Amerikaner vor dem Reds

Here is an article that was recently written about me in the newspaper. You can go to www.Freetranslation.com if you want to translate it. It is rough, but you get the idea.

http://www.cannstatter-zeitung.de/lokal/lokalsport/sportnews/Artikel374915.cfm

The Big Home Opener

April 25, 2009 - The big day has come for the Stuttgart Reds. The home opener. This club really makes a big deal out of it. It's picture day (team and individual shots), throwing out the first pitch, music, barbecue and the works. Gotta admit, I was a bit excited myself.

The morning started off early because we needed to get to the ball park to take the team and individual pictures with the club directors. It was a beautiful day with a rich blue sky and a perfect 70 degrees. With the individual pictures, I had to show all the boys how to take their pictures. Make sure the number on the front is showing, pitchers with gloves, fielders with bats, no goofey smiles... The whole team stands behind the photographer and makes faces at the guy getting his picture taken. Ballplayers are the same no matter where you go!

After pictures, I was introduced to the owners of the TVC club. That is the club that basically owns our club. Haven't me them yet. They seemed to be pretty well off. One of the guys had blue tinted glasses. Must have money with glasses like that. See, when you have money, and you wear blue tinted glasses, you have class and style. When you are poor and wear blue tinted glasses, you're just going to get your ass kicked and probably get picked on a lot.

Each time I meet a board member or someone important, they ask me how the season will go and note that they have high expectations for this season. "There is no reason we can't do well with the talent we have. Only time will tell if the boys can do it on the field..." I have that speech memorized at this point I've repeated it so much.

Robert Kupka is a Czech that only speaks German. He is the Baseball director and I guess is my boss. He only speaks about 10 words of English, so you can imagine our interactions are interesting. Before each game, he comes to me and says "Bret. Today I want to win!" "OK" I think to myself. No problem.

The music is cranking already and a little speech from yours truly to the troops. I have a ton of these stored up, so I decided to pick the "It's Up To You..." speech. You know, the one where you can achieve whatever your want, but only if you put the time, effort and attitude into it. Blah, blah, blah... "There's no reason why we can't..." Ended it with "It's Up to you!" That ought to get their heads on straight and make them realize they can do anything their minds are set to. Feeling pretty good about the attitudes now. It's a can't miss! (note foreshadowing)

After running, stretching and warm-ups, it's time for the ceremonial first pitch and it's the owner with the blue tinted glasses. I am leaving his name out only because it alludes me at the moment. Pretty important guy, so I should probably know it! In perfect New York fashion, I yell "Don't bounce it" and then realize the error of my ways after it is too late. I don't think he heard me. Thank god.

I let one of our young pitching talents, Germaine Brunswick, take the hill for the first game (kid is throwing close to 90 already). Gave him a taste of all the excitement. The stands were starting to fill up and this kid will be great one day. Plus, I made that amazing speech a little while ago, so it's a can't miss. We were playing Lauf, a team that just moved up from the lower leagues and were unknown. In batting practice, they had some big guys putting balls out of the park, so I figured they were ok.

In the first inning, my pitcher hit 2 guys and we made 3 errors. I think we gave up 4 runs to start the game. Not exactly what I had in mind. By the time the game was done, we had made about 8 errors and hit 6 batters! A new league record!!

Evidently we get to pick entry music when we come to bat. I didn't pick anything, so when I was announced, the theme from Magnum PI was promptly played. Too bad I can't grow a mustache. The pitcher is throwing pretty good (about 85 mph), so I'm ready for him. First pitch, "Crack!!!" Nope, not a homerun, but a fastball right on the inside of the right elbow! Son of a bitch! The pain is immediate and I loose all feeling in my hand. Run down to first like it didn't hurt. Can't show any weakness. "Where did it get you" the first baseman asks. "Inside of the elbow". "That sucks" he said. I ended up scoring from first on a double in the gap, but quickly realized I couldn't straighten my arm out.

My next at bat, I attempted to swing a weighted bat on the side and it was a no go. Already announced me and I hear my Magnum PI theme, so I have to bat. Laid down a beautiful drag bunt since I couldn't swing and the third baseman made a beautiful barehanded play. Just got me. Took myself out of the game and the rest of the day. Guess I don't get to pitch today!

Game two comes along and I'll skip to the final inning. The game is tied 7-7 and we only made a few mistakes, so we are doing well. My reliever had pitched the final three innings really well and got 2 outs. Their big number 4 hitter came up with bases empty. Two quick strikes. Since I'm calling the game from the dugout, I call for a pitch way outside (nothing good). Poor guy pipes a fastball right down the middle and "Bombs away!". Home run over the left-center fence! We're down 8-7. We come up in the bottom half and start off with a base hit. I have the next batter lay down a bunt to move the runner over, only the ball never hits the ground. It pops straight up, the catcher catches it, and throws to first to get a double play!!!! Our next batter got a single, so with a runner on second, we would have tied the game. A third out happens and that's the ball game. Now we are 1-3 and digging ourselves a little hole.

The First Appearence

April 18, 2009 - We interupt this blog to link to my first official appearence on the mound. I'll get back to all the other stuff again, because there are a whole bunch of experiences I want to share.

http://www.stuttgart-reds.de/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=211&Itemid=1

Our first official league games are a pair of games in Memmlsdorf, which is about 3 hours north of Stuttgart. Our game starts at 1 PM, and with travel and stuff, I have to leave the apartment at 7:30. I think it's going to be a long day. Not to mention, it's raining again! and 40 degrees! What happened to summer.

I arrived at Bad Cannstatt train station to meet Ruben in the club van. I'll introduce you to him later. He's a funny guy and seems to always get the American says wrong. The best one yet was "Bret, were you fucked off at yesterdays practice?" What he was trying to say was "were you pissed off". It makes for good fodder.



We hop in the team bus and go to the complex to meet the rest of the team. Still raining and now we have to cram everyone in this 10 passenger bus. Usually the coaches sit in the front (one driving and one riding shotgun). With this particular bus, only Ruben can drive, so Micha (Assistant Coach) and myself both sit up front. Micha is about 6 foot 190 lbs, so he's not that small.

For three hours, in a cramped, wet bus, we rode to Memmlsdorf. I sat at an angle with one cheek off the seat and the side support sticking in my back. Micha sat at the same angle so we both could fit. Nothing like riding in style!

"Can we play in this" I asked Micha. "I call and they say it rains light and will be clear later" he says in the Terminator voice.



As we drive on, it rains harder and harder. It's going to suck to get there and turn around and drive back.

We stop along the way in a rest stop with no facilities, so like ballplayers do, we lineup along the road and fire away. Baseball players are pretty much the same where ever you go.



We arrive in Memmlsdorf and it's a small German town like you would imagine from a postcard. They have a schloss (castle) that greets us as soon as we get off the autobahn. This one has oninon shaped domes all over and an amazing laberynth garden.

As we weave through town and tiny side streets so small you couldn't get 2 Mini's through, we come upon a sports complex. Quickly into the locker room to change and then a 1/2 mile hike to the field. I see nothing buck soccer fields. Finally, after hoofing it for a while, we come upon a cow pasture looking field that has a small backstop. This isn't anything like our home field!

Still raining, we go through our warmup routine and stretching. The grass is wet and thick. A little batting practice and we were ready to go. I had to exchange lineup cards and meet the umpires. Thank god most speak English because there are some funky rules. Will tell you about those later.

I take the mound for the bottom half of the first inning and I'm so amped up, I can't see straight. Maybe it's because I drank a Red Bull and I didn't even need it. Good nights sleep and adrenaline already!!! My warm up pitchs are all high and hard. I better fix myself or I will be walking the whole lineup.

First batter steps in and looks fast, but I can tell by the way he's holding the bat, that's all he's got. Just as I thought, first three pitches were high and hard. Gota relax. Threw a couple strikes to bring the count full. Addi, who is catching has learned I love my changeup. He calls it. Good call Addi, I like you already. Toss in the change and the batter swings out of his shorts.

Glad I got that over with. First strkeout. Got the next two guys and a gounder and lazy fly. 1-2-3 inning is a good start.

Second inning started like the first. Struck the first guy out and got another quick out. Third batter hits a ground to second and our second baseman kicks it towards our shortstop and our shortstop kicks it into center. They are both hispanic, so maybe they though they were playing soccer! A hit and another couple errors and before we knew it, they scored 4 unearned runs. Had to strike the last guy out to get out of the inning.

Third inning went pretty much the way the first did. 1-2-3 and I was done. Not bad, but wasn't hitting my spots and had way too much energy. All in all, I had a good time and was happy to get the first one over with. When I left, it was 4-4, but our next reliever (how has been our best releiver in the preseason) coughed up 10 runs in 4 innings, all earned. Poor guy couldn't throw a strike. Lost that game 14-8

Next game went well. We rolled and beat them 14-5 and defense fell into place, offense hit the ball and the game went like it should have. Time to go home for another game tomorrow in Sindlefingen.

Didn't get home until midnight. I think tomorrow is going to be a long day.

To the Field, Mach Scnell!!

I wake up from a weird night of sleep. Couldn't really sleep, but I was exhausted. What time is it. My body is still on New Mexico time, but it is morning here. I think I am screwed up because it is like 1 AM in New Mexico. No dogs to walk or Lisa to talk to. This may be the beginning of being homesick. If there wasn't so many new things, I think I would be.

At 2 PM, Tina was going to come pick me up to register me for everything I could possibly imagine. Tina is on the club board and helps run the women's softball team. She is Croatian and has the Eastern block look about her. After about 30 seconds of small talk, she says "so, let's go" and we were off to who knows where. We hop in her Audi 100. That model was like 15 years old, but the car is in tip top shape, so no worries (note foreshadowing).

She starts telling me about all the stuff we are about to do and I'm just nodding along like my Mike Piazza Bobble Head. First stop, I thought was the bank. We had to take a little number and wait. Our number lights up and we go through a door to a long counter. The lady helping us speaks no English and she and Tina start yacking on about something. I don't see any money changing hands at any of the other counters. I don't think this is a bank. Tina hands me a form and says "Fill this out". Crap, everything is in German. They lady asks us to step outside as we fill out the forms.

My first German lesson. Tina walks me through the form, but tries to lead me in getting the answers so I actually learn what the words mean. Very thoughtful. Address! Shoot, I don't know where I live. The description "Above the theatre with the big head on it" just won't do. We try calling Ralf, but no answer. She grabs a phone book from the counter and looks up the theater company. Genius! We're in business.

We go back into the lady who is processing something and after about 10 minutes of conversation between the two of them, she asks me for my place of birth. That's it. I know you guys said more than that. I couldn't help but think of the movie "Lost in Translation" with Bill Murray and Scarlet Johannsen (schwing!). "New York" I responded. Another 10 minutes of back and forth and Tina said, "that will be fine". What? What was all the other stuff! So this ended up being my registration with the city or state or country (I'm still not sure). Evidently this is very important.

Next stop, the bank! This was how I was going to get paid, so this was pretty important. The club does direct deposit for my salary, so I was eager to get this done. We get to the teller. No bullet proof glass or high counters. She was sitting in a chair below us. Tina starts in with the teller. About 10 minutes of back and forth. Evidently we need an appointment to open a bank account. There must be more than that. I gotta be missing something. She hands me a slip and my appointment is 10 days from now! Geeze, I guess bank accounts are in high demand in Germany! So we leave there and we try to find something to eat.

We are in the Time Square of Stuttgart, so there is everything you can imagine. She says "Do you like Sushi?" "Of course" I reply. We go over to a very German looking sushi place, but it's not open. "How about Chinese?" Where is all this Bratwurst and meat I heard about? It's buffet style and I must say was really good. They don't use MSG here, so it was good stuff.

Off to the field to meet the team. I was really excited. Meeting a new team for the first time is always exciting. Sizing the other guys up, seeing if they are as manly as you. Mental jousting. We hop into Tina's Audi. It's raining pretty hard and I asked her "will they still be practicing?" "Oh yeah" she replied. "You would be amazed at the rain we play in". In New Mexico, if it might rain, we cancel games.

Sitting in traffic, Tina starts cursing in German. "What's wrong?" I ask. "My stupid car is having trouble". No sooner than 2 minutes later, a sputter, a cough and the car dies! We are in the middle of downtown Stuttgart, it's pouring rain and we're sitting in the middle of traffic. She gets it going enough to get it over to the side. "Get out!" she says. "In Germany, you can't sit in a car on the side of the road".

There we are standing next to her Audi in the pouring rain. "What are we waiting for" I say with a bit of sarcasm. "The car club will come fix the car". Wow, that should be great. 45 minutes go by and we have talked about everything from health care, to kids to how her boss hit on here on their last business trip. Finaly, here comes a yellow van with "ACAD". The driver pops out and he talks to Tina a big and grabs his tool box. The hood is popped and he's in there working. Pulls out something that has to do with the alternator, adjusts it and charges the battery and sure enough, the Audi comes to life! Are you kidding me. I guess they are all engineers here.

It's pretty late at this point and I'm wondering if the guys will still be there. We get there and it's dark at the field and we make our way to the dugout and I shake a bunch of hands and Tina says "let's go". Don't know where, but I will follow.

We end up at a traditional small German restaurant and there were a handful of players there that I got to meet. Beer is flowing and here comes my first Bratwurst. I guess I've arrived.

Home Sweet Home

March 25th Continued... - Rolling into Stuttgart, I can't tell what the city is like. Didn't really get to see any big veranda's or huge sky scrappers. Kind of just all of a sudden appeared into downtown just like that. Drove by a ton of night clubs along the main strip on Rotebuhlstrasse and then came upon my building. It was above a theater company that had a huge head of some dude on top of the entrance. It was mid size, but big enough to show professional productions of plays that were on Broadway. I wonder if the dialogue is in German?

Across the street was a huge Gothic church (St. John's Church) that had a pond in front of it with ducks and turtles. Flanked on the left was a cool cafe that had an outdoor patio. Of course I didn't come to actually appreciate all this stuff until a week after I arrived. It was cold and rainy. About 40 degrees to be exact.

Ralf and I made our way to the back entrance with my bags and began the hike up to the 4th floor to my new place. Damn these bags are heavy! He fiddles with the door and we're in. I knew it was going to be small, so I wasn't surprised when it was a bedroom, kitchen (I mean closet) and bathroom (I mean closet). For me, it was just fine, because I could cook and Ralf promised me an Internet connection.

They set me up with the essentials. Towels, soap, white bread, American cheese, beer, 5 types of ham, orange juice and spaghetti. What else could a guy ask for. "We need to drink beer!" Ralf said. "You will learn that Schwabian's celebrate beer".

"What's a Schwabian?" I said. I thought I was in Germany! "This is the Schwabian region and we speak differently and our customs are our own". Crap, I just spent $500 on Rosetta Stone and they didn't mention anything about Schwabian German.

This was the moment of truth. I didn't see an Internet cable and I was curious as to how I was going to communicate with Rocky Mountain Tours (and my wife for that matter). He pulled out a little white stick. It was a city wide Internet connection.

It took a few minutes to get set up, but once we did, it worked pretty well. I can't really stream video that well, but good enough for my Magic Jack.

After a little hanging out, Ralf took off and I was alone in my abode. I was hungry and wasn't in the mood for Grilled cheese and spaghetti. Time to venture out.

It was pouring rain and I didn't have any rain gear. We don't need that shit in New Mexico. Started walking down my street and found a very traditional looking German restaurant. It was really intimidating. Surely they didn't speak English in there. Moved on to a hip looking place that seemed to serve food, but I couldn't tell if it was open. I pulled on the door and it seemed to be locked. I ran away before anyone could ask me anything. It's cold and I'm hungry and wet and I'm in Germany.

After walking another 15 minutes and not having any luck, I decided to go back to "John Doe's". That was the hip place I tried first. I saw people in there, so it must be open. I tried the door again. Still locked. "Drucken" it said. I tried to push and magically the door opened. Damn that was tough.

I get to the counter and ask the girl, "Sprechen sie english?". "Yeah, a little" she said half heatedly. "Can I have the lasagna" I said. It was the only thing I could decipher on the menu because it wasn't in German. It was Italian and that I could read! I sat there and ate my pasta and drank a beer and called it a night. So far, cold, rainy and I can't talk to anyone. I has to get better!

Getting to Stuttgart

March 25, 2009 - So I make my way off Air India in a bewildered state kind of like those Dawn of the Dead movies. Kind of stumbling, eyes can't focus on anything and pretty sure I am drooling or did druel at some point in the last few hours. I know I have to go through customs. This was a really exciting and nervous time. This was my first try at using my Irish Passport. I was able to attain dual citizenship because my grandparents were from Ireland. My wife keeps telling me I am like Jason Bourne from the Bourne Identity series because I have two passports, European bank accounts... She is the Bourne version of a treky!

I wanted to choose the line that had the most people in it thinking the customs agent would want to get through the line quickly, but not much happening. No one going through. I approach on high alert. "Guten Tag" and hand him my passport. It's green and says a whole bunch of shit in Gaelic. God, I hope he doesn't ask me who the President or Prime Minister of Ireland is. He grabs it from me, scans it and hands it back. That's it!!!! No "How long will you be in Germany" or "What is your business here"? What the fuck! I was ready for my whole "I'm here to play baseball" story. Oh yeah. They don't really care about baseball here. I'm a second class athlete. Also, I forgot that having the Irish passport means I don't have to leave Germany. Can stay as long as I want! Sweet!

First things first. Just like in the Bourne Ultimatum, I need to get a prepaid "Handy" (mobile phone). No luck. Can't find anywhere that has them and I was scared they were going to speak to me in German. Change my dollars into Euros and was on my way to baggage.

Standing around waiting for my bags for 20 minutes. Hmmm. I guess that is why the Swiss invented the clocks. Figured they would be more on it here.

Here comes on bag. Wow, it's in one piece. Very happy. Where's the second one? Shit. No sign and another 15 minutes goes by. There is an Indian man standing next to me and I asked him if he was missing bags too. "They are quicker in Mumbia than this" said in and Indian accent.

A baggage agent came up to me and started speaking to me in German. Crap, what the hell is he saying. I managed to squeak out "Ich spreche English". He transitioned into English and told me to come with him to the lost baggage area. Son of a bitch!

Luckily, I was on my game when packing, so I put exactly half of each type of clothing in one bag, and half in the other just in case an instance like this might happen. My sister-in-law Amy would be very proud of me.

I get to the counter, and again, the German comes flying at me. I'm bobbing and weaving like I'm in the Matrix dodging bullets. "Ich spreche English". They start having me fill out a form. I guess I look German or something. Can't they tell I'm Irish!

Success! My bag shows up and I can finally go through the doors to my ride waiting for me on the other side. Hopefully he is still there because I am now an hour late!

I walk through the doors and meet a Vincent Van Goeh looking guy with a Stuttgart Reds had and jacket. Pointy chin, pointy nose, goatee. "Bret, I'm Ralf Buecheler" he said. "Good to finally meet you Ralf".

We make our way to his car. "Have you ever been on the Autobahn" he asked. "Nope" I responded. "It is very fast" he said excitedly.

I was a bit excited because all I could imagine was cruising to Stuttgart in a Porsche or Mercedes (Stuttgart is home to those companies after all). We get to his car and it's a Ford Focus. I was shocked. I thought it was forbidden to drive an American car in Germany. Guess not.

We get on the Autobahn and I can't tell how fast we are going, but doesn't seem like it is very fast. The speedometer is in Km/hr so at 120, I'm confused. I did see a few Porsche's and Ferrari's pass us like we were going backwards and thought that was very cool. Other than that, it was a non event.

Two hours later, we pull into Stuttgart. We are going to my new apartment. I'm so curious. Will I have my own toilette? How about a kitchen? We'll see!

Wilkommen Aus Deutchland!!!

March 25, 2009 - When we last left our caped crusader, he was fighting the temptations of yucky airport terminal food during his seven hour layover! Will he ever get back to a normal bowel movement? Only time will tell.

So this was my first experience with Air India. Are you all thinking what I'm thinking? Is it going to smell like curry? Am I going to get stuck sitting next to a farmer and his goat? Will it smell like curry? I must admit, I'm a pretty open minded guy, but I was a little skeptical about this flight. There was no telling what situation I got myself into. I quickly noticed that all the flight attendants were Indian. All the passengers were Indian. Aren't we going to Germany? I found out later that Germany was just a stop-over and Mumbai was the real stop. I guess they are adopting the Southwest flight model (just a little further apart). The next thought that entered my mind was a Slumdog Millionaire influenced one. India isn't exactly a rich country. Is this plane going to have propellers or what?

I got on board and to my surprise, beautiful seats with your own TV's and nice accommodations. Wow, what a surprise. The next thing I noticed were the female slight attendants. Yes, they had dots. Some red, some blue, some green. Not sure what they meant, but very colorful. They were also wearing traditional clothing that a woman from India would wear. How novel. To me it looked like they took their living room curtains and draped them over their shoulder, but they did look neat and clean. Just like that we were air born and I fell asleep instantly.

I was awoken by an attendant with a simple "Sir" (say it with an Indian accent). It was time for food. I was famished. I outsmarted everyone on board because I took the time to order the kosher meal. That is what I was always told to do if you want the good stuff. Finlay a real meal! I got my trey with real silverware, including a knife (Mr. Albuquerque security guard!!!) and I uncover the foil to find a rectangular egg colored thing with sausages next to it. Hmmmmm. Doesn't look kosher to me. Whatever Rabi blessed this must have been blind. I'll dig in and see. One bit and swallow and I knew where my next stop would be.

Five minutes was all it took! Luckily I had a commode five feet from me. Yep, just as I thought; an instant diuretic! Who needs Ex-Lax? My wife usually can't go for days when we travel. Next time, I'll order her some Air India cuisine! Bummer for the next guy.

Sure enough, someone was waiting patiently outside. Had to laugh a little once he closed the door.

Fell back asleep quickly and before I knew it, we were landing in Frankfurt. Thank god!