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.