At the start of January, Elysabeth and I spent our time coping. We lost our little Molly. Still, to this day we giggle and remember her quirky little self. But this month, instead of my usual clip to clip video of Seoul, I decided to make a little tribute to the tiny pup.
Oh yeah, this is also my video for the month of January. ;-)
...get Lost my friends.
Showing posts with label Seoul. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seoul. Show all posts
1.31.2012
1.28.2012
Wizard Shoes
I've been at my kindergarten for a long while now and at times I have been put into decision making positions. With that came the responsibility to hire people.
This experience was fascinating.
Applicants were aloof. Resume's were hilarious. And people simply blew it. But the other day I chuckled when I thought about one interview in particular.
Let's call him the British Taekwondo Master. He had long, pony tailed, blonde hair. A very nicely cut, grey three-piece suit and Benjamin Franklin style bi-focals. His face looked kind and his 6-foot frame stood lean and athletic.
He came to Seoul to pursue his dream of winning international Taekwondo competitions and in the interview intricately weaved me through how the Taekwondo masters in London established him as the next best thing. At which I replied with no words but a short glance at the colorful bookshelves with children's books, thinking, "Did you know you are interviewing to teach 4-year-old's how to say 'hello'?"
The interview felt like a vortex of odd. He talked. We didn't. He kept moving his hands in wavy yet circular motions as he spoke. My hands stopped taking notes. His eyes were serious. Mine were understanding, yet very confused. Simply, odd.
The interview ended when he said, "To be honest, and please understand me Mark, I feel like the Taekwondo spirit brought me to Korea, and even to the this office, to speak to you, Mark."
Hmmmm.
As he left, he bowed very sincerely. Then put on a not-so-subtle pair of pointy suede shoes because in Korea you leave shoes at the door and wear slippers inside.
The vice principal, looking perplexed, then quickly asked, "Why does he wear the shoes of a wizard?"
To which I replied, "Good question..."
...get Lost my friends.
This experience was fascinating.
Applicants were aloof. Resume's were hilarious. And people simply blew it. But the other day I chuckled when I thought about one interview in particular.
Let's call him the British Taekwondo Master. He had long, pony tailed, blonde hair. A very nicely cut, grey three-piece suit and Benjamin Franklin style bi-focals. His face looked kind and his 6-foot frame stood lean and athletic.
He came to Seoul to pursue his dream of winning international Taekwondo competitions and in the interview intricately weaved me through how the Taekwondo masters in London established him as the next best thing. At which I replied with no words but a short glance at the colorful bookshelves with children's books, thinking, "Did you know you are interviewing to teach 4-year-old's how to say 'hello'?"
The interview felt like a vortex of odd. He talked. We didn't. He kept moving his hands in wavy yet circular motions as he spoke. My hands stopped taking notes. His eyes were serious. Mine were understanding, yet very confused. Simply, odd.
The interview ended when he said, "To be honest, and please understand me Mark, I feel like the Taekwondo spirit brought me to Korea, and even to the this office, to speak to you, Mark."
Hmmmm.
As he left, he bowed very sincerely. Then put on a not-so-subtle pair of pointy suede shoes because in Korea you leave shoes at the door and wear slippers inside.
The vice principal, looking perplexed, then quickly asked, "Why does he wear the shoes of a wizard?"
To which I replied, "Good question..."
...get Lost my friends.
1.23.2012
Subway Observations
These days I ride the subway a lot. I recently started a job coaching
soccer in English and the school's location caused a big jump in my
commuting. So, three times a week, I spend close to 2 hours riding
subways, buses and walking. It's nice, kinda. I read more, reflect more,
but more than anything, I unintentionally observe my Korean compadres.
This brings us to today's post, Subway Observations.
***
In the midst of a brutally compact subway car sat an old lady. Small in stature, frail and sleepy. She looked like any other old woman on the subway but for some reason, I stood peering in her direction.
She sat with closed eyes and hands crossed. Again, nothing unusual but as the announcement rang over the loud speaker, "Next stop, Dongjak station," she casually opened her eyes and wiggled into a position to get up. But, she quickly realized the solid wall of people right in front of her and between the seat and the door.
"Uh, oh," I thought. "She'll never make it."
I stood corrected. She very gently grabbed hold of a young Korean girl's arms who stood directly in front of her. And in that moment, a very beautiful transaction of affection occurred. The old lady lifted herself up and with only a nod or two they successfully shuffled and switched positions. The old lady then scooted her way through the thick kelp-like crowd to the door. She made it, like so many times before in life.
In these moments a very distinct stirring of appreciation happens inside of me. I really appreciate the innate kindness Koreans show toward one another. Sure, this is not 100% the case, but it's definitely not rare. It's common to see, and I truly love seeing it.
It keeps a person kind, even in the midst of terrible subway rides. Beautiful.
...get Lost my friends.
This brings us to today's post, Subway Observations.
***
In the midst of a brutally compact subway car sat an old lady. Small in stature, frail and sleepy. She looked like any other old woman on the subway but for some reason, I stood peering in her direction.
She sat with closed eyes and hands crossed. Again, nothing unusual but as the announcement rang over the loud speaker, "Next stop, Dongjak station," she casually opened her eyes and wiggled into a position to get up. But, she quickly realized the solid wall of people right in front of her and between the seat and the door.
"Uh, oh," I thought. "She'll never make it."
I stood corrected. She very gently grabbed hold of a young Korean girl's arms who stood directly in front of her. And in that moment, a very beautiful transaction of affection occurred. The old lady lifted herself up and with only a nod or two they successfully shuffled and switched positions. The old lady then scooted her way through the thick kelp-like crowd to the door. She made it, like so many times before in life.
In these moments a very distinct stirring of appreciation happens inside of me. I really appreciate the innate kindness Koreans show toward one another. Sure, this is not 100% the case, but it's definitely not rare. It's common to see, and I truly love seeing it.
It keeps a person kind, even in the midst of terrible subway rides. Beautiful.
...get Lost my friends.
1.10.2011
Snow Life
This is my first lengthy experience with winter. Actual winter. I'm from a part of Southern California where the winter equates to people driving 25 mph slower when it drizzles and the temperature never, I mean never, get below 40 degrees.
For those of you that were unaware, Korea has an actual winter. We are talking 6 degree temps, snow, layering, your face getting as white as the section of your body below your waste but just above your mid-thigh, snow, a numb face, snow, staying indoors even when the sun is out and even more, snow. All of these things remain pretty foreign to me.
Yet, in this new experience, there are a few things that stick out the most.
1.) I have never been afraid of anything that does not move, until now. Black ice; you are an ominous little creation.
2.) I need to allow an extra 3 minutes for getting ready in the morning because I now wear a big coat, beanie, scarf, gloves and sometimes dual socks. If I don't I am wildly cold on my way to work. The only problem with this is my work commute is literally a 2-minute bike ride and my co-workers look at me weird because I am bundled-up like I just got off the set of "Fargo".
3.) Snow falling between buildings and nestling onto city streets still stands as one of the most beautiful sights I know.
4.) Don't go to tropical climates (Thailand) for your winter vacation when snow and ice await your return. Total bummer. I completely blew it on that one.
...
It's actually not that bad, which is reassuring. I feel like living in any major city in the U.S. is doable now because I know I can handle some intense winter weather.
Then again, I have a feeling that the black ice has yet to strike it's devilish ways upon me.
...Get Lost my friends.
For those of you that were unaware, Korea has an actual winter. We are talking 6 degree temps, snow, layering, your face getting as white as the section of your body below your waste but just above your mid-thigh, snow, a numb face, snow, staying indoors even when the sun is out and even more, snow. All of these things remain pretty foreign to me.
Yet, in this new experience, there are a few things that stick out the most.
1.) I have never been afraid of anything that does not move, until now. Black ice; you are an ominous little creation.
2.) I need to allow an extra 3 minutes for getting ready in the morning because I now wear a big coat, beanie, scarf, gloves and sometimes dual socks. If I don't I am wildly cold on my way to work. The only problem with this is my work commute is literally a 2-minute bike ride and my co-workers look at me weird because I am bundled-up like I just got off the set of "Fargo".
3.) Snow falling between buildings and nestling onto city streets still stands as one of the most beautiful sights I know.
4.) Don't go to tropical climates (Thailand) for your winter vacation when snow and ice await your return. Total bummer. I completely blew it on that one.
...
It's actually not that bad, which is reassuring. I feel like living in any major city in the U.S. is doable now because I know I can handle some intense winter weather.
Then again, I have a feeling that the black ice has yet to strike it's devilish ways upon me.
...Get Lost my friends.
12.13.2010
NPR Bound
My lady, otherwise known as the lovely Elysabeth Hahm, has landed the gig of all gigs.
She does not start work until 5 p.m. and gets out at 8 p.m. everyday. Not only that, she can comfortably survive out here with the amount they are paying her. What does she do? Radio. She does radio and does it big.
It's funny, when you listen to talk radio you always picture some face behind the voice. It may even be a vague image but you always do. Minutes before Liz hit the waves for the first time my curiosity sparked because I wondered what people would think she looked like when they heard her voice. I was sourly surprised...She sounded too good to be true.
She spoke with a subtle smoothness enhanced with sophisticated sag-ways. She sounded like a veteran capable of always putting a fresh perspective on things. But she also sounded, for a lack of better words, super attractive. I immediately thought, "I'm screwed." I had joked the week leading up to her debut that she was the next big thing in Seoul. I did not realize that she would be the next 'hot' chick in Seoul. I got really nervous when this thought surfaced but quickly dismissed that silly notion when the reality of the situation rapidly came into perspective.
In that moment her voice rang though ears and speakers throughout Korea. This was the biggest English speaking radio station in Seoul and her 30-minute segment played at 7:30 p.m., prime-time.
My emotions quickly turned toward genuine pride. Of all the things she has done in her life this is by far the biggest challenge and with the most at stake. If she failed, she would be jobless. If she succeeded, coming to Korea instantaneously became a hugely profitable decision.
So she did what she does best; smiled, giggled and rode the wave through, grounded head at the ready. And she sounded absolutely incredible.
She has just entered her fourth week on the job and has officially staked her place behind a mic. It's quite impressive to say the least. Prior to this she only had experience in print media and had never really done any type of public speaking. You would not know it when she comes on air.
The station (http://www.tbs.seoul.kr/ENG/) enjoys her tremendously and the show is picking up momentum. I must also mention that I have been a guest caller three times since the start of the show and I, eh-hem, attribute most of the shows success directly to my calls.
With that being said, it's good being Liz right now. Did I mention she doesn't have to use an alarm clock!?!?
Get Lost my friends.....
She does not start work until 5 p.m. and gets out at 8 p.m. everyday. Not only that, she can comfortably survive out here with the amount they are paying her. What does she do? Radio. She does radio and does it big.
It's funny, when you listen to talk radio you always picture some face behind the voice. It may even be a vague image but you always do. Minutes before Liz hit the waves for the first time my curiosity sparked because I wondered what people would think she looked like when they heard her voice. I was sourly surprised...She sounded too good to be true.
She spoke with a subtle smoothness enhanced with sophisticated sag-ways. She sounded like a veteran capable of always putting a fresh perspective on things. But she also sounded, for a lack of better words, super attractive. I immediately thought, "I'm screwed." I had joked the week leading up to her debut that she was the next big thing in Seoul. I did not realize that she would be the next 'hot' chick in Seoul. I got really nervous when this thought surfaced but quickly dismissed that silly notion when the reality of the situation rapidly came into perspective.
In that moment her voice rang though ears and speakers throughout Korea. This was the biggest English speaking radio station in Seoul and her 30-minute segment played at 7:30 p.m., prime-time.
My emotions quickly turned toward genuine pride. Of all the things she has done in her life this is by far the biggest challenge and with the most at stake. If she failed, she would be jobless. If she succeeded, coming to Korea instantaneously became a hugely profitable decision.
So she did what she does best; smiled, giggled and rode the wave through, grounded head at the ready. And she sounded absolutely incredible.
She has just entered her fourth week on the job and has officially staked her place behind a mic. It's quite impressive to say the least. Prior to this she only had experience in print media and had never really done any type of public speaking. You would not know it when she comes on air.
The station (http://www.tbs.seoul.kr/ENG/) enjoys her tremendously and the show is picking up momentum. I must also mention that I have been a guest caller three times since the start of the show and I, eh-hem, attribute most of the shows success directly to my calls.
With that being said, it's good being Liz right now. Did I mention she doesn't have to use an alarm clock!?!?
Get Lost my friends.....
12.09.2010
The Best Concert I Will Ever Go To In My Whole Life For As Long As I Live, Ever.
Last Saturday I went to a concert with Liz, my buddy Dave and whole lot of apprehension. It was free because Liz's work put it on and none of us really thought it was going to be anything more than maybe a banquet style setup with some food and a jazz band or DJ.
Well, it was much more than that my friends. It was a production of excitement blended with moments of fear wrapped in a whirlwind of "what could possibly be next?" questions that fiddled with my emotions so much I ended up enjoying it more than anything else I have done in Korea.
Yeah. I know.
Here goes...
{The First Band was a reggae band. He told us to, "shake ya' booties and feel dah vibreations," in a slightly Jamaican yet almost American slash pirate accent. If you attempt the accent exactly how I described, you most likely nailed it.}
{This is ToucH, a Korean Pop band. A group of seven dudes, 4 of which could pass as very attractive girls, all dressed in tight denim and some array of brown leather coat with fake white fur frills and if you look closely you can see the lead singer in the middle with wings sewed into the side of his pants. I'm not making this up.}
{The calm before the insanely badly choreographed storm.}
{Then boom, wing pants takes flight!...It was really bad. But so bad in fact, I loved every moment of it.}
{Now this was interesting. It was a choir group that consisted of 13 different ambassadors wives. They did a medley of 18 traditional folk songs and arguably the most confusing part of the night happened when the wives from Papa New Guinea and the Phillipines did a traditional dance other wise known as 'The Electric Slide'.}
{This was by far the best 20-minutes of my weekend. A Korean band that covered Queen. The lead singer rocked a mustache, the guitarist wore a wig and aviator sunglasses and they conjured the essence of Queen magically. No joke, this Korean dude hit every single note and sounded exactly like Freddy Mercury. At the end of the first song I gave a standing ovation with a wildly too loud yelp in appreciation but when I looked back at the hundreds of Koreans giving me that, "come on, don't be so American dude," look, I quickly sat back down...These guys have been a band for 13 years. Which means this guy has rocked that stache for 13 years which, looking back, is what most likely prompted my adoration for them.}
There was about 10 acts all together that ranged from the K Pop scene to embarrassing Korean rappers to young girls playing traditional instruments to a very talented American rapper and finally finishing with a fantastic Jazz quartet that ended up accompanying some K Pop star chicks.
We walked out of that concert with 3 hours worth of conversation and we used every last minute of it.
Get Lost my friends....
The pictures were provided by the beautiful Elysabeth Hahm.
Well, it was much more than that my friends. It was a production of excitement blended with moments of fear wrapped in a whirlwind of "what could possibly be next?" questions that fiddled with my emotions so much I ended up enjoying it more than anything else I have done in Korea.
Yeah. I know.
Here goes...
{The First Band was a reggae band. He told us to, "shake ya' booties and feel dah vibreations," in a slightly Jamaican yet almost American slash pirate accent. If you attempt the accent exactly how I described, you most likely nailed it.}{This is ToucH, a Korean Pop band. A group of seven dudes, 4 of which could pass as very attractive girls, all dressed in tight denim and some array of brown leather coat with fake white fur frills and if you look closely you can see the lead singer in the middle with wings sewed into the side of his pants. I'm not making this up.} {The calm before the insanely badly choreographed storm.} {Then boom, wing pants takes flight!...It was really bad. But so bad in fact, I loved every moment of it.}{Now this was interesting. It was a choir group that consisted of 13 different ambassadors wives. They did a medley of 18 traditional folk songs and arguably the most confusing part of the night happened when the wives from Papa New Guinea and the Phillipines did a traditional dance other wise known as 'The Electric Slide'.}
{This was by far the best 20-minutes of my weekend. A Korean band that covered Queen. The lead singer rocked a mustache, the guitarist wore a wig and aviator sunglasses and they conjured the essence of Queen magically. No joke, this Korean dude hit every single note and sounded exactly like Freddy Mercury. At the end of the first song I gave a standing ovation with a wildly too loud yelp in appreciation but when I looked back at the hundreds of Koreans giving me that, "come on, don't be so American dude," look, I quickly sat back down...These guys have been a band for 13 years. Which means this guy has rocked that stache for 13 years which, looking back, is what most likely prompted my adoration for them.}
There was about 10 acts all together that ranged from the K Pop scene to embarrassing Korean rappers to young girls playing traditional instruments to a very talented American rapper and finally finishing with a fantastic Jazz quartet that ended up accompanying some K Pop star chicks.
We walked out of that concert with 3 hours worth of conversation and we used every last minute of it.
Get Lost my friends....
The pictures were provided by the beautiful Elysabeth Hahm.
12.02.2010
Awesome Crying
Last week the strings that pull my conscience one way or the other were vigorously yanked...To the right.
Every month I administer a Spelling Bee to my two groups of smarter kids. One group are 5-year-old's and the other group are 4-year-old's. This month's Spelling Bee unfolded like this.
The 5-year-old's went as usual. One of the smarter kids won, the appropriate high-fives were administered. It was pretty standard. I think it's cruel to put children this old into any type of educational competition, but I walked out with a smile
The 4-year-old class on the other hand exceeded all precedents for a Spelling Bee with tiny people.
Instead of explaining how everything unfolded I will skip to the final round where four kids stood at the front of the class. Three of the students had already won the Bee more than two times. The other student, named Oliva, had not ever won. As a matter of fact, she had never made it to the final round. In the final round I present four words to each student and the student with the most spelled c0rrectly, wins. This Spelling Bee is designed so I can influence the winner. So I did.
(Olivia had been falling behind lately with her English and I have recently made it my goal to help improve her reading. I like Olivia. She told the other students she likes Markuh Teacha' very early on. So naturally, she has been a long time favorite of mine.)
At the end of the round I asked the final four students how many words they spelled correctly. The first said three. The second one said three. The third one said three. The fourth one, Olivia, looked at me shocked, surprised, astonished and simply ecstatic when she finally realized she had spelled four words correctly and had won. With a jump of pure joy she yelled, "FOUR!" She then proceeded to run to my side, wraps her arms around my waist and dig her smiling face into my hip. It was special.
But all of sudden, I noticed another student, Rachel, crying. Her face ran soaked with tears. Her face scrunched together with emotion and she could not hold it in. Everyone in the room paused hoping she was upset because of losing. My Korean co-teacher asked her if she was OK, she nodded slightly. My co-teacher, looking surprised, then asked her, "Are you happy?" She nodded, once again, yes.
My heart dropped. Olivia ran into her friend Rachel's arms and two bawled with happiness over Olivia's accomplishment. They could not hold back the tears of joy.
Witnessing this type of purity turned a page on humanity for me. Rachel was truly happy for her friend. So much so it brought her to tears. This brought me to appreciate my job. I will forever take that moment away with me when I think back on my year of teaching tiny Korean pre-schoolers.
{Rachel on the left and Olivia on the right.}
Get Lost my friends....
Every month I administer a Spelling Bee to my two groups of smarter kids. One group are 5-year-old's and the other group are 4-year-old's. This month's Spelling Bee unfolded like this.
The 5-year-old's went as usual. One of the smarter kids won, the appropriate high-fives were administered. It was pretty standard. I think it's cruel to put children this old into any type of educational competition, but I walked out with a smile
The 4-year-old class on the other hand exceeded all precedents for a Spelling Bee with tiny people.
Instead of explaining how everything unfolded I will skip to the final round where four kids stood at the front of the class. Three of the students had already won the Bee more than two times. The other student, named Oliva, had not ever won. As a matter of fact, she had never made it to the final round. In the final round I present four words to each student and the student with the most spelled c0rrectly, wins. This Spelling Bee is designed so I can influence the winner. So I did.
(Olivia had been falling behind lately with her English and I have recently made it my goal to help improve her reading. I like Olivia. She told the other students she likes Markuh Teacha' very early on. So naturally, she has been a long time favorite of mine.)
At the end of the round I asked the final four students how many words they spelled correctly. The first said three. The second one said three. The third one said three. The fourth one, Olivia, looked at me shocked, surprised, astonished and simply ecstatic when she finally realized she had spelled four words correctly and had won. With a jump of pure joy she yelled, "FOUR!" She then proceeded to run to my side, wraps her arms around my waist and dig her smiling face into my hip. It was special.
But all of sudden, I noticed another student, Rachel, crying. Her face ran soaked with tears. Her face scrunched together with emotion and she could not hold it in. Everyone in the room paused hoping she was upset because of losing. My Korean co-teacher asked her if she was OK, she nodded slightly. My co-teacher, looking surprised, then asked her, "Are you happy?" She nodded, once again, yes.
My heart dropped. Olivia ran into her friend Rachel's arms and two bawled with happiness over Olivia's accomplishment. They could not hold back the tears of joy.
Witnessing this type of purity turned a page on humanity for me. Rachel was truly happy for her friend. So much so it brought her to tears. This brought me to appreciate my job. I will forever take that moment away with me when I think back on my year of teaching tiny Korean pre-schoolers.
{Rachel on the left and Olivia on the right.}Get Lost my friends....
11.22.2010
Korea: The Sandlot of Dreams
I did it. I suited up, put on some spikes, tipped my Dodgers hat and took the field. On Sunday, I played in my first baseball game in Korea.
It was a practice game of sorts that was not actually on a field but rather a big dirt space usually used for soccer. It kinda had a mound. It kinda had a backstop. It kinda had foul lines. It was kind of a baseball diamond.
I played with a group of guys between the ages of 27 and 42 against a team with the same demographics. They were all Koreans, they all smoked in between innings and they all loved playing baseball. The warm-up drills were formally done with batting practice and ground balls to go with it. Everyone had matching uniforms and expensive gear. Pep talks were given with vigor and we even lined up before the game and bowed to the opposing team.
I felt exhilarated. I came from playing in an old-man-softball-league where everyone crushed Keystones, cussed at each other and the idea of a bat-in-hand brawl breaking out always loomed.
Here, respect for the other team and the game comes first.
Our team, Khazon, scored 7 runs in the first inning while I walked and scored on a double. I then played first base. The idea being that I grew up playing baseball so I could at least catch a ball. I liked it. The pitcher tried a few pick off plays and the other team tried speaking English every time they reached first.
It was a perfect way to spend my Sunday. But, after about the fifth inning, and after I had hit an RBI-double and popped out, (4-hours and 15-minutes after I arrived at the ballpark) boredom struck. Everyone stopped talking to me because they had used up all of their English vocabulary and first base is historically a boring position reserved for non-athletic lefties and fat dudes.
But in the sixth, inspiration struck. From the on-deck circle I realized that the bases were loaded when one of my teammates said, "Mark, hit ball fast." I said OK and strolled to the plate. The pitcher had gotten me out my last time up and he looked confident. (Poor guy)
He threw a first pitch fastball. Strike. Then he shook off the catcher's pitch call and smirked. (Again, poor guy) I knew he was going to try his curve. The pitcher reached back, legged kicked like his hip spasmed and floated up a very weak pitch that spun furiously without curving or moving fast.
I crushed it. A grand slam.
While jogging around the bases, everyone on the other team came to a base to high-five me. My team had a high-five line at the plate and the pitcher even gave me a bow after he was taken out of the game. They gave me the ball after and even when I told them it was not necessary, they refused to have it back.
I hit another home-run on my next at-bat and the same parade went down. To be honest, I got a kick out of how excited they got but this is nothing to brag about. The bat I used would have been illegal in American high schools because it was too light and both pitchers were pretty much beginners. I actually felt kind of bad about it after because my RBI's alone put the game out of reach.
The whole day ended up being a very unique and touching experience. The players really went of their way to make sure I was having a good time and to see how passionate they were about a game that is generally taken for granted in the states, was humbling. Most of these guys have only been playing for a few years and even take baseball lessons as adults during the week to get better.
After the game I was called the hero of the day and received many congratulatory hugs.
And to think, it was only a practice game.
Get Lost my friends....
It was a practice game of sorts that was not actually on a field but rather a big dirt space usually used for soccer. It kinda had a mound. It kinda had a backstop. It kinda had foul lines. It was kind of a baseball diamond.
I played with a group of guys between the ages of 27 and 42 against a team with the same demographics. They were all Koreans, they all smoked in between innings and they all loved playing baseball. The warm-up drills were formally done with batting practice and ground balls to go with it. Everyone had matching uniforms and expensive gear. Pep talks were given with vigor and we even lined up before the game and bowed to the opposing team.
I felt exhilarated. I came from playing in an old-man-softball-league where everyone crushed Keystones, cussed at each other and the idea of a bat-in-hand brawl breaking out always loomed.
Here, respect for the other team and the game comes first.
Our team, Khazon, scored 7 runs in the first inning while I walked and scored on a double. I then played first base. The idea being that I grew up playing baseball so I could at least catch a ball. I liked it. The pitcher tried a few pick off plays and the other team tried speaking English every time they reached first.
It was a perfect way to spend my Sunday. But, after about the fifth inning, and after I had hit an RBI-double and popped out, (4-hours and 15-minutes after I arrived at the ballpark) boredom struck. Everyone stopped talking to me because they had used up all of their English vocabulary and first base is historically a boring position reserved for non-athletic lefties and fat dudes.
But in the sixth, inspiration struck. From the on-deck circle I realized that the bases were loaded when one of my teammates said, "Mark, hit ball fast." I said OK and strolled to the plate. The pitcher had gotten me out my last time up and he looked confident. (Poor guy)
He threw a first pitch fastball. Strike. Then he shook off the catcher's pitch call and smirked. (Again, poor guy) I knew he was going to try his curve. The pitcher reached back, legged kicked like his hip spasmed and floated up a very weak pitch that spun furiously without curving or moving fast.
I crushed it. A grand slam.
While jogging around the bases, everyone on the other team came to a base to high-five me. My team had a high-five line at the plate and the pitcher even gave me a bow after he was taken out of the game. They gave me the ball after and even when I told them it was not necessary, they refused to have it back.
I hit another home-run on my next at-bat and the same parade went down. To be honest, I got a kick out of how excited they got but this is nothing to brag about. The bat I used would have been illegal in American high schools because it was too light and both pitchers were pretty much beginners. I actually felt kind of bad about it after because my RBI's alone put the game out of reach.
The whole day ended up being a very unique and touching experience. The players really went of their way to make sure I was having a good time and to see how passionate they were about a game that is generally taken for granted in the states, was humbling. Most of these guys have only been playing for a few years and even take baseball lessons as adults during the week to get better.
After the game I was called the hero of the day and received many congratulatory hugs.
And to think, it was only a practice game.
Get Lost my friends....
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