plane in Frankfurt.
It’s been a fun two weeks, an awesome two weeks, but it’s time to get back to work… errr, baseball. The trade deadline just passed and we’ve got you covered at Off The Bench for the MLB stretch run.
-Sean Morash
Word of the day: Glühwürmchen
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