Beautiful Country, Terrible Weather

The countryside in Germany has been breathtaking for me. The roads that run around it do not line up with precision and order like we're used to in the states. A developer didn't take a mass of land, divide it up neatly, and build the most efficient transportation system around and through it. There is definitely a feeling of an old country here. This land was worked long before the cars and autobahns existed. And the streets seem to submit to the land's precedence.

This weekend, I traveled with the Youth team (high-school aged kids) to the mountains outside the city of Fulda--basically the middle of nowhere. It was truly a beautiful place. I included a picture which cannot nearly capture the beauty of the village of only a few buildings surrounded by massive farms and seated on mountain side facing more and more mountains as far as the fog would let you see.

The team practiced twice on Saturday and once Sunday in what looked more like a cow pasture than a football field. We stayed in a hostel which housed a few other groups (none nearly as rowdy as the 25 teenage boys we brought). In addition to the limitations with the field, we also had to deal with the weather. It has rained just about everyday here (reminds me of my Western Pennsylvania roots a little...) Except in the mountains, we dealt not just with rain but with just about every kind of precipitation--steady rain, a few flurries, and a 15 minute shower of hail--the kind that badly stings any flesh exposed. I wondered how much good work the team could get done in these circumstances.

Football plays weren't the most important part of the trip though. I learned we brought these boys here to become a team more than learn to play football. We opened up practice with full-contact soccer. Interesting sidenote, these German kids are crazy. They don't mind getting absolutely blasted by other players. The mud was soft enough to lighten their falls but the hits still hurt me sometimes to watch. These soccer games usually had a handful of devastating hits usually followed by laughter and helping the recipient off the ground.

In the hostel, the kids are like the American high school football players I know. They shave each other's for no good reason, they peacock for any female in sight, trying to flash their brightest feathers, and they are loud and generally obnoxious except for the few hours on the football field. During practice, I work with Conrad, the youth team's quarterback. He's a great kid--very coachable, a natural leader, and, thankfully, an English speaker. He's a pretty good player too, although most of his skills were dampened this weekend by the mud-caked balls and swampy field.

After the last practice, the kids played in the mudpit that developed throughout the weekend in an especially soft spot. Here's the boys posing afterwards. And here's another reason why these German kids are crazy. You can't see me, but rest assured I have my hood over my head, jacked zipped, gloves on, etc. It was freezing. And these boys took off their shirts so they could slide better in the mud. It made me wish I was 15 again.

God bless.

A Shared Journey

When I decided to come to Germany for six months, I knew I would have a life altering experience. I would leave with a bigger understanding of the world and a better perspective of my own culture. I didn't (and still don't) know exactly the ways I would grow, but was certain that profound personal growth would occur. What I didn't know was who I would share this experience with. Who would accompany me on my journey, my heroic quest? No other Americans are on the team. In fact, I've yet to meet anyone from the states.

In these first 10 days, I've started to answer this question. You see football teams have a funny way of welcoming and embracing their members. It uses practice stations, conditioning sessions, team showers, and the McDonalds dollar menu after practice to build connections that pour quickly and set firmly (thankfully, these connections go deeper than something a language barrier might tear apart).

The roster of the Darmstadt Diamonds contains 19 year-old kids fresh from the youth program and high school studies and also men in the 30's with families and established careers. Despite coming from a wide variety of life stages, the team seems close--close enough that the middle-aged guys won't leave the game when their bodies are begging them to and the young guys find their best friends among the short roster. These men will share in my journey. Actually, it's more like I'm joining their story for a season rather than them contributing to mine.

Last weekend, I had my first traditional German meal in my town's small Bier Garten (no translation necessary I hope) with three of my 30+ teammates. We talked football, American politics, and German history over generous portions of schnitzel and potatoes. A group of 12 or so met up later that week at the apartment of one of the college students on the team. We had a 3 hour barbeque where I consumed more meat than I had ever dreamed I would. We sat outside and told stories for hours. Even though they spoke almost exclusively in German, story-telling can sometimes transcend the language in which it's told. At least, I think I know what most of them were about...

This weekend, a pair of defensive backs, the Kozak brothers (picture above), took me to a youth/young adult service at a church in Darmstadt on Friday night--a very interesting experience seeing the an evangelical service in this country. It was a welcoming, warm environment. The next morning, Nico and Phillip (other picture), another set of brothers on the team, took me to an old castle only a few miles from my home. Its name is Frankenstein but I haven't found out if it's connected with Mary Shelley's famous work. I've also included a picture of me with a catapult at the castle--very cool.

I'm blessed to have teammates so willing to walk me through life here. They are eager to share their worlds with me, and I thank God for them.

God bless!

First practice

This is my third day in Griesheim, Germany, a small town a few miles west of Darmstadt. My host family, the Gade's, live in a tidy four-story home connected to a string of homes on either side. My teammate, Nico, lives on the same floor as me. Andrea and Matthius live above us in the master bedroom. Thankfully, the family speaks wonderful English and go out of their way to include me in conversation.

I arrived here around noon on Tuesday and found out immediately, that we had practice that evening. After unpacking and taking a quick nap, I drove to the practice field with three other teammates.

We arrived at the field around 7:40 for an 8:00 practice. It was already dark and the Junior team was finishing up. One of the guys pointed to an abandoned set of shoulder pads and helmet for me sitting in the middle of the small locker room. The helmet doesn't really fit, but the shoulder pads and red jersey feel familiar.

When I got to the field, the head coach handed me the install sheet for that day. It diagramed the four passing plays that we were putting in that night. I thanked him and without instruction, he took off towards the defense. The receivers, running backs and a handful of lineman loosely gathered around me and looked to me like they expected me to start practice. "Ummm, alright" I said, "I guess let's run through them?" So I pretended like I knew what I was doing and started calling plays, lining people up, and barking signals at the line. Before long, we had a nice rhythm working through the four plays with the first and second offenses.

As you can see, the program is a bit unorganized, but the team seems full of great guys. I have no doubt that great friendships will result because of this trip. Besides the jetlag I was fighting all evening, the rest of practice went well.

After practice, the team manager gave me a cell phone, television, and keys to the car I'll use while I'm here. It's the smallest car I've ever seen in my life. I love it. I've posted a picture of it.

Days will be slow before I start my job next week. I'll wash cars for a local dealership. If they're all as small as mine, it should be easy work.

Take care and God bless!

Ryan

A week to go...

On Monday, I will board a flight from Charlotte, NC to Frankfurt, Germany. For six months, I will live play football for team in Darmstadt, a small city south of Frankfurt. This blog is my attempt to chronicle my journey for my friends and family. Besides playing football, my hope is to learn a new language and culture, travel throughout Europe, and most importantly, grow deeply in my personal and spiritual life.

Thank you for being a part of my adventure. I hope to see you on the other end of the trip to tell you this story.