Three Days.

Friday night was a nightmare. End of story. I think I have 5 readers, 2 of you have heard about the nightmare that was the Surf WorldCup firsthand and I don't have the energy to go through it again. If your name is Terra or Amber, you should ask Jamie or Mom to tell you all about it. It involves a lot of wind, cold, idiots, VW vans and a train ride back to Graz. I've posted pictures. Things weren't so bad during the day and the VW vans were interesting. Even the name of the event turned out to be completely misleading. “Surf WorldCup” brings to mind THE championship, the end-all of world surfing for either the end of the 2004 or 2005 surfing “season.” In reality, "surfing" in this case means "windsurfing, "World" means "Europe," and "Cup" simply means "meaningless tournament.” Thanks again Austria. This makes occasion number 7,413 in which the truth has been cleverly kept hidden.

Saturday I took the train back. Not too bad, I like travelling by train. I saw a cute red-haired family speaking German with an Irish accent and shared a train compartment with an otherwise normal seeming man wearing black leather pants. Since it was Saturday after 5, the grocery stores were closed. Businesses in or near the train station are allowed to stay open later and even on Sundays! so I went to the Spar and picked up some necessities, including: Kit-Kat bars, milk, blueberry dessert roulade, a 25ml Coke, tomato paste, bread and pasta kits. I decided I couldn't wait to get home to have any of those things so I went to the McDonalds in the train station and rewarded myself with a Hamburger Royal Menü with fries and a strawberry shake. When I am in America, I almost never eat McDonalds. Here, I eat McDonalds with pride, knowing my money and the Austrian money is going to a giant, globalopolizing American company that specializes in hamburgers, french fries and milkshakes. You could say I'm bitter. You'd be right, if you said so. After that I went to the apartment, showered, ate some blueberry roulade and milk and watched Armin Assinger and “Die Millionen Show.” I was asleep by nine.

Sunday was a pretty good day. I slept late, woke up and had breakfast and watched a baseball game. That's right, a baseball game. Graz has a baseball team, the Graz Dirty Sox. Ha. Ha. At least they have a sense of humor because it sure is funny to watch them play. I wasn’t planning on going to the game, I wasn’t sure there was a game yesterday, but I hopped on the bus and got lucky. Christian, the coach of the baseball course at the university, is the catcher/pitcher/assistant coach of the Dirty Sox. He has pretty much single-handedly spread the word about baseball in Styria over the last ten years or so. The field they practice and have games at is impressive for where it is and for the little amount of interest it draws. I've been meaning to take pictures, and yesterday would have been a good day for it, but like I said, I wasn't planning on going to the game so I didn't bring my camera. There is a set of bleachers, about 30 seats in all, maybe less, two dugouts made of old barnwood, a rusty scoreboard and a concession stand/storage room built out of half of an old train car. During the game, I worked the ancient scoreboard, which, believe it or not, with all the rusty metal and walks, was a lot of work. The concession stand, which serves beer and hot dogs, is run by Christian's girlfriend Romana, the cheerleader/nurse/sympathizer for whom the team is very thankful. That is exactly the type of multi-tasking that has made baseball in Austria possible. As far as I know, Christian doesn't have a "real" job. He coaches the university baseball course, travels around to elementary schools and teaches baseball to kids, works the website and tries to find equipment and sponsors to keep everything running. Romana is a real live nurse here in Graz. They have been together seven years and she didn't see a baseball game until the second year they were together, only then after being encouraged by one of the wives of the other players. Having talked to her only for an hour or so, it's hard to tell whether she has a genuine interest in all of what goes on or if she does what she does because she knows it's important to Christian. Something gave me the impression that she wished it were someone else's responsibility to keep the whole thing going or maybe she feels like it isn't worth the trouble sometimes. They are both admirable people and their relationship is impressive. I’ve been lucky to have met people like them and like the Jarvis family who teach me things when I'm not expecting to learn and who prove that it is possible to carve out a place in the world when it's nearly been carved away by everything else.

Last week Christian ordered some new gear, some new gloves and bats. It’s hard to find quality baseball equipment in Europe, and most of what they find is expensive. I told him I would pay for one of the gloves, use it while I am here, and then give it to them when I return home. The coach of the Dirty Sox, Jeremy, said it is hard to get all of the players to come to practice, so they usually end of practicing with only 5 or 6 players. I told Jeremy that I would come to the practices if he thought it would help and he said that would be great. Starting tomorrow I'm going to go to practice and help out with whatever I can and I'll probably help get the field and concession stand ready before the game. Since this is pretty much the only cool thing going on in Austria, I’m going to help out however I can. The main thing is, Romana and Christian are really great people and it’s too bad they have to do so much on their own. Their dog Bruno is really cute too. If you want to help out, fill out this form and send it to Christian.