The First Week

As I sit down to write this, Tuesday, May 28th, I have been in Germany for one week. It's a funny thing to put a label on the length of an experience; every single experience varies so much from the next that there really is no way to quantify one to another. Strictly defining something in periods of time, sure, that makes sense: every week contains the same amount of seconds, minutes, hours, days. But the experiences that fill those weeks come up against each other and defy comparison. Especially the last two weeks I've had: last Tuesday I landed here, not knowing anyone or really anything of the place, the Tuesday before I was a day into the last week together with my best friends in my home. I picked MJ up at the airport for our time together two weeks ago today. I can mark the amount of time with the construct of weeks, but so much more lies beneath the surface. Comparing May 14th-May 28th to, say, February 14th-February 28th displays the incredible power of experiences and time, along with the fickle nature of our units of measuring them.

Enough of the nonsensical existential ramblings; I reread Faulkner's As I Lay Dying this week on my Kindle (thanks Aunt Mary, using it every day) and finished it this afternoon so the influence of that probably seeped into the post. Quick note: if you haven't read it, do it. You need to. If only to prep for the James Franco adaption that's premiering at Cannes or because the title sounds sufficiently angsty for you--although it's not like that, it's so much more. Especially after rereading it (addendum, if you have read it before, especially several years ago, possibly in Mr. Connell's AP American Lit class, reread it) I put it up against Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man as my favorite book. Or, if not my favorite in reality, the answer I give when people ask me because I can't choose one. It's that damn good. Enough that I don't care too much about looking like an annoying lit-snob to recommend it so enthusiastically to anyone who might read this.

This was, to put it simply, an incredible week. Like I said, I came here without knowing really anyone here or anything about the place. I can confidently say that after a week I'm more comfortable than I imagined I could be, and that I have some great teammates who will be counted as treasured friends by the end of this experience. As I traverse Germany and everything that goes along with that, I have two fantastic guides in my American housemates/teammates, Mitch and Steve. I'm thankful that they arrived so much sooner than I did, by forty days. They know the lay of the land, which means the not only the practical things, like the layout of the pedestrian area of Osnabruck, ways to walk in Wallenhorst, the village/town/suburb we live in (founded circa 851 AD, whoa), and the bus routes to and from the city and the gym we lift at, but also how to approach practices and acclimating to a new, unfamiliar set of circumstances. Steve was joking with me yesterday after we tried to buy bus passes that the driver looked over Steve's shoulder to me, as if I could speak German any better than he could. The funny thing is I can't, because all that I know he has taught me. We've been to the city three or four times now, and walking in the town once. Good times. Hopefully, I'll be as familiar with the place as they are.

Take a bow, guys. Once you get off the bus and your phones.

Other teammates are great as well. It's an interesting dynamic, especially with another group of teammates, the other imports. In addition to we three Americans, there are three Serbian players. We form a kind of haphazard fraternity, both groups being Others here. We are quite different from each other, but still together within that Otherness. We have a good time together; they're all great guys. Branko, Vlad, and Strahinja. They provide a parallel to the American group; Branko and Vlad are older, more experienced, while Strahinja is young. All three are among the best players I have been around. I'm happy to be able to play with them. I'd especially hate to be a corner covering Strahinja or a linebacker having the misfortune of encountering either Vlad or Branko in the open field. 

The Germans, last but not least, have been more welcoming than I could've ever imagined. I felt at home immediately at the first practice, as all of the guys took the initiative to introduce themselves before I could even begin to put names to faces. Don't worry guys; I'm picking it up as we go. I'm already pretty good on a lot of people. Steve says the trick if I don't remember a name is to guess Bjorn, and if not Bjorn, Sebastian. Then I'm out of luck. Just joking, guys. But we do have quite a few Bjorns and Sebastians. Because of this immediate camaraderie, both practices (we practice Wednesday and Friday evenings, 7:15 PM or so til we're done) have been fun and the game was fantastic. 

We played in Lubeck for the first game, which was supposedly five hours away but felt like twenty-five. As you see above, we travel in style. The bus is pretty cool looking, and not terribly shabby on the inside either. I did a lot of reading and napping on the ride there. It was like any other bus ride to an away game, minus  the bus driver smoking a cigarette in the bus. That provided some culture shock.

We were lucky to play because, as you can see in the picture above, it rained from the beginning of the day til the game ended. In our league, the GFL2, most teams play on soccer fields. The owners of these fields don't take kindly to their being torn up by the upstart American footballers, so many times when it rains, the games are cancelled. All games in a nearby region were cancelled, but Lubeck's field crew did a good job and we were able to play. Not only could we play, but, given the conditions, the field was in tip-top shape.

The game itself was a familiar experience. Pregame was the same as most any other football game I have played: the tense, determined individual organization and donning of equipment and uniforms surrounded by others doing the same in their own way, in their own world, the terse conversations between nervous teammates whose minds are occupied with the uncertain events of an hour into the future. I even delivered a familiar pregame prayer after being asked to. Having similar preparations really helped keep me comfortable with playing. We weren't sure how much I would be able to play, since I had only two practices under my belt and jetlag was still a pressing concern to everyone but me. I felt ready. Nervous, but ready. Mitch and I decided that I would play as much as I could within reason, and I would handle my substitutions accordingly. I'm happy to say that I was able to play every offensive snap. Our running plays are similar to plays I've run my entire football career, so I was able to run those easily, and Mitch explained the pass plays to me when we would break the huddle. I was happy to see that I could pick the game up quickly. I can attribute my readiness to all of my training during track season and afterwards and to all of the time I spent in the past four years at Kenyon, learning plays and how offenses work. I'm still working on learning all of the pass plays, and while it's coming along slowly, I feel that I'll have command of them sooner rather than later. Personally, I was able to contribute to the team immediately, which was exactly what I wanted. I finished with 20 carries for 73 yards, a touchdown (1 yard) and a two-point conversion along with 5 catches for 89 yards. So, not a bad day. The competition was in some ways better than I expected; in others it was much worse. The crowd was louder than I imagined it could be; European sports fans blur the line between passion and insanity, and not just for soccer. But what really matters is that we were able to win. We beat a good team that had won its last game 63-0, and, if not for penalties and mistakes on our part, I believe we could have beaten them much more handily than 26-20. I'm excited to play them again, to see how we'll match up in the second game. Everyone that played contributed to the win, and the team dynamic is as good as most teams I have played on.

I can't say enough about my German teammates and their commitment to the game. In the grand scheme of things as I understand, for most of them, football is little more than a glorified activity, a club they join. They don't receive a ton of recognition outside of people associated with the program, and with the program being such a niche subculture in the larger context of things, they're not half as appreciated as even the Kenyon Football team is back home. But when it comes down to the individual's approach to things, that doesn't stop them from being passionate about the game and really dedicating themselves to the team. These are people that I am proud to count as teammates, and that I will play as hard as I possibly can for.

So, here I am, one game into a long season, one week into a long stay. To revisit my opening remarks, time doesn't feel real. I look ahead, and everything is uncertain, but filled with potential, mostly because even though I am comfortable I am still far from settled in. I look behind, and the huge events that I came from lend a possibly unnecessary weight to the going-ons of my day to day life now. Once I get all of my firsts out of the way I can sink into a routine, shake off the novelty of things and become a part of life here. Or maybe that will never happen. Either way, I'm happy. My head is still a good amount back home, along with the entirety of my heart, but it's not a bad split. Missing something or someone that is worth missing isn't tragic; it's a part of life. I'm thankful I was able to learn that during my last semester at school, rather than learning it now. Decisions are made, adjustments are made to those decisions accordingly, and life goes on. Right now, I'm doing my best to go along with it. Just like you told me to.


*Throughout my entire crazy, amazing senior year, Kenyon's PR departments were very kind to me. Most recently, the sports media people published an article on the athletics page about my trip here and my first game. Unfortunately, I can't access the Kenyon Athletics page in my house, or maybe not even over here at all, or I would share the link here. But I can access the YouTube video interview that went along with it, so I'll share it here. Thanks to everyone who was interested enough in my trip to write, read, and watch these things. It's always nice to be recognized.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PoRMY79OJTY

Departures and Arrivals

We got up to leave home for the airport at 5:20 AM EST on Monday the 20th of May. Needless to say, the preceding weekend was a bit of a blur. Saturday was graduation from Kenyon, which meant the morning ceremony, saying goodbye to as many friends as I could (not nearly enough, damn indoor ceremony), packing up my apartment and leaving there by 5 PM. Then a late dinner (Chesterland Mexican, thank you for being adventurous MJ) and one last fire in the backyard. Sunday was unpacking the packed boxes and repacking them in my four bags, with limited space, because of all of my football equipment. I had to bring my helmet and shoulderpads, along with 2 pairs of cleats and the rest of the assorted accessories needed for the game. Taking breaks to run around the backyard with the neighbors' dog Red and finish watching Silver Linings Playbook with MJ were absolutely essential in maintaining sanity. Surprisingly enough, the bag that held those was the lighter of the two that needed to be under 50 pounds. Then one last service at Parkside Church (again, thank you MJ), and relaxing as much as we could until bed. I can't being to describe how important that last night was, being able to spend it with my family, especially the adopted member. Leaving both my adopted home forever (Kenyon) and the home I've known my entire life for a while (Chesterland) was daunting, but manageable with support.

Back to the morning of departure. The car ride was the quickest ride to Cleveland airport I've ever experienced, sitting in the backseat with MJ and speaking with Dad every few minutes while I took in as much of home as I could before leaving it. We were at the airport before I even got uncomfortable in the car. Wasn't this the same drive that seemed to take forever when I had to pick up Justin from the airport the time he missed his flight? I suppose so. The circumstances, though, change everything.

Thankfully when we got to Cleveland Hopkins Airport Dad was able to go in for a few minutes to make sure I wasn't totally overwhelmed. Flying is not something I do often; this is only the second trip I've ever made, and the first major one. First time out of the country, ever. We got my bags checked and said goodbye. See you soon. Since she was flying out after me, MJ got to be with me until I boarded. So, she was my airport guide, my own personal Beatrice, as Professor Shutt would say. And she truly is my Beatrice, in more ways than one. For now, I'll just say that she kept me afloat through an unfamiliar journey, and taught me the things I would need to know for the next 3 airports I would visit. For the third time, thank you. I have no idea where I would be without you, in so many respects. In this respect, I would probably still be wandering around La Guardia or the back alleys of NYC trying to find JFK. So we sat at the gate, wishing that time could stand still. Eventually I was called to board, and we said goodbye. I'm glad we both looked back. The five days we got were, as a whole, a blurry rush, but the time we had together is crystal clear and will be in my mind often, treasured above all else. Again, see you soon.

So I left Ohio, finally. This will be the first time that I will live outside the state I was born and grew up in, in so many ways. It was a bittersweet departure; I have no great love for Ohio, but I must admit whatever love I do have is a profound one. Home is home, life is life. In true Ohio fashion, though, before it could let go of me there was an hour-long runway delay because of fog in NYC. The bigger place wasn't ready to bother with visitors from somewhere unimportant. Typical. During the delay I opened my book of choice for travel,  Professor Kluge's Gone Tomorrow. The first thing I saw was a shock: a card, one that I had hoped to see sometime, but at the moment was altogether unexpected. I got to read it then and there and have read it probably 20-some times since then, while traveling and since I have arrived. It means the world to me and will be read many more times throughout my time here and the rest of my life.

One of my main goals here in Germany, along with being the best football player I can be and seeing as much of this land and others as I can, is to use my down time to read and write as much as I can. Once I got in the air from Cleveland the bug bit the first time. I wrote a bit on my iPod notepad; like the fool I am I forgot to pack a physical notepad or pen. Here's what I wrote:

Passing over the land below, through wisps of clouds, green fields and grey roofs of houses like miniature models, roads and rivers like veins leading to the epicenters of little towns and snaking through perforating the grid, baseball diamonds off the grey of the highway like jumbled pieces of pie. The lake underneath, grey and green and alarmingly mostly brown, but looming nonetheless. Goodbye Ohio, goodbye love, goodbye life. Hello New York.

A little sentimental and crappy, yeah, but I don't know how it wouldn't have been at that moment.

I landed at La Guardia Airport in NYC and took a shuttle immediately to JFK. This was much easier than I expected, and I found that I enjoy traveling: the bustle of the airport, the obvious signage directing the herds of people around here and there, the dirty cocktail of strange people and strange languages floating through the place. Unfortunately, once I arrived at JFK I found out why I had such a long (from 9:45 AM to 5:15 PM) layover there: the service for Air Berlin, the partner of American Airlines I would be flying on, didn't start until 1:30 in the afternoon. I arrived around 10:15 in the morning. Surprisingly, there were no seats anywhere in the lobby, and with nowhere to check my bags, I was stuck there. So I set up shop against a wall, read my card a time or two, and delved deeper into Gone Tomorrow. 

I navigated the airport well, so after three goodbye calls I was ready to board. Almost everyone on the flight was a German heading home, so the language barrier reared its ugly head for the first time. The man I sat with was very nice, but seemed to only know a few words in English. So...it was a long flight with the close quarters. It was alright though; I was so excited to be flying and looking out the windows and reading so I didn't care.

The reading was fantastic. Fellow Kenyon alums (yikes, first time saying that) should take it upon themselves to read this incredible book. I realize that I'm biased to like the book, being a Kluge follower, but overall it was a well-written love-letter to writing and Kenyon. There were many moments that I laughed out loud, mostly from simply imagining Kluge doing what he described his protagonist doing, and a few where I came right up to tears. It is a surreal experience, reading a book, imagining the author's own voice and style of dictation and being able to envision the settings not out of imagination, but memory. The reading reminded me that I will be back to Kenyon, very soon. That it's home. I finished it halfway through the ride to Dusseldorf, so sleeping was hard without something to really distract me from my thoughts, but that was fine. Expected. Then a 4:15 breakfast woke me when I finally drifted off. My only question was why now? Oh well.

We landed in Dusseldorf well, and I managed to navigate well again and only confused the passport agent with my poor pronunciation of Osnabruck for a quick minute. I'll get it down eventually. I found my teammate quickly upon picking up my luggage, which was fortunate, and we took the long (2 hour) drive from Dusseldorf to Osnabruck. That wasn't terrible, apart from a long delay after what looked like a horrible accident. The Autobahn is no joke. Although this did happen:

Apparently public urination isn't as frowned upon in Germany as in the US. Interesting. 

When I arrived at the Klietsch household, I was welcomed with open arms. I met my American teammates and roommates soon thereafter, and they took me around the city on their own volition. Thanks, guys. I think we'll have a great time together, we already have an easy camaraderie after 2 days. The city was amazing, with the modern shops and places right next to buildings from the 16th Century. I have plenty of pictures on Facebook, so here I'll just share a nice photo from the City hall of Erich Maria Remarque, who wrote the WWI classic All Quiet on the Western Front. Hopefully I can channel him a bit while I'm here. Without the war and loss of innocence stuff.

That was Day 1. Day 2 I slept til noon to avoid jetlag and had my first practice. I loved it. Great team, great guys, great to be back on the field. I struggled a bit on the playing surface, old school carpet-like turf, but I'll adjust. I'll write more about the football stuff in other posts, but for now I'll come to a close. I'm waking up at 6:30 in the morning to catch the bus and workout with Mitch and Steve, so I should probably get some sleep. For now, I'll just leave a picture of my jersey that I got to see today, and say thank you to everyone who helped me in getting over here, from Chesterland, Gambier, and in Osnabruck itself. I can't tell you how excited I am for the rest of this journey, or maybe I should say trek, to keep in line with this blog's title.