Hodge Podge

First, I'm home...finally. I landed in Cologne last night at 10:00 and drove a little over three hours to Den Hague where I have a room that I am provided during the summer. I packed and drifted to sleep while watching the first few innings of the Twins vs. Royals on mlbtv.

It's funny how I start to feel more and more comfortable as I get nearer to home. I found myself extremely releived to here Norwegians speaking in the Amsterdam airport.

In honor of being home and thankful here are a few rambling thoughts on some of my favorite things from various places I have been.

Oslo:
1. It's home, so I'm biased. But its just so damn nice here.
2. A sunny day in Norway is rarely underappreciated. If the sun is out, even if it is cold and there is snow on the ground, Norwegians soak it up. On any given day as I walk through the park I will see people sitting on the snow covered park benches with their faces pushed to the sky, eyes closed as if they are sniffing a boquet of roses. There they sit lapping up the rays.
3. Recycling. Oslo is not known for their recycling but the Norwegians government seems to make a great effort to promote recycling. Today on the way home I noticed ads in the tram wagons with cool slogans that explain how your cereal box could be yesterdays newspaper...so recycle. The ads are not uncommon.

Italy:
The food. I'm not sure the food is so great, but just being in Italy makes you think it is. There is something about the way they treat a meal. It makes me want to smack my lips as I eat in a manner that would be crude at my mothers dinner table but seems to convey a love of flavor in Italy. oh, the wine ain't bad either.

USA:
My former home of which I have a natural love for. But, chipotle burritos, mountain dew, and starbucks!


Just a few rambling thoughts for you. I'm pretty cashed out mentally right now and will call it a night. It's been a long 15 days.

A Good Story....In Two Parts

Part 1:
In 2003 I spent my first season in the German Bundesliga as a player for the Cologne Cardinals. My contract paid me a room in an apartment with two other clowns a small car, and a pocket full of Euros. The cash portion of the contract was split between two clubs, Cologne and something called Zulpich. Zulpich was a 3rd division team in a small town about 20 minutes outside of Cologne. Very much like Kingston, Minnesota for all of you Northern natives. My job was manager of this club. So every Tuesday I would venture out for practice in Zulpich while Saturday was game day. All the other days I played for Cologne.

While at an away game with Zulpich in some dinky Germanic town about 3 hours north of Cologne I was filling out the lineup card when one of my players rushed into the dugout. Achim Gorsch was his name. Achim, from what I gathered was married, father of some kids, and an amateur trumpet player. "Running a little late Achim" I said..."Yeah, I was at my daughters birthday party so I stuck around home then flew up here." he replied. Achim was a hell of a nice guy and not too mention as long as they were there before the first pitch i didn't care too much...it was the German 3rd division after all. "Yeah, the autobahn is great eh?" I asked rhetorically. Achim said, "No, I really flew. I'm a pilot filling in my training hours so I can fly during the day." He went on to add that he had purchased a mall 4 seat plane with some friends, like buying a car, and uses it to train for his license. Immeidiately the game became second in my mind.

After the game I flew home with Achim and two other teammates. One of which was the guy who sits in the back of fighter jets. I got the front seat though...I guess it pays to be coach.

When we approached the small airstrip we discovered it was closed. Apparently regulations prohibited landing after a certain hour to keep noise down in residential area. So we diverted to Cologne/Bonn International. I had the headphones and everything, it was rad! (who still says rad?). We landed behind a passenger jet, which I might add is much more intimidating from behind in the air than when sitting in it.

Part 2:
So I'm strolling out of Cologne/Bonn airport this afternoon after a flight from Prague. I used Cologne as a base because it operates two of Europe's cheapest airlines. I used germanwings from Prague with a connection on HLX 5 hours later to Pisa. During the layover I went into Cologne and had a kid workout for me.

So...I'm strolling through the airport and I hear, "Andy Johnson" as if I were walking down Sibley Avenue in Litchield. I look up and see this guy setting down his espresso at the coffee bar, and its Achim Gorsch!. Decked to the nines in his pilot get up sipping an espresso like some actor in an old film.

We get to chatting and I discover that Achim is the copilot on my plane that night to Pisa.

So upon boarding I meet the pilot and chat it up in the cockpit a bit. During the flight Achim gives me a special greeting over the PA during the in flight info session. Upon landing the captain nonchalantly says over the address system, "Andy, over to your left is the old ballpark in Pisa"(as you fly into Pisa on your left is the ballpark at the Olympic Training center). All the Germans on board didn't quite understand what he said so I just sat and giggled to myself in my seat like an 8 year old who got some special attention.

Now, Achim is a bit older than me and I didn't even bother to ask if he was still playing baseball, but I was one proud coach to learn that one of my boys had accomplished what he had set out to do.

Bavaria!!!!

The workout finished up last night at about 9:30 in Amsterdam. We had over 100 kids show up and it was around 40 degrees with a blusterz wind blowing out to right field. It was a tzpical trzout like zou would see in the U.S.

Following the workout I got in mz car and hi-tailed it to Cologne, Germanz where I spent the night at the home of a former teammate/plazer of mine. Zou maz wonder whz I have all the z's in mz writing. The German kezboard puts the z where the y should be. In honor of this I have decided to leave it as is rather than adjust mz tzping skills.

In the morning we hooked up with mz former GM in Cologne and had breakfast and coffee. It was nice to catch up with the guzs and it was nice to be reminded of past spring dazs in a beautiful citz. Cologne is easilz in mz top ten cities.

I left Cologne via train at 1p.m. At the 4 hour mark I fell asleep and awok right at the Regensburg train station in Bavaria, mz final stop. I jolted out of mz seat, grabbed mz bag and spinted for the door. Screaming 'excuse me' in German I made it to the door onlz to be met bz the train attendant leaning with his ass sticking in the door of the train like a basketball plazer blocking out on a shot. 'excuse me' I said loudlz. He turned with his arms blocking the door and begain zelling at me in German. I just stood there in amayement (see the Y instead of the z). I got the picture which was that it was too late and he wasn't supposed to let me off. However, in tzpical fashion he didn't console or make an effort to rectifz the situation, instead he zelled at me as though I should be ashamed for making him feel bad because he had to obez the rules.

So I rode another half hour to the next stop, then another hour back to regensburg.

Regensburg is gorgeous. It reminds me of a movie set with all the narrow streets and picturesque architechture. Even when zou walk the sound of foot steps echoes in the streets like it is on a stage in a small theatre.

I had dinner alone in the shadow of the cathedral in the citz center. Great salmon, not to mention lots of omega 3 in it, good for the heart. Sitting next to me were two gentlemen enjozing a beer. Behind them was an older women who was dressed well and convezed a certain level of elegance. I have no idea what the two men were talking about but the women was having an awful time keeping a straight face. Normallz I wouldn't have found this so amusing but given her dress and demeanor I wouldn't have expected someone who convezed so much class to giggle so at the behest of a couple of working class stiffs who were simplz blowing off steam. I wish I knew what thez said because at one point the woman almost had coffee coming out of her nose.

Off to bed now. Another workout tomorrow followed bz a 3 hour trip to prague. I'm meeting mz girl in Prague which I am looking forward to big time. Being around her alwazs makes life feel normal.

The First Trip

Scouting is a great job. I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. Scouts are assigned a territory. In the U.S. that usually means something like 'southwest' or 'midwest' which encompasses a general area like southern California to Phoenix or the Dakota's, Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin and part of Illinois. My territory is Europe. This encompasses a lot from Stockholm to Moscow to Italy and up to the Netherlands...and everything in between. When people hear I scout Europe they usually think it's pretty cool, which it is. But it's not like I get to tool around Europe's greatest cities seeing the sights and sampling the food. Instead I spend a lot of time arranging travel and looking for ballparks in obscure cities.

Right now I'm on my first trip of the season. MLB hosts an academy every year for the top 50 players in Europe and Africa. Right now they are hosting the tryouts to determine who will make the final 50. My job is to follow the tryouts throughout Euroope. While I won't cover all the tryouts here is what my schedule looks like:
Day 1: Skovde, Sweden: Following the tryout I take a train to Gothenburg for a 8pm flight to amsterdam. Eventually ending the night in my rented room in Den Hague at 11pm.
Day 2: No tryouts for me today. Instead I prepare my room for the upcoming season, pick up my rental car, and visit a local practice to see a few important contacts for me here in Holland. During the season I spend most of my time in Holland. I rent a car from a guy I met in my visits here and base myself out of Den Hague.
Day 3: Tryout in Amsterdam in the evening. Following the tryout I drive 3 hours to Cologne, Germany arriving after midnight.
Day 4: Leave the car in Cologne with a friend and take a train to Regensburg,Germany in Bavaria.
Note: You may ask why I rent a car and leave it for a train. When planning my trip I had to find a cheap flight into italy on the 24th. Because I will be in Prague the flights were to expensive on most airlines. The cheapest option is to go through Cologne on a discount airline. Returning to Cologne is the cheapest location within driving distance to Amsterdam where my flight home leaves from.
Day 5: Tryout in Regensburg,Germany. Following the tryout I will hitch a ride from a friend to Prague.
Day 6: Off day in prague!
Day 7: Tryout in prague.
Day 8: Flights from Prague to Cologne to Pisa.
Day 9: Tryout in Pisa followed by a return flight to Cologne arriving at 10pm. Upon landing I drive to Den Hague.
Day 10: Flight returning to Oslo and my cosy bed and family!

This is my life! Along the way I will see over 300 players and spend more than 30 hours in transit eating out of grocery stores to save costs and sleeping in 4 different hotels and 2 different couches.

It doesn't get much better!

Tip of the Cap

The last thing I do as I leave the house for practice each day is reach on top of the wardrobe next to our door and choose a cap to wear. As a kid I was an avid collector of caps. I would browse through old baseball books and look for unique logos and designs or trade with players from opposing teams. My collection was quite extensive and most of those lids still reside in a container in my fathers basement. My collection is much smaller these days as I don't wear a hat as often for fear of losing my hair and with limited space it gets difficult to find a proper place to put them.

I think what I like about my caps is that they all have a nice little story or memory behind them. I have a Cuban National team cap staring at me at the moment. While scouting the Baseball World Cup last summer in Rotterdam I was approached by a member of the Cuban entourage. He said something in Spanish conveying his interest in trading me his Cuban cap for my newly purchased Dutch National Team cap. I told him I wasn't interested so he did what any normal bargain hunter does, he grabbed my cap off my head and put replaced it with his. I just laughed and considered it a done deal. Now I have a beat up cap that bares the sweat stains of some Cuban.

Resting next to it is my Gopher Hockey hat which is reminiscent of my youth and home grown loyalty to the maroon and gold. Next to that is my old amateur baseball cap from my days playing in Litchfield for the Blues, my surrogate baseball family.

Yesterday as I left the house I reached for my German National Team cap. It is black with an orange D on the front. It was gift I recieved from my former teammates in Cologne Germany following the 2003 season. I had been hounding a few of our players who were on the national team for a cap for two seasons and I finally got one before moving on in my life. As I picked up the cap I looked under the lid and there written in fading blue ink it read "Doc". I didn't realize until that moment but the cap had belonged to our catcher Andre Hille.

Tragically Andre passed away in 2004 during a game in Cologne. I played beside him and served as his coach for two seasons. He was large kid and pretty good looking for a catcher. He spoke with a real soft voice for such a large person and had an infectious smile. He was notorious for forgetting to bring with his catchers equipment to practice. He always claimed it was because he couldn't carry it on his bike, I think he just wanted an excuse to not have to do blocking drills.

So I've got a new memory in an old cap...But like the Cuban I would trade that cap in a second if it meant I could hear Andre laugh one more time.

And We're Off!

Just as the MLB season kicked off earlier this week so to did Norwegian baseball take a step closer to what is usually a very brief summer. Last night (April 7th) a collection of three teams from the Oslo area traveled an hour or so south to Fredrikstad to play a late night indoor tournament. Fredrikstad has a full size football (soccer) field indoors with a fairly high ceiling. It provides enough space to play an indoor game with relatively few impediments that come with playing in a small space.

The creativity necessary to play in such a place is quite remarkable. The mound is a makeshift structure built out of pallets and plywood covered by an old carpet. Our backstop is a series of three soccer goals with tarps hung over them and the outfield fence is a loose hanging elongated tennis net. Setting up the field takes about an hour and taking it down adds an additional 30 minutes. We begin play at 9pm. and finish at three in the morning as the prices are considerably cheaper at later hours.

It's a promising event I hope to expand next season by establishing sponsors and creating a more competetive environment. It is important for the development of baseball here that we have indoor facilities to combat the often late arriving spring. Kind of our own little Metrodome!

The season opens in Norway in a little less than a month, barring anymore snow and assuming the temperature and rain continues. The National Team kicks off its season at the end of May with the Nordic Championships in Karlskoga, Sweden.

A Call to Arms

As I mentioned earlier a good portion of my time is spent working with Norwegian baseball. Technically my job is to serve as the manager of the National Team but all of the duties inherent with any baseball program go along with it.

Currently we are making strides to give baseball a big marketing push. Our situation is rather bleak at the moment with already low participation numbers seemingly dwindling by the day and with little emphasis having been placed on youth recruitment in recent seasons.

So I call to all of you to help us out. If you have any good marketing slogans you might want to run by me I'm all ears. For all of you smart asses you need not...well, what the heck, I'll take anything.

We're looking to target primarily kids but are open to anyone taking an interest in the game. I would prefer to avoid heavily associating the game with American culture because of the tendency for people to strive to identify themselves based on their own culture. What some call a inferiority complex might be better described as desire to define one's self by their own cultural characteristics. Therefore I would like to find a way to bolster Norwegian ownership in the game.

So hit me back, I'm looking forward to your ideas.

Touching Base With Home

I opened an email from my mom this morning in which she was curious about an article she had heard about in the West Central Tribune out of Willmar, Minnesota. Apparently the local sports writer T.J. Bartlett had jotted a few lines about me in response to my blog. I have known T.J. a little while as he wrote an article about my international playing experiences a few years ago.

It's a little strange to here second hand about things which are written about you in the media. It's flattering, but weird.

In the brief article T.J. refers to me as a Ex-Litchfield Star....well, obviousley T.J. never saw me play. I was more like an abandoned space station than a star. In either case it's nice to know people at home are keeping tabs on me. It helps me feel a little less disconnected.