My Life As A Basketball Player

The Madness That is March

2010-03-21T17:29:00.001-07:00

That's right, March Madness is underway, however, this year it seems to be alittle different. Perhaps it's the 5 Euros I tossed into the betting pool, or perhaps I just have nothing to fill my life with these days. Either way, I've found myself more invested in the NCAA tournament this year.
I'll spare you the details as my picks lack a certain fatidic prowess. Safe to say, it's 5 Euros that will never be spent on a delicious schnitzel. Be that as it may, much of my team has enjoyed boasting or being shocked at the goings-on during this wonderful time of year. Being a part of this, with my team, has made me realize how much I appreciate devices that transcend cultural barriers; in this case our love of basketball brings us closer together. Everyone picks their favorites, and traditional taunting ensues upon hearing of the outcomes.

Now, onto Devil's basketball, we currently sit in 1st place at 17-2. With 5 games left in the season, we are again hitting our stride, winning close games on the road, and taking care of business at home. This probably goes without saying, but its a fantastic time to be a part of this organization.

[Thanking our amazing Devil's fans]

Today, Dikkah scooped up Hun and I, and we made the trek across town to cheer on our beloved women's team, no...not the crabbettes (youth cheer team), although while cheer-worthy. I am talking about the Lady Devils, whom battled valiantly against a women's team from Frankfurt(oder). They battled back from a 15 point decifit to lose a nail bitter, by about 5 or so. It was interesting to be in the cheering section rather than on the court. I even picked up a noise maker, and found myself standing to shout in what was sure to be broken-German.

[Lady Devils getting a pep talk from Rocco]

After our battle last weekend in Berlin, in which we prevailed against Future in Overtime, Dikkah, some of his friends and I, decided to go out enjoy a night in Berlin. We began in Cottbus, and after enjoying a few adult beverages, took our show on the road. The club lamentably was a "House" club, meaning that in-lieu of Top 40 sing along music, we were blasted with a hardcore techno, of sorts...that was sure to be felt somewhere up in Troposphere. However, a few more adult beverages later, and I was no longer the American against the wall with his fingers in his ears, instead I was the American in the middle dance floor beatin' the beat up (thank you in advance to all Jersey Shore fans, for cheering at my reference). Needless to say I had a great time, and capped the night off with two...that's right, two, 7 am Döner's compliments of our splendid chef's at Efes.

[My German buddies and I, moments before said beat was beatin' up]

As an interesting aside, I have successfully rid my room of the phantom smell that was residing somewhere between the closet and my MEGAdesk. Who knew if threw your bag down haphazardly it could cover a banana you had neatly placed there?

Se7en Things

2010-03-07T17:49:00.000-08:00

Seven Songs That Given Me an Ohrwurm*:
1. Belle & Sebastian-Piazza, New York Catcher
2. Sam Adams-I Hate College (remix)
3. Deathcab for Cutie-Brothers on a Hotel Bed
4. Black Sabbath-Paranoid
5. Paul Kalkbrenner-Sky and Sand
6. Atmosphere-Sunshine
7. Lupe Fiasco-Say Somethin'

Seven TV Shows Recently Watched:
1. Lost
2. Californication
3. 90s X-Men
4. Southland
5. Smallville
6. Spartacus
7. The Office

Seven Books Recently Read:
1. Can I Keep My Jersey
2. The Bible
3. Rich Dad, Poor Dad
4. 48 Laws of Power
5. Real Estate Millionaire
6. The Alchemist
7. Marvel Graphic Novels

Seven Foods That Have Recently Entered My Full Belly:
1. Pizza with chicken, salami, and pepporoni.
2. Kit-Kats
3. Green Grapes
4. Schnitzel
5. Döner
6. Burger King
7. Chicken

Seven People I Want to Meet (Past or Present):
1. Jesus (the big guy)
2. Brett Favre
3. Nikola Tesla
4. Pete Maravich
5. Slug from Atmosphere
6. Brian Bendis
7. Jonah Hill

*Ohrwurm-An German word describing when a song gets stuck in one's head.

Mindset of a Colin

2010-02-16T10:15:00.000-08:00

Year to year it seems like I find different items in which I feel help me preform my best on the court. Now, I am not a superstitious person by nature (and I am by no means referring to steroids...and if you look at my frame, one could hardly make the argument that I am the poster child for such a drug), and at the end of the day, I realize it is both God's blessing and my hard work that allow me to compete on the court at such a high level.

That being said, I believe in the power of the mind, and any edge I can give myself mentally going into a game helps. In other words, if I believe that "Exhibit A" gives me confidence and aides me in preforming my best...than it does. It is not some supernatural power that "Exhibit A" has, which allows me to, but rather my belief in myself, that does. While I realize, that this may sound borderline nutso...to each his own, and I have verified this against my stats.

My Junior year at UAF is really when I began to hit my stride in terms of peak performance on the court, and I really haven't looked back since (not being a cocky a-hole...so quit judging). But it was also my Junior year I felt that every time I ate a Spicey Firecracker Sandwhich from Burger King the night before a game, I played very well the next day. Furthermore, a teammate of mine convinced me to drink a whole container of OJ the night before each game...so it may have been that (thanks Titus).
My Senior year in Alaska it was listening to a song by the band Elbow called, "Grounds for Divorce".
This year, my rookie season as professional here in Germany, it seems as though everytime I hear the song "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath, I have a 20+ game. Odd isn't it?

I will reiterrate, that these quirks provide me with no actual supernatural gift, and it is the work of God, and myself which aid me.

However, I believe there is something to be said for finding your pregame ritual, and sticking to it. Whether, its napping, eating a certain food, playing a certain song...or chasing your flatmate around the apartment with a sock full of AA Batteries (that was one time Hun...one time).
This concept of finding a ritual is a positive thing, as it gets you in a habit of success. It is important for a person to get in the right mind frame for the game/sales call/business meeting etc. And that is what this is.

Needless to say, from here on out...it appears I will know more Ozzy lyrics that I will care to admit.
Be that as it may, I'm going to finish strong this season, and enjoy a great career.

Basketballism

2010-02-10T14:01:00.000-08:00

As of late, it seems that I've had trouble sleeping, be it the food I eat, over-sleeping, or getting a late workout in. But tossing and turning each night has given my mind time to wander aimlessly. And in this wander, I've given a substantial amount of thought as to the role basketball has played in my life, as well as some of the finer points, which are little discussed. This entry will briefly tie in basketball to other aspects of my life, in an attempt to elaborate on the cliche, "It's more than a game." I should preface the following, by saying this account will have a more serious, introspective tone.

Basketball as Escapism

This game of mine has always been an avenue to escape from the world. It seems no matter what is going on in my life, the stress, the problems, melt away when I play the game. This no doubt amplifies my passion, for it, because it remains a positive constant in my life. For Escapism, in my mind is just another means of coping. It's how I distance myself (for better or for worse) from the mess. The more awful the issue, generally, the harder I want to push myself in my workout. My mind focuses more on each movement, the shifting of the ball, the contortion of my body, holding a strong follow through. The only thing in this universe is me, the ball, and the basket. Biologically, this makes sense, for exercise is widely considered a remarkable remedy for poor health, be it mental or physical (depending on the nature of the problem). For those of you do not know, the brain, in response to strenuous physical activity releases endorphin's into the body which give us a natural high, or an overall sense of wellness. Which is another reason I associate a positive feeling with Basketball as Escapism. Whether or not the issue is resolved when I am through with my workout, often times remains to be seen, however, it allows me tackle the problem with the proper positive mental attitude.

Basketball As Localism

There is a strong sense of community (at least from my prospective) as far playing basketball at a high level and being from Washington. I have reconnected with many guys I played with/or against in high school and college, and though we may not have necessarily been close, we share something unique in that playing basketball gave us a bond. Whether its something as simple as reminiscing about hard fought games, or sticking together in the trenches that can be a basketball season.
So when you see or hear of someone you played with/against (from WA) there is a sense of pride and a genuine sense of happiness for that person. In other words, they represent you, and you, them. Family.

Well, I promised myself I would not take you too far down the rabbit hole, that can be my contemplative thoughts, and I'll just leave you with those Basketballisms. So I hope you've enjoyed, and perhaps you understand a bit more about the intricacies that are associated with the game.

This is the Artwork Your Mother Warned You About

2010-02-09T10:09:00.000-08:00

This is a post I've been wanting to write for some time now, and what's great is that you, the reader, don't have sit through my failed attempts at humor or endless basketball ramblings.
Instead, I've elected to dedicate this entry entirely to one my passions. Graffiti.
I believe it to be unappreciated artwork. There is seemingly limitless creativity and culture that reside in urban areas, manifesting into beauty. So here are some of my favorite pieces around Cottbus, Germany (my home away from home).

[I think I hear Marx laughing]

[Down the street]

[My girl Amerika]

[Beauty in chaos]

[Revolt Noir]

[Somewhere ahead is the back of the line]

A Wonderous, Fattening Discovery

2010-02-02T09:45:00.000-08:00

So I have elected to forgo my usual blathering, for I have some amazing news. We have had two consecutive weekends off, and in that time I have made an astonishing discovery. One that is sure to forever alter the very fabric of my time here in Germany.

With my motivation for crossing the street to grocery shop dwindling (read previous entry to why this is understandably so). I have had no recourse but to order food and have it delivered to me, while it does in fact empower my laziness beyond reason, it comes in handy.

Since Day One here in Germany I have known about a little delivery marvel appreciated by much of Cottbus, and affectionately called, Pizza Amerika. While, PA (as we call it in the "Biz")***, is more or less infinitesimal in the vast universe that is pizza delivery, it is unique in it's ability to deliver pretty much any food the mind can fathom. In other words, when I have an outlandish craving, I can give Pizza Amerika a little jingle and vwalla(?) it appears at my door a mere 30 minutes later.
You're probably thinking, "Wishfull thinking fatty..."
I assure you, you as wrong as I am thankful, for such a wonderous miracle.
While, purusing the official Pizza Amerika website (I said we had 2 weekends off from games, so I have a lot of time on my hands, alright?), I nearly fell out of my chair, for I had discovered what was surely the Holy Grail of delivery menus. To my amazement the assortment of goodies reached far beyond a simple pizza. Burgers, Pasta, Chicken, French Fries, Sandwhiches, Ice Cream, Donuts, Soda, Juice, Beer, Wine, Alcohol, Milkshakes, Salads...and the list could go on like this. Needless to say, I'm happier than Tiger Woods at a Victoria Secret Fashion Show.
And While I've only ventured as far as Pizza, Burgers, French Fries, and Donuts...I will inexorably continue to order up feasts, when ever my hunger pangs couple with my laziness.
I found my calling as a Delivery Food critic, and will report back soon.

In completely unrelated news, there is a fly in my room that I have distainfully nicknamed Hydra, for I feel like every time I kill it...three more seem to appear and buzz in my face.
Anyone know the German word for Bug Zapper?

***Side note: If I ever use the phrase, "the Biz" with air quotes, please, someone push me into a woodchipper.

Colin vs. Lebensmittelgeschäft

2010-01-19T04:32:00.000-08:00

Almost bi-weekly, I open my cupboards to reach for some food in a crazed state, searching frantically for some food, only to realize that I'm fresh out of the essentials (ie Kit-Kats and easily made pasta). It was that time of month again. The time of month, I must leave the cave that has become my room, and brave the harsh winter to the nearest corner market in search of delectable's and nic-nac's (If you don't know by now I use the words "nic-nac's" as often as possible).

Now, you might be ponitificating to yourself, thinking, "Colin, why on earth would write about something as simple as going to the market, people do that everyday?"
To that I say, nay, people don't always go to THIS market, and I assure you...it is not simple.
Please allow me to elaborate.
A few times a month I venture across the street to a market, specifically, The Netto, which is supposed to be a discount market, but who's to say really?

This is a surprisingly daunting task, for my ability to speak and read German is novice at best. This in-turn makes finding foods that I deem edible and cookable, increasingly difficult. Therefore, I am reduced to my most basic instincts...I look at the pictures on the box/bag to determine if it meets my criteria (Don't smirk at me, this is like an awful game of Pictionary, where, when you lose...you lose big).
I fear, that you don't quite understand the gravity of this situaiton.
An example of me "losing big" would be the tuna fish pizza debacle. Where I unknowingly grabbed an oven baked pizza, and upon examining the box closely (Pun not intended) determined that this sausage pizza would be delicious. Eager to eat my new-found prize, I hurried home and popped it in the oven, 20 minutes later, the smell not withstanding (my sniffer failed me on this one) I took a monsterous bite, and much to the dismay of my mouth/stomach, it was not sausage that garnished my pizza, rather it was tuna fish. Horrified, I rushed to bathroom to void my mouth of all remaining tastes, and in doing so I realized my failure. I was playing Grocery Store Pictionary like a cowboy, and I lost big.

[My trusty shopping bag]

With that humbling experience clear in my mind, I now enter the Netto only with my grocery bag, and a child-like sense of wonder.
However, some time has passed since that fateful day, and I've regained some of my confidence in my ability to adequetely pick tuna-free foods. So as of late, I have been cautiously going past my 10 item rotation, into the unknown (not really, this week I'm trying home made schnitzel and lental soup).

[The cursed tuna-fish pizza]

One thing, that I absolutely love about the Netto is, it's a one-stop shop for pretty much anything a human being can conceive. In random sections you will find items you would normally find at a video store, liquor store, or homeless man's garbage bag. They have it all, egg whites to ab rippers (those belts that vibrate and supposedly give you toned abs...not that I own one...stop judging me!). I'm fascinated, each and every time I step foot inside, for surprises lurk around every pile of tuna-fish pizza boxes you see.

Needless to say, I've won some, and lost some battles at the Netto, and I've learned a few things a long the way. Soon, I am confident that I will be able to shop without reservation, reading packages left and right, juggling fruits and vegetables, even recommending the best way to serve Jägerschnitzel.
...But until that day, please pray for me, because I have no idea what I'm doing.

Thank You Santa for Friends & 70cm of Snow

2010-01-12T06:40:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm back in Cottbus after a nice holiday in the states. Although, upon stepping off the plane I was horrified, for when I looked outside I thought I had got on the wrong flight and ended up in the cold tundra that is Fairbanks, Alaska. It seems the climate of Northeast Germany neglected to ask me if I was up for another snow-filled winter, and much to my dismay went ahead dumped 70 or so centimeters of snow around the greater Cottbus-Berlin area. (I'm actually overreacting for the sake of readership, truth be told, when I walk outside to a winter wonderland and crunch the snow beneath my feet, I give it a nod and reminsce. For it reminds me of my other home, and my friends in the great state of Alaska).

My time at home was a lot of fun, I got to spend Christmas seeing friends and family that I had not seen in awhile.

I also got to spend Christmas in Boston, with my other family! And seeing Stef's neice and nephew, was about the cutest thing one could imagine.

Another pleasant surprise was an unexpected vistor in the form of one 6'8 college teammate of mine. Thats right, the one, the only Mike Anderson. His arrival in Seattle roused me and forced me to fight my bout of Jack In the Box induced food poisening. We were able to rally some friends, go out in Seattle and see rooftop fireworks from our apartment in Seattle. It really is quite the spectacle.

All in all, I had a great vacation back home to the states, but its great to be back in Germany playing the sport I love.

This Night Stuck Out like a Turd in a Punch Bowl

2009-11-27T15:36:00.000-08:00

Last night was probably one of the most fun I've had while living in Germany. It began as any other might (me uploading American TV shows on my computer), however, it was interrupted when the Point Guard on our team, Sebastian (Everyone here calls him Dikkah...which surprisingly translates into fat boy) called me and invited me for a night on the town. Dikkah and I have grown close in my time here, here reminds me somewhat of my roommate in college, and speaks very good English.

[Dikkah and I...making sexy time]

To my enjoyment, Cottbus (like most German towns) throws what is known as a Christmas Carnival, which runs from the end of November to the end of December, and celebrates...well, Christmas. Such celebrations, mainly consist of everyone gathering in the center of town, where there are many booths for drinking, food, and Christmas nic-nacs (Hi i'm 67 and have words like "nic-nacs" in my vernacular) as well as rides for the little ones. It really is a sight to behold, meaning, in my American imagination, this was how I pictured German Christmas.
Dikkah and I decided to walked around and check out the festivities, trying various food and drink. Dikkah, in attempt to culture his otherwise less-wordly teammate, assisted me in choosing the aforementioned food and drink. One of which I highly reccomend. It is called Glühwein, which is hot wine, mixed with Christmas spices and adult beverages (I liken it to what we in America drink around Christmas, hot apple cider). Keeping in the spirit of German delicacies, I also made a beeline for the Brautwurst and potatoes, thus completing my search for all things German.

[Christmas Festival; Bring on the hot wine]

We then met up with several friends of Dikkah whom he went to school with. Filling the remainder of our time together drinking more Glühwein and disscusing differences between German and American culture. At their behest I tried my best to say complex German words, I think this amused them a great deal...I need a Rosetta Stone so I can exact my revenge.
I then parted ways with Dikkah and company to meet up with another friend of mine, Sandra (a musician from Berlin) for she had scored me a free ticket to see an amazing Swedish folk band known as Friska Viljor. I recently discovered this band earlier in the week, and had been youtubing them in preparation for the concert, snowballing my excitement.

[They were bearded and wonderful]

It should be known that I love all things bizzare and out of the ordinary. Be it art, movies, clothes or music and this band certainly quenched my thirst for this odd affinity. Needless to say, Friska Viljor rocked my face competely off, playing a 2 hour set, with several encores. Pushing the crowd into music enduced frenzy, complete with European dancing and moshing (Note, I decided against participating in this, for when I pictured it, it ended in my untimely arrest for the assult of several tiny Germans...being 6'8 and 220 pounds or so, doesn't allow one to partake in moshing).
I can say without hesitation that it was the best concert I have ever seen.
Henceforth I will push Friska Viljor onto almost anyone who will listen, and tell of an amazing night.
This is Germany.

Holidays in German

2009-10-23T12:06:00.000-07:00

Unlike last post, I really have nothing to get off my chest...consider yourself lucky. I promised myself I would keep the mindless rants, laden with cynicism and hoop vernacular, to a minimum (I also promised my father I would take the time to edit this blog...so we'll see how these vows go).

One thing that saddened me upon my arrival here in Germany is learning that many of my beloved American holidays are not celebrated here in Deutschland. Most important being Halloween, Thanksgiving and Marooned Without a Compass Day (the latter being an actual holiday, November 8th). This being the month of October we will focus on Halloween.

Every year, I love thinking of creative ensembles with my friends, and planning our nights of costumed debauchery. The said nights, have since evolved from wandering from house to house asking for candy, to TP'ing houses of girls we liked, to Halloween nights at the local club/bar.

Sounds fun?

Germany has spoiled my annual night of fall fun, by not celebrating such an amazing holiday.

Well...if Germany thinks they can not celebrate my favorite holiday and get away with it...I'll tell ya what, they have another thing coming.

I have made a resolution to raise Halloween spirit in the lively city of Cottbus by dressing up in a costume (this year I have decided on a giant Rat suit), TP'ing houses, and grabbing a pint at a bar.

[If you see me milling around Cottbus with candy and TP, please don't call the Police]

However, before I rant too hard about the ineptitude in which Germans choose their holidays. I must say, the United States may have a thing or two to learn in selecting holidays of our own (Marooned Without A Compass Day notwithstanding). I would like to now share with you, a little something the Germans like to call Man's Day. And before you jump to any preconceived notions about what you make think Man's Day is, please, let me finish. I think I know where you were going with your notions...all notiony. You were thinking, Colin don't be an ass, Man's Day? Father's Day? What's the difference?

Well, I'll tell you.

Now, I was a little bit hazy on the specifics of what Man's Day entails, due to a thick German accent and a short attention span. But I think I have the gist of it.

There are about 5 things Man's Day is comprised of, and the order of operations is not important so long as each thing gets done.

These are:

1. No Women.

2. All Men and their friends go into the woods somewhere.

3. A grill, delicious meat, and sides are of utmost importance.

4. The Men drink as many Beers as they can in the allotted 24 hour period.

5. Complaining about wives and girlfriends is a must.

So, Men of America, heed these words...embrace this holiday (forget about the years of progress we've made in women's rights...for there is no Women's Day), and enjoy your day!!!

A Comparative Analysis of American v. European Coaching

2009-10-19T17:16:00.000-07:00

I suppose that my job, is in some ways, similar to anyone else's in that sometimes we are daydreaming when we should be working. Often times in practice when one is going through drills which require little focus, one's mind tends to wander.

On this particular night, while shooting with Misha (my German counterpart in the post), my wandering mind began to analyze the intricacies of basketball. Specifically, why it is that Europeans, on average, are much more versatile on the basketball court, than most American players I know. For the sake of the non-basketball readers, I shall elaborate.
The simplicity of what Misha and I were doing (i.e. practicing shooting 3 point shots, when we are post players) helped to clarify my analytical mumbo jumbo. You see, it all boils down to one simple thing, the way we are taught the game in our youth.
In other words, learning the game of basketball in Europe and learning the game in the United States are two very different things.

For example, the style of your typical American center (6'7 and above), consists of lumbering up and down the court, jumping when necessary to rebound or dunk, avoiding dribbling the ball at all costs and not shooting ball outside 15-17 feet.
Conversely, the style of your typical European center (6'7 and above), consists of alittle bit of everything. While they still lumber, jump when necessary to rebound or dunk, they can often times handle the ball, and shooting from considerably farther away than the said American.
At this point you may find yourself thinking, why on God's green Earth would the Americans not be able to do everything the Euro's could do? I mean, we spawned the sport.
I reiterate, it all boils down to vastly distinctive schools of thought.
In the United States, once a child in the basketball world reaches a certain height or weight (Usually anywhere over 6'4 and 175lbs.) The child is thrust into the confines of "the post", this means, he or she is no longer allowed to dribble the ball up the court, he or she is no longer allowed to run the court like a guard (thus, the child must make a considerable effort to rebound the shots of other teammates or opposing players), and he or she is certainly not to take a shot outside the 3 point perimeter.
Henceforth, the basketball training is now segregrated, and just like the 1950's, guards and post players are sequestered at seperate ends of the court when preforming individual training, and no integration is allowed.
In most European countries, that same child reaching that same height or weight, will still be thought of as a post player, however, European coaches see no reason why this same player should not learn every skill set, making the player more versatile, thus more valuable on the court. Thereupon, post players also practice shooting/dribbling, and guards practice post moves.
The reasoning behind this still being unbeknownst to me, however, I was able to postulate several theories, during our 3 hour practice.

Our school of thought behind indivdual training in the U.S. reflects our sentiments as country, we are stubborn and lazy. The United States believes that it is superior in its training and chooses not evolve.
Or most coaches in the U.S. are too lazy to take the time to teach to fundamentals of guard play to posts, and vice versa.

To support my wild theory, I don't have to delve into my basketball history more than year, to find the perfect example.

I am playing for the University of Alaska Nanooks, and we are nearing the end of our season, I am shooting the ball, probably better than I ever have in my career (58% FG, 51% 3PT). We are having a practice on the road in Idaho, as usual, we have have paired off into two man teams for shooting practice (One shooter, one rebounder).
After taking 20 or so shots from inside the 3 point arc, I decide it best to get some 3 point shots in (for I averaged about four 3 point shots per game, sometimes at crucial moments).
My American coach and his assitant see me stepping out and practicing 3 point shots, almost immedietly our assitant walks over and shouts at me to get back inside the 3 point line. Upon hearing this, I calmly remind him, that I am shooting over 50% from 3 point range, and it benifits the team for me to practice such a shot. Ataken back, and pride most likely hurt, our assitant (with no college basketball playing expirence to speak of) shuffles back to our coach, and whisperes, something to effect of, "Who does Colin think he is, practicing 3 point shots when he knows he is a post." This gets the attention of our head coach (a post player in his younger days), who tells me to get back inside the 3 point line. In case you aren't scratching your head hard enough, it gets a little more insane. During our water break (when shot selection isn't usually monitered), I decided to take some 3 point shots. And as I am shooting, I hear the sarcastic voice of our assitant coach, counting my misses, as if this somehow shows me the error of my ways, and I will beg his forgiveness.
This was our coaching staff, preventing me from shooting 3's, trying their best to deflate my confidence, the day before a game...

So if I may impart something to both coaches and players. It is that this game is evolving, and we as participants, must evolve with it. Coaches, take the time to work kids on ALL aspects of their game, regardless of height/weight. Players, if a coach is trying to limit you by pigeonholing you in a position, take the time on your own to practice all facets of the game. You both will be better for it. I promise you.

Close Calls & Döner's

2009-10-12T16:12:00.000-07:00

Its that time again...that's right ladies and germs (these jokes are what my life has come to), blog time. I am trying to stay faithful in updating my blog, cut me some slack.

For the sake of you the reader, I will only briefly touch on our last game.

We won! Which is becoming a habit. Already, we've won half the games that the Nanooks won last year.

[Yours truly #15]

It was, however, a nail bitter (I tried to give you the German phrase for that, but the english translation read, "One that bites fingers off"). The final being 63-61, I will be the first to admit that we came out lackadaisical, that being said, we were able come back, thus avoiding the upset. For the first time this season I was getting double teamed (and its not as sexy as one might imagine, upon hearing that I am getting double teamed). It did affect my play, and I must devise a way to play through such annoying defenses if I am to continue to be successful here.

As for my post-game activities, I spiced it up this weekend (I was running out of episodes of the OC to watch), and went to Berlin! Stefanie's friend from UAF, who oddly enough is also named Stefanie, came to our game. Not knowing many people here yet, I was thankful for such a visit. Catching a late train to Berlin and partying there was just what I needed. I know what you're thinking...Colin, you are SO European now, taking weekend trips to Berlin by train. And you're right...I am. Needless to say, it was an amazing night. We stopped for some German food, which took the form of a pita-type sandwich known here as a Döner. Then we had a few adult beverages at her friends apartment, enjoying Berlin and its nightlife.

[The infamous Döner]

As I am adjusting to life here in Germany, I am finding that I miss the little things from back home. I will now, out of sheer boredom give you a list of 5 things that Germany would do well to obtain:

1. American Football on TV.

2. Free water (they charge you for water at restaurants, and often times it more expensive than beer).

3. A decent Mexican restaurant (I can't think of a single endangered species I wouldn't poach for a mondo burrito).

4. A dryer...believe it or not, no one owns a dryer. Air drying clothes is soooo 1910.

5. A man sized blanket. Every place I've stayed here, has comforters made for hobbits...making my clown feet stick out more than they normally would.

Now to be fair and not sound like a whinny ingrate, I will now list 5 things that make Germany utterly superior to the United States:

1. There are no homeless people here...in every major city in the U.S. you can't walk down the street without tripping over a dirty hobo.

2. Beer (this is obvious).

3. The nightlife...bars, clubs, parties end in the U.S. around 1 or 2am. Whereas, here, they literally party until day break, and then sleep till 3. Most stores are not even open on Sundays for this very reason.

4. The Metric system...once you learn it, you realize how ass-backwards/stubborn the United States is.

5. Hooligans...every city truly LOVES their sports teams. I have to say it feels good to feel appreciated (especially since, the last two years we averaged 103 fans per game at UAF).

That about wraps up this weeks session.

I hope you enjoyed it, and continue to read....please?

Jokes. Again.

This is Germany.

White Devil Victories and Late Nights

2009-09-29T04:48:00.000-07:00

I am please to announce that in our first game, BBC Cottbus White Devils dismantled BC Greifswald (I was tempted by the obvious, giving Grief to Greifswald joke...but I refrained, for your sake).

I don't like to talk heavily about intricacies of the game in this blog. So for the sake of readership, I will lightly touch upon the game.

(Cottbus #1)

Greifswald, from everything I heard, one of the worst teams in our league. Which showed on the scoreboard, the final being something to effect of 87-46. Without sounding too conceded, I will highlight my stats. I had 10 points, all insided (which is where I play this season), 8 rebounds, 3 assists, 2 steals and 1 block....and with my head hung low, 4 fouls.

I was frustrated by the referees here in Germany. I, being from the United States, am used to a very physical game down low, with my many elbows to the face, and pushing...jockying for pos-ish...as we say in the Biz. But here, to my surprise, such things are not allowed, resulting in the said, 4 fouls. This hampered my play, because I was on the bench more than I would have liked to be. That being said, I was please with my play, and a 40 point "W" beats a kick in the teeth.

Post game was the most fun. Fans in Europe really love their sports, I suppose thats why the term Hooligan was coined. Basketball, though far behind Soccer in popularity, still manages to reel in fans. We had our arena packed for the game, complete with signs, drums, and crabettes (cheerleaders)...the latter sounding like seafood snack. After the game, we dance and clap at center court, which was both fun and amusing to me. This followed by a victory lap, high-fiving fans. We love our fans, and they love us.

After the game, we enjoyed food at an American Diner/Bar called Jimmy's...which is probably one of the better places to eat in town. It is nice to do things as a team...with my former team, this never happened. Much to my dismay...water is not free with dinner...in fact it is more expensive than most beers. Nicht goot.

After dinner, one of our boosters, was throwing a party for the guys, and a girls birthday. This was a lot more fun than I had anticipated. However, before we could take part in the festivities, the Americans and I retired to an apartment to watch some American Football. What can I say...I am American, and I need my fix.

Speaking of everything American...Brett Farve had an amazing game, completing the game with an amazing 40 yard pass to win. A good night.

We then made our way to the party, which at first started slow, but then I ended up having a great time. German beer, is a little tough on my American stomach, but I suppose there is no Natty-Light over here.

The Germans had fun teaching us German phrases and laughing...probably at our expense. And the Americans had fun, saying complex phrases and watching the Germans try to comprehend.

All in good fun!

I was shocked at how long they party over here. If partying were track meets, America is all about sprinting to the finish. Germany, on the other hand, run marathons. I left, exhausted at 330 am. And much to my amazement...the party went until 5am.

As we were saying most of the night:

This Is Germany.

It's Been A Long Time Coming

2009-09-27T02:28:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

I am back blogging again. The first attempt suffering at the hands my apathy. I also led a pretty boring life...not much to blog about.

However, much has changed, after a summer of endless workouts and waiting by the phone, I have finally signed my first professional contract to play in Germany for the BBC Cottbus White Devils (the irony of me being as white as I am, playing for a team called the White Devils is not lost on me).

For those of you who don't know where Cottbus is (the majority of you), Cottbus is in North East Germany, about an hour outside of Berlin. The town has a little over 100,000 people in it.

[I live in tab C]

I play for the only Basketball Club and there is one Soccer club, FC Energy.

From what I understand our Soccer club is good, so needless to say, I'm excited to hop on this ban wagon and become an FC Energy hooligan.

Our first game is today! We play Greifswald at 4pm (5am West Coast Time).

www.whitedevils.com

-C