This Night Stuck Out like a Turd in a Punch Bowl

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

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

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

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

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

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