Bre Dub's Blog

Out of Time

2011-04-16T18:46:00.006-07:00

It’s funny how sometimes, timing is everything. I made it no secret that this season in Ferrol was not the most enjoyable. Unfortunately, playing in Spain will always have an asterisk beside the memory. Despite residing in one of the most beautiful and diverse countries in the world and playing in one of the most respected women’s basketball leagues internationally, I never had the chance to appreciate the country the way I wanted to.

Basketball is only a fraction of the life of an overseas professional. With so many differences and excessive amounts of downtime, it’s essential to meet people and make friends in order to integrate into the culture. In my previous 3 seasons I was very successful at all of the above and flourished not only on the basketball court but, in my social environments. Here in Spain, my social life outside basketball was almost non-existent. The reason: team chemistry. A professional athlete’s network abroad stems from the relationships you develop with your teammates and those associated with club. Sadly, the foreigners (non-Spanish players) were alienated from the beginning for some inexplicable reason. Though I tried to integrate and associate with the girls on my team, they did not want any outsiders to be a part of their group. The foreign imports were treated terribly by our Spanish counterparts, to the point that I sometimes thought I was in some sort of high school nightmare. It was brutal. Though speaking Spanish is not my strong point, I understand it at a very high level. Imagine how it felt sitting in the locker room, riding the bus and running up and down the court everyday, constantly hearing my teammates talk about me (and Jhasmin) while we were right beside them. I’m not stupid. But, I’m also not a confrontational person. With age and experience I’ve learned how to deal with and manage various types of personalities. Instead of being goaded into being 'the problem', I chose to ignore these ridiculous girls and the uncomfortable situations they tried to put me in. I did my job everyday and then made sure not to associate with these teammates off the court. This is the first time I’ve ever had to do this. It was…sad.

When your teammates are not your friends, it’s very difficult to branch out, associate and build relationships with others in a foreign land. That’s not to say I didn’t try or it cannot be done. However, when you do not see familiar faces everyday, it makes befriending someone much tougher. My first step towards fixing this problem was connecting with our men’s team - which ended up being more difficult than anticipated. Most did not speak any English, they practice at another gym and there were no American imports. With one strike on the board, my next step was looking up English speaking consulates in Ferrol (UK, CAN, USA, AUS, etc). I was ecstatic to discover that there was in fact an Irish office in town. Entertaining the thought of being able to hang out with other Anglophones, I visited the consulate with high hopes, only to have them come crashing down. Only one person worked there. He was 65+ and despite holding an Irish passport, barely spoke a word of English. Strike 2. Starting to feel the inklings of failure creep in, I refused to give up and soldiered on. On campus at the University of Ferrol one day, I decided to inquire if there were any Americans studying abroad. Once again, I came up empty handed. My final option was spent searching the Internet and completing random searches on facebook. This too was unsuccessful. Ferrol is a small city and very few people have it listed it as their ‘current city.’ Every name that did come up was definitely Spanish. Luck was not on my side. Extinguishing the last of my options, I accepted that for the most part, I’d be keeping myself entertained for the next 8 months.

Before our last home game of the season, I encountered a cruel twist of fate - meeting 4 Americans during my last week and a half in Ferrol. Not only that, they had been here since October!!! Are you kidding me?! Apparently there are 10 in the city teaching English/learning Spanish at a small college on the outskirts of Ferrol. Not only were they all SUPER cool, but 2 lived a few blocks from my apartment! How does that happen? How did we never bump into each other?! Of course they also frequented the same bars I could be found at on the weekends and cafes I often drank coffee at during the week…unbelievable. Not understanding how we never crossed paths, I spent my last days hanging out with each of them in various settings throughout the week - dinner, coffee, drinks, homemade meals… We all had quite a lot in common and enjoyed doing the same types of things. One of the guys even attended my last home game to cheer me on. What could have been…

Though I’m more than excited to leave Ferrol, I’m kind of sad that fate was so unkind in its timing. I think what is most upsetting is the fact that I did make an effort to get out there and meet people, but due to an extremely bad stroke of luck, I found them too late. I’m certain my experience in Ferrol would have been much different had I connected with this great group of people in October. Ironically, I probably would have loved my time Galicia.

Nevertheless, this is life. These kinds of experiences make me more resilient. The fact is, life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. It’s something that I can’t dwell upon, I just have to be thankful that I was able to meet these people and we were able to enjoy each other’s company in the short time we had together.

That being said, my 4th season abroad is FINALLY over. We finished in 6th place (out of 14) in the LF2 ‘A’ Division with a 16-10 record, missing playoffs. I leave today for a 9-day trip throughout Spain (Madrid, Granada, Seville, Cordoba) with a friend before flying home April 28th. Once settled at home in Vancouver, I plan on posting my annual pros/cons list about the season and share thoughts on my post season trip through Spain.

Until May, Hasta Luego!

-BW

Sidenote: These photos were take from a day trip to Doniños, a beach 30 minutes outside of town. It was a beautiful day, but very cold and windy!

The Un-Glamourous

2011-04-03T05:43:00.007-07:00

I may never beat you off the dribble or blow by you with my first step. It’s unlikely I’ll be selected to take the game winning shot or wow you with my fancy passing. I’ll never be the player everyone wants autographs from or whose moves fans constantly try to mimic…But one thing is for certain – you need me to win basketball games.

I’m the silent one in the background, the tall presence that stays out of the spotlight. I’m the player that accepts my role and tries not to complain about lack of touches. This is one aspect out of my control, as I need my teammates to feed me. Instead of grumbling, I focus on rebounding and interior defense.

I take my lunch pail and put on my blue collar before every game. I sacrifice my body, set screens, take the hits and outwork my opponents. I focus on my strengths and stay away from my weaknesses. I do the dirty work, clean up the glass, bang inside and crash the ‘O’ boards. I’m what gives the team its edge.

I’m the under-appreciated, under-recognized, overlooked and un-glamourous. I’m your big. Your inside player. Your post, pivot and power forward. I may not be the most agile or the most fun to watch. I won’t hit a deep 3 in your face. My physical tools aren’t jaw-dropping and there’s a slim chance I’ll take you coast to coast. But I will be one of your toughest players. I will patrol the paint and I will be the enforcer. I will stand up for my smaller teammates, anchor the team and impose my physical strength on opponents. I will intimidate.

The guards will get the recognition; people will buy their jerseys. Fans will fight for their autograph, chase after them for photos and follow their every move. I, on the other hand will quietly slip out of the arena without fanfare, while nursing multiple war wounds.

The only recognition I want is a pat on the back from my coach and the respect of my teammates.

The perimeter position is glamourized by media. It’s the place everyone wants to play and succeed at. It’s where players are noted and acknowledged. Where careers are cemented. Seemingly, no one wants to play inside anymore and embrace the label of ‘forward’. Nowadays there are 6’9”+ (men) and 6’1”+ (women) who prefer to crossover and shoot jumpers than make drop steps and bank shots. I think it’s because they’re scared to venture in the paint inside. Sadly, the post player is slowly becoming a dying breed.

I don’t need the newspaper articles, TV interviews or radio broadcasts. I’ll take the black eyes (6+), stitches, broken noses (3), and cheap shots under the cup. I’ll accept the bad calls from officials just because I’m bigger and stronger than other players. I’ll take the blame for a missed chippy, layup or rotation in help. I’ll take the brunt of the criticism for team breakdowns because I’m the tallest and always seem to be an easy scapegoat. I’ll take all of it, every time, as long as it puts a tally in the win column.

I’ve been an undersized forward my whole life. I’ve got battle scars, an imperfect nose and an achy body. I’m an inside player and don’t pretend to be anything else.

-BW

Marchin' into the Madness

2011-03-20T11:22:00.005-07:00

For any type of basketball fan, right now is by far the best time of year. Whether cheering for a mid-major, conference power, the underdog, the favorite, your alma mater or even for a university you never knew existed - there’s nothing quite like March Madness. Brackets busted, bandwagon fans hopping from team to team and college colors being seen every which way you turn, March really is the best month of the year.

The worst part of the month? Being in Europe while Madness infiltrates every television station, radio broadcast and newspaper sports section in North America. Though able to watch each game online via live stream, (thank you CBS Sports!) it’s not nearly the same as having a gathering of friends over to talk trash with, heading to the local bar to enjoy a few brews while surrounded by monstrous HDTVs or screaming at the screen and completely losing yourself in the moment, forgetting you’re surrounded by strangers. Instead, I’m stuck watching college basketball alone in my room on my 10-inch Macbook. Most Europeans don’t know much about US college basketball and even if they do, they don’t really care. This tends to put a damper on my personal March Madness.

Nevertheless, I’ve spent all my free time staying up late to watch games, trying to trick myself into being a part of the excitement. Because I can’t share this wonderful time of year with my friends, I’ve tried to duplicate the atmosphere in a couple of ways. First is by watching a live stream while Skyping with a friend who also is watching the same stream. This way, we’re able to watch the game ‘together’…or something like that. When in reality it’s kind of weird because we end up barely talking while staring at our screens, sometimes forgetting the other is there. Or one of our games will be ahead, ruining the build up for the other! Sounds awesome right? Not! Another option I had to resort to and get creative with was using my Blackberry. Missing two games I was most looking forward to watching (SDSU/Temple, Butler/Pitt), while being on a 10 hour road trip, I had to resort to following excruciatingly slow game tracker updates via my Sports Illustrated App. Unsatisfied with having no idea how the game was being played, who had the momentum and which team looked as though they wanted it more - I started to BBM (Blackberry message) with a friend who was watching the game live. She was kind and patient enough to give me (for the most part) the play-by-play and breakdown of the game. Though I’m thankful technology enabled me to be somewhat part of Saturday night’s Madness, I happened to miss out on probably 2 of the most exciting games of the tournament thus far. Dangit!

Because I’m away from everything familiar covering the NCAA tournament, I guess I’ll have to YouTube Saturday’s highlights Sunday morning, rather than catch them on Sports Centre or ESPN. C’est La Vie!

Thankfully, I’ve been home and available when Washington (my alma mater) played its 1st and 2nd round games. If you’re questioning my dedication, check this: I woke up at 3am Saturday morning to watch my Huskies squeak out a victory over Georgia. Though sleep deprived the following day/night, the sacrifice was well worth it. Sadly, today the boys lost a heartbreaker to traditional power North Carolina Tar Heels. They had a chance to win in 7 seconds left, but silly turnovers killed us. Wearing purple and screaming at my computer while alone in my room, I couldn't help but be proud of my DAWGS.

BOW DOWN!

-BW

Basketball Update: I’ll keep this one short and sweet. Four more games left in the season and I get to go home. Draw your own conclusions ☺

Motivation

2011-03-04T10:01:00.005-08:00

I once read somewhere that if you have nothing to write about – don’t. Well that couldn’t have rung truer this past month, as I was unable to find anything worthy of sharing. I’ve been stuck in a rut and only now am finally finding the motivation to dig myself out of it.

This season in Spain has been the most trying of my 4 years abroad. It has challenged me in numerous ways and in all honesty, has been quite miserable. A big reason as to why I play overseas is to travel to new worlds and experience living in foreign lands, all while teaching myself how to adapt, assimilate and thrive within them. When I found out I’d be calling Spain home this season - I was ecstatic. I had heard such wonderful things about the country and league, that I couldn’t wait to leave Vancouver and begin my new adventure.

Unfortunately, the country has failed to live up to my expectations for a variety of reasons. Though I’m happy to be playing in one of the top leagues in the world, I’ve found that this alone cannot provide me with the happiness I desire. Basketball used to be my world - I believed that all I needed was a ball and hoop to be happy. Obvious I was quite naïve, as I find now that this couldn’t be further from the truth.

Though I love the sport with all my heart, there are much more important things in life. When 2011 rolled around I had an epiphany - the reason basketball made me happy was because it surrounded me with great opportunities, relationships and people. These were the other things that contributed to my happiness. Unfortunately, many of these variables do not surround me this year, therefore putting my romantic relationship with basketball on the rocks.

As regular readers know, I have a soft spot for my family and friends. They are the 2 things I value most in the world. In my previous 3 seasons, I was fortunate enough to have made fantastic friends hailing from numerous European countries. This year, I don’t have that luxury. This area of Spain has created a sort of isolation. I won’t get into the specifics of my situation in Galicia, but needless to say I’m very unhappy. So much so, that I don’t like the person I am right now. I’ve always been a motivated, driven individual who loves getting the most out of each and every day. I like to set goals, conquer challenges and explore new surroundings. I’m someone who cherishes every minute and hate seeing time pass quickly. However, Spain has changed me…and not in a good way. I've lost all motivation to do the things that define me. As of right now, the ‘real’ me is missing. If I could use one word to currently describe how I feel, it would be…bleh - and that’s very upsetting. As I type this blog post out, I realize I’m ashamed of how uninspiring and ‘boring’ I’ve become these past couple months. I hate who I am right now and want nothing more than time to fly, so I can go home and get out of this horrible funk.

Which brings me back to motivation. A powerful verb. When lacking it what kind of person do you become? Do you like that person? If the answer is no then it's time to find your inner motivation (whatever it may be) and use it to get out of your funk. Find something that motivates you to become the person you want to be. Don’t let outside factors hold you back, no matter how hard they try to bring you down. Everyone has their own personal burdens and challenges that stand in the way, but it's up to you to escape them strive to become who you want to be!

Writing this post is the first step in motivating myself to find and revive the 'real' Bre Dub. I’m going to fight my way through this slump, no matter who or what tries to take me down! It’s time to make a change and rediscover my happiness - bring it on!

-BW

Sidenote: This was not meant to be a self-pitying post, rather an update that paints a picture of my current emotions and experience in Spain. Obviously, it’s not the most glowing report, but an honest depiction that I hope can be understood! The life of a professional athlete is not as glamourous as it seems sometimes. :)

It's a Small World After All

2011-02-06T13:38:00.007-08:00

As the season wears on, it's of no surprise that my body is starting to complain more and more. Some mornings I wake up and feel as though I’m 40 years old. Only 25, every joint has taken a consistent beating year after year due to a competitive basketball schedule. Unfortunately, I'm already beginning to feel the effects.

Throughout my high school, university and professional playing career I’ve remained relatively injury free (knock on wood). Though I’ve never had a surgery, I’ve visited my fair share of doctors, physiotherapists and chiropractors. Keeping the body as close to 100% is very important in my line of work and requires a constant effort.

After a week of suffering though uncomfortable lower back pain, I finally decided to visit our team physio Angel. I’m not one to complain about injuries, nor do I enjoy spending excessive amounts of time rehabbing, but it's better than being held out of practice. I don’t really like special treatment. If your injury disables you to the point that it’s affecting your play - ok, but if you can handle the pain – suck it up and stop being a baby. Maybe I’m a masochist, but that’s always been my approach.

Anyway, after being poked, prodded and questioned, I was finally granted what I really wanted - a massage. During a long period of silence, I decided to engage Angel in conversation. Though we don't share a common language, we were somehow able to communicate and I was surprised to where the conversation led. Practicing my Spanish, Angel commented on how adaptable and friendly Canadians are. Swelling with pride, I couldn’t help but agree with his observation. Wondering how he had deducted this from just speaking with me, he explained that a couple of seasons ago, the women’s team had employed 2 Canadian girls (coincidentally, both of who I know and had played on the National Team with). He then continued to explain that 2 Canadians had also played for the men’s club in the 80’s. Not expecting to recognize the names, I asked anyway. “Rick Hanger and Lars Hansen.” The moment Angel said Lars’ name, I couldn’t believe it - Lars is from the Greater Vancouver area (my hometown), played at the University of Washington (my alma mater) and is an acquaintance of my father!

Though completely different players (Lars 6’10 center, my dad 6’5 swingman) the 2 share a lot in common. Lars was BC High School MVP in ’71 and ’72, while my dad was MVP in ’60 and ’61 (yep, he’s a tad old and grey...love you daddy!) Upon graduation, my dad went on to play for legendary coach Marv Harshman at Washington State. Similarly, Lars went to play for Coach Harshman 10 years later at the University of Washington. My father and Lars have played together many times during the mature parts of their careers. Lars is a member of the Canadian and British Columbia Basketball Hall of Fame, the latter of which my father will be inducted into in April. I’ve met Lars a handful of times and the fact that he played here in Ferrol blows my mind!

Sharing this information with Angel, he quipped “so all you Canadians do know each other?” I laughed. It seemed as though the stereotype was true. “Just a coincidence” I stated with a smile. Angel called his father into the room and shared the info I had just told him. He was ecstatic and left the room, returning with a team photo. He explained he had been the physiotherapist for Lars’ Ferrol team when they played in the ACB. Crazy!

Every year I’m abroad, I can’t help but shake my head. No matter how far I am from home, I always seem to stumble upon something or some sort of information that surprises me and proves that it really is a small world after all…

-BW

Basketball Update: And the roller coaster continues…2 weeks ago we lost to one of the worst teams in the league on the road. Though they had changed 3 players and their coach over the Christmas break, talent wise, we were still the superior team. Nevertheless, that day Carmelitas wanted it more than us. With an unkind rim and soft defense we quickly found ourselves down 20. Finally finding some will after halftime, we battled back to make it a 1-point deficit with 1 minute to play. Unfortunately, it was too little to late and we were handed the L. Lets just say the following week of training and meetings were the furthest thing from enjoyable…However, the following weekend we managed to bounce back and destroyed the 2nd place team (who prior to playing us, had only lost twice) at home by 18. Yup, 18 points. Happy with the win, I was also frustrated. We have the talent to be the 2nd or 3rd place team in the league, but it depends on which personality shows up Saturdays. Our team is very young and attitude and discipline are problems that hurt us. Until we find a cure for this, I don’t know what to expect. Road game versus the 3rd place team today…fingers crossed.

Stormy Weather

2011-01-26T10:14:00.011-08:00

Lost in a mass of people speaking a language I don't understand
Feeling the twinge of loneliness while living in a foreign land

Same routine day after day
Wishing I could call a close friend just to catch up at a cafe

An isolated life to play the game I love
But wondering if the trade off is worth it when push comes to shove

Its been a great 4 years, 3 more than ever thought
Reflecting I am grateful and know it wasn't all for naught

3 months to go with a salary to be paid
Wondering if this is the last time I decide to live the unique life I have made

Bouncing a ball and shooting a hoop
When coming home I feel so out of the loop

Europe has been wonderful, but I'm now looking beyond
Thinking it may be time to start over again and finally move on...

-BW

Perdóna, Your Smoke is in My Face

2011-01-16T13:54:00.011-08:00

(Author’s note: this post reflects personal opinion and is not meant to offend those that choose to smoke.)

I hate cigarettes. The smell, the taste, the way smoke embeds itself into clothing and hair…ugh. It can take days for the stench to dissipate from a favorite jacket or an extensive hair washing or two to rid of the smell. This goes without mentioning how bad cigarettes are for your health and the potential quality of life problems they can create.

Essentially, I’ve lived a relatively smoke free life. My parents are non-smokers and my friends too refrain from lighting up. In fact, of all the people I spend quality time with, I can’t think of one smoker. I suppose since I’ve been active in athletics my entire life and the fact that I’m currently employed as a professional athlete factors into these realities as well.

From high school until now, I have never found myself in a situation where I had felt pressured to try ‘be cool’ or ‘fit in’ by smoking. Perhaps it was the people I associated with or an unspoken respect that I was given. Clearly, I was not interested in the tobacco filled sticks and had never been inclined to try.

In 2008, British Columbia passed a law prohibiting smoking in enclosed public spaces and workplaces. Before this law was passed, most restaurants and public areas had already enforced this type of law themselves, so it wasn’t a huge adjustment.

Washington State bettered BC’s law by almost 3 years in 2005, suggesting “all Washington residents had the right to breathe clean air.” I don’t think I could agree more. In fact, I didn’t even realize smoking was allowed indoors until traveling across the United States with my college basketball team for away games. Eating pre-game meals in restaurants from Texas to Minnesota, Illinois to Iowa, I found myself holding my breath while trying to enjoy dinner. Only then did I realize how progressive and thankful I was to be born and raised in the Northwest. Currently, Canada enforces a nationwide ban on smoking in all public indoor areas, whereas in the United States still does not have a national ban.

I don’t have a problem with smokers – it’s a lifestyle choice. I just don’t enjoy being subjected to the byproduct of a cigarette when I personally choose not to smoke. Secondhand smoke is just as harmful as puffing on a cigarette. Non-smokers who breathe in secondhand smoke take in nicotine and other toxic chemicals just as smokers do. It’s harmful and there is nothing I hate more than breathing in a cloud of someone’s smoke. Cough, cough!

I wasn’t really affected by European smoking laws until my 2nd season in Portugal. (Finland and Sweden like Washington State had imposed smoking bans in public places in 2005.) Though smoking indoors was discouraged, it wasn’t enforced. I was shocked by the number of people (and ages!) I saw lighting up in Portugal. It seemed to be a part of the culture – one that was thoroughly embraced. As much as I tried to distance myself from the fumes, it proved to be nearly impossible. As much as I disliked inhaling the harmful toxins, I found ways to live with it.

Aside from bars and nightclubs, Luxembourg was much better than Portugal. Secondhand smoke became more of an issue when I took trips to Germany, France, Belgium and Greece. Germany and Greece were by far the worst, with very few anti-tobacco laws. Smoking was evident anywhere and everywhere. I remember while in Athens visiting friends and practicing with a Greek team, I was shocked to see the team’s administration light up on the sidelines while we were running lines on the court. Unbelievable! Friends who have played in Greece said it was not unusual to play under a constant cloud of smoke. Wow. It should be no surprise that Greece has the highest rate of tobacco consumption in the EU at 40%.

Here in Spain, I have a much better appreciation of the laws Canada has imposed and enforced. Never have I lived in a country where it was next to impossible to find a smoke free environment indoors. Since arriving to Ferrol in September, I struggled to enjoy my daily café con leche(s), rarely entertained the idea of eating out and couldn’t stand spending more than an hour in a small nightclub or bar. The smokey fog that blanketed every indoor facility made routine activities unbearable. The constant smell and cloudiness that filled my lungs with each breath made me sick, to the point that I started avoiding social gatherings. I couldn’t handle the irritating environment anymore. Upset with how smoking was affecting my social life, I was beyond ecstatic in early December when learning Spain planned to impose a national anti-tobacco law on January 1, 2011 in all indoor facilities. Translating newspaper articles, watching TV interviews and questioning Spanish friends, I had a feeling the ban would be ineffective and people would continue to do as they pleased. Spanish people are very proud and somewhat indignant – a new law was not going to stop them from chain smoking while enjoying their afternoon wine/beer/vermouth.

Returning after Christmas, I began counting down the days until I could enjoy a café at my favorite bar while breathing clean air. When the New Year finally arrived, I was shocked to find that for the most part, Spaniards have been abiding by the anti-tobacco law. Though still clearly upset about it, I find it somewhat amusing to see packs of people huddled outside doorsteps after sipping on coffee, running outside for a smoke, only to return and finish their beverage. This is a huge step for Spain and by the end of the year I’m sure it will be a non-issue.

Ser Fuerte España!

Basketball Update: As alluded to in my previous posts, 2011 has not been easy for us. With only 8 roster players and 2 currently injured, practice situations and game rosters are not ideal. We lost our first game after Christmas break by 7. It was one of those games that you'd love to replay. Leading most of the match, we saw our advantage slowly diminish as we entered the 4th quarter. Never able to get the defensive stop we needed to get something going, it was a very disappointing loss. Lugo deserved the win. This weekend was as important as the last. With 6 players dressed and a junior player on the bench in case of emergency - it was not looking good. Facing a team with the largest frontline in the league (including 6'6" Krista Phillips, member of the Canadian National Team) our focus was to stay out of foul trouble not let the ball inside. I don't know how we did it, but we managed to pull out a 4 point victory that was determined in the final minutes. With our fans screaming at the top of our their lungs our starting PG fouling out with 2 minutes to play, we came together and screamed with relief when the final buzzer sounded. Phew! Time to start a winning streak.

-BW

Sidenote: The provided pictures are from my most recent 'getaway' to the beautfiul city of La Coruña, the former capital of Galicia and a 50 minute ride from Ferrol.

Feliz Año Nuevo!

2011-01-03T08:58:00.017-08:00

New Years Eve is often an over-hyped holiday that usually ends in disappointment. Many people tend to spend excessive amounts of money on expensive outfits or entry to premier events, only to be disappointed when the clock strikes 12. I used to be one of those people, but have since learned from those experiences. Now, I find myself a huge advocate of celebrating at a low key venue among close friends.

The past couple years, a group of us opted to glam ourselves up, while counting down to midnight at a local dive bar. It’s great, because we are able to experience the best parts of NYE – looking fabulous and ringing in a New Year with those important.

Since being abroad, I’ve been fortunate enough to have had both Christmas and New Years at home during the holiday break. However, this season I was granted a short 6-day stay, most of which was lost during travel. Extremely disappointed in being unable to continue the tradition of spending NYE at Targy’s Tavern on Queen Anne, I finally made peace with welcoming 2011 in España.

“New Years in Spain? How exciting!” was the common response received when discussing my plans for the 31st. However, it was not as exciting as it sounded. The moment I stepped off the plane in Ferrol (midnight of the 27th), I was informed I had to be on the court at 10am the following morning. Can anyone say jetlag? After 20 hours of travel and less than 9 hours to acclimate, I was not a happy camper.

Our first game isn’t until January 8th. However, since the 27th we’ve had 2-a-days of straight conditioning - everyday. No practice, just running and sprinting. Sometimes we’ll shoot for an hour afterward, but it seems as though we’re training for a marathon. In addition, we currently have 8 roster players, 3.5 of which are injured or sick. Because of this, only 4 of us (the 3 imports and 1 Spanish girl...) have completed every conditioning drill. I’m beyond exhausted and don’t understand the rationale. Being home for a week did not get me out of shape. This is somewhat concerning, as I feel these actions may lead to more injuries. With only 8 players on the roster and half out of service, we need to be smart. Instead, we're wearing down the uninjured individuals - the ones expected to play close to 40 minutes this weekend.

Anyway, back to the topic of the post, New Years Eve. Once I learned I had to return to Spain earlier than thought, I decided to be positive. Weighing a variety of options, I planned to either welcome 2011 in Madrid, bus to Portugal to celebrate with a friend or even fly to Luxembourg. Unfortunately, none of these options were feasible. The club had scheduled practice the afternoon of NYE – thus my plans went out the window.

After surviving yet another grueling cardio workout, I was determined to have an enjoyable evening. With most of my teammates deciding to stay in for the night, I had to come up with something – fast. Thankfully, Selma (Bosnian teammate) and our Spanish friend Laura wanted to celebrate. Quickly formulating a plan, we decided to meet at Laura’s apartment downtown around 10pm to prepare for the festivities. The evening began well (I met with one of our men's players for a drink before heading to Laura's), but unfortunately, it did not go as expected.

In North America, we’re used to starting New Years Eve festivities around 9-10pm, in anticipation of midnight. But it isn’t the same in Spain (or perhaps N. Spain…or maybe just Ferrol...) Walking to Laura’s apartment, I couldn’t help but notice that most bars/restaurants were closed and didn’t open until 1am. Huh? Confused, I waved the thought away and continued on. Arriving around 10pm, I knocked on the door to find my friends in sweatpants, while I was rocking a short, leopard print dress. Thinking I had missed something, the girls told me not to worry and said they had plenty of time to get ready. Unsure, I decided to go with the flow to see what was going to happen. As the clock crept closer and closer to midnight, I began to worry. “Guys, shouldn’t we go to a bar or something now…so we will be there for the countdown??” Laughing, they told me everyone does the countdown to midnight in their homes (while eating grapes - see video below) and then goes out around 2am. What??! Disappointed with the way the night was unfolding, I slumped down on the couch. Shoving 12 grapes in my mouth while the clock chimed midnight from Plaza Major, I couldn’t help but wonder what my friends and family were doing during this exciting time at home…

Happy New Year! Only the best to come in 2011. Here’s to that! ☺

-BW

Sidenote: I don’t mean to sound like a negative Nancy in the post, rather, trying to reflect the differences between Europe and North America. Sometimes it’s hard picking up new traditions, especially when so far from everything familiar. After 2011 made it’s way to Spain, we stayed in Laura’s apartment for 2 more hours before the bars finally opened. By that time, I was ready for bed! Dragging myself to the first taverna was all I could handle. Finishing my drink, I headed home alone in my high heels and short dress.

Genuinely Generous

2010-12-16T09:13:00.010-08:00

Living in a foreign country can be scary. Typically, you’re entering an environment where language, culture and beliefs are much different than what you consider normal. People look different, sound different and even act different. It’s bizarre and at times can be somewhat lonely and isolating. Adapting is not easy, but is essential if you plan on enjoying your new surroundings.

Though this season has been an adjustment for many different reasons, I’m blown away by the hospitality I’ve received from the Spanish people. For the first time in my 4 seasons abroad, I’m finding most of my friends are not necessarily basketball players, but everyday individuals. It’s quite…refreshing.

Ferrol is a fairly small city and it’s obvious I don’t belong. I stand out with my light hair and eyes, tall stature and style of clothes. Whether it's because of these characteristics or the fact that I’ve become somewhat recognizable, many of the locals have taken a keen interest in me. I’ve had people stop me on the street offering congratulations after a good game, received absurd amounts of friend requests on facebook and am consistently presented with saved photos or newspaper articles from a bartender whose bar I visit weekly for a pre-practice café. It’s humbling. Today I walked into my favorite bar where I was greeted by the regulars and given the thumbs up by a few who follow the team. Pulling out my wallet to pay for my morning café, I was waved off and told it had been taken care of by someone who had left. Wow. It’s these little acts of kindness that go a long way.

It’s hard to express how thankful I am for the generosity I’ve encountered. The Spanish people continually go out of their way so that I (a visitor), am able to enjoy and experience the country they are so passionate about.

Just when I thought I had seen it all, I was completely dumbfounded by how a friend (visiting from Seattle) and I were treated Monday afternoon. Consulting my Spanish amiga Laura (who speaks zero English), I gave her the mission of finding a restaurant where Daesha (who came to visit after attending a professional showcase camp in Germany) and I could experience a genuine Spanish meal. Never one to disappoint, she had just the place in mind. Hopping on the bus (which Laura paid for, refusing to let her ‘guests’ spend a dime), we traveled 10 minutes outside Ferrol to Narón, where we made our way inside Casa Vicente. As soon as we walked in the door, I nodded in appreciation. With jamón hanging from the ceiling, pictures of historic Spanish events covering the walls and not an inch of wall, shelf or table space available, I knew we were about to have an amazing afternoon.

Sitting down at the bar, we were immediately served Spanish cider, white wine and warm empanadas. Not looking at the menu, the owner decided what we would eat, constantly returning with tapas and keeping our wine glass full. Once settled, we were introduced to the owner’s partner (a gorgeous Spanish man, who also happened to be a police officier) who was directed to give us a tour of the place. No argument from me! Grabbing our full glasses, we were led to a back room where a table had been set for four. Following José, we were led into a massive wine cellar, home to a collection worth well over 1€ million euros! Seriously. There were thousands of bottles from every country you could imagine. Some dating back to the 1800s! Apparently the owner’s father was a good friend of Franco during his regime, explaining why the cellar contained numerous bottles emblazoned with the general’s personal seal.

Eventually picking our jaws up off the floor, we were taken to the backyard which was filled with geese, pigs, chickens and a turtle! Learning a little more about the wine collection and history of the restaurant, José took us back to our private dining area – where the first course was waiting. Sad to see him leave, he said he’d be back to check on us. Phew! ☺ I won’t go into too much detail about the food, but will say it was amazing. We were served 4 courses, followed by desert and cafés. Not to mention the bottles of wine and liquors that seemed to continually find their way to our table. The owner and his gorgeous partner consistently checked in on us, making sure the food was ok and our wine glasses were always full. After eating and drinking as much as humanly possible, we slowly began our departure. Thanking the owner numerous times while pulling out our wallets, he insisted that we were his guests and that our meal (worth well over 50€/person) was gratis (free). Unable to comprehend how someone we just met could be so generous, we literally had to fight with the man for close to 10 minutes, before he begrudgingly accepted the 20€ each we stuffed in his pocket. It was unbelievable how kind the man was. He kept insisting that ‘Montreal’ (even though I told him numerous times I was from Vancouver) and ‘USA’ should enjoy a free meal in Spain. What a sweetheart.

Of course we weren’t able to make it out of the restaurant until we shared a flute of champagne with the men, tried the owner's favorite beer and downed yet another aperitif liquor ‘for digestion.’ And, if you can believe it, Daesha and I didn’t leave empty handed. He gave both of us numerous bottles of liquor ‘as a gift to remember him by.’ It was amazing! This was the first time we had met the man! Mentioning we had to leave to catch our bus, the owner grabbed José (the policeman ☺) and ordered him to drive us back to Ferrol. Not batting an eye, he opened the doors of his Mercedes for a smooth ride back to Ferrol. Writing this now, I still cannot put into words the generosity I’ve experienced from people here thus far…only halfway through the season and I am already grateful for what I’ve been able to see and experience here in España.

Returning to my apartment with a full stomach and red cheeks, I’m pretty sure Daesha will have something to talk about when she gets home!

Basketball Update: Though nice to have a friend in town, it was a terrible weekend for my team. Losing an extremely important road game to a team we’re better than really hurt. Up 14 and in control for 30 minutes, we completely fell apart in the 4th quarter. I can’t even describe what happened. We were slow and unfocused. Despite my non-impressive stat line (5pts, 6rbs), I thought I played well. My defense was tough and I hustled on every play. Saturday my shots just wouldn’t drop (I only took 6). This was my worse statistical outing in Spain thus far. Though frustrating, we have to move on. We must win this weekend before the holiday break. Currently, we have only 8 players and 2 are injured right now (both our point guards!). Despite our lack of bodies and injuries we still are practicing twice a day (with conditioning!) and have 2 hour night practices. It’s crazy! I’m tired and run down. I know the other girls are too. I don’t want to use it as an excuse, but I do think fatigue was a factor in last weeks game. I really hope there is enough left in the tank for this weekend…

-BW

Sidenote: The blog will be on hiatus while I'm at home in Vancouver for the Holidays. Here's wishing you and your loved ones a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Please come back and visit in 2011!

It’s Beginning to Look a lot like…Christmas?

2010-12-06T14:30:00.006-08:00

Brightly colored lights strung high upon building terraces, Christmas trees struggling to stand tall despite the weight of numerous decorations, jolly men dressed in red suits and the smell of cinnamon in the air…this really is the most wonderful time of the year.

Too bad the aforementioned doesn’t seem to exist in Northern Spain. At least from what I’ve seen. Sadly, this season I’m not really feeling the Christmas spirit. I love this time of year more than anything else. The atmosphere, celebrations, sense of kindness and sudden realization of meaningful relationships. But it’s also one of the most difficult times of the year, as I spend most of it in isolation away from those I hold closest to me. I’m not looking for pity, but I believe December is a month where we should take the time to cherish those closest to us. Family, friends, significant others, pets, etc…it’s hard being away from the place you call home during the holiday season. My nomadic lifestyle the past 4 years has consistently kept me away from North America during this time. Despite the obstacle, I make sure to find ways to enjoy it while far from home. From tracking down Christmas Markets in neighboring cities, to viewing tree lightings, drinking mulled wine and spending absurd amounts of money on gifts. I find ways to occupy myself, even though a large ocean separates me from those I love.

Though difficult being in one place when I want to be in another – I really do cherish the Christmas spirit and make sure to keep a smile on my face. However, this season it is proving to be quite difficult. There are no Christmas markets nearby or glühwein being brewed. I have yet to see a Christmas tree (other than in a few storefront windows) and the lack of Christmas lights around town is disappointing. I don’t know if it’s Ferrol, or Spain in general – but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. It's sad. In my previous years abroad I was fortunate to witness new traditions and join in on different types of holiday cheer. Unfortunately, I can’t find any of that here. I’ve looked for Christmas markets and strolled the streets to admire holiday decorations, only to return unsuccessful. Why are my not hearing Christmas songs being replayed continuously on the radio or in downtown shops? How come I haven’t seen a wreath on a door or buildings trimmed with excessive amounts of holly? You’d be hard pressed to find a poisetta or Santa Claus himself in this area of Galicia. Right now, things feel very…beige.

Which is probably why I’m counting down the hours until I board a plane home for a much needed (albeit short) break. I doubt I’ll have much time to sleep, as once I land on Canadian soil I’ll be attending Christmas parties, finding excuses to wear gaudy Christmas attire, baking holiday treats with my mom, walking around Stanley Park at night to view Christmas lights, wandering the streets of Vancouver during its very own Christmas Market, spending time with my grandparents, spoiling my family with gifts and catching up with close friends. With 2 very important games left before the break, I know I have a job to do; but my heart is aching to go home where I can sit in front of the fire with a cup of hot chocolate while my mom and I kick my dad and brother’s butts in Apples to Apples and Cranium.

13 days and counting…

Basketball Update: Lost a tough one this weekend to the number one team in the league. It was a close the entire game, but came down to the visitors lighting our nets on fire with their 3 balls. We ended up losing by 14. Encouraging because we know they’re beatable (had we played better defense on the long ball we would of won), discouraging because we didn’t adjust and lost focus during at crucial points. Two games left before break, both of which are must wins.

-BW

Pas Parle Americano!

2010-11-28T05:16:00.009-08:00

Language is a funny thing. No matter which country I find myself in each year, communication always remains a constant obstacle. Though I’m a very adaptable individual, there are some barriers that are always difficult to overcome. I’ve written about this topic before, but it’s one that continues to both intrigue and surprise me.

Last Saturday I found myself in a situation that exemplifies my life in Europe. Fresh off a hard fought overtime win, one of my Spanish friends called and suggested I gather some teammates for tapas and drinks. Let me preface this by saying Laura (the Spanish friend) does not play on my team and works at a clothing store I frequent. She speaks very little English, actually hardly any – yet we’re able to communicate somehow and grab a café once a week to practice each other’s respective languages.

Inviting 2 of my Spanish teammates, my Bosnian teammate (who speaks 6 languages) and her friend Giulia visiting from Italy (only speaks Italian), we met Laura downtown later that evening at a busy Galician tapas bar. After introductions, Laura ordered a variety of Galician specialties for us to sample. The food was amazing and surprisingly, so was the conversation. Throughout the night, 3 different languages were being spoken at the table – yet somehow, we were able to have an animated dialogue on a variety of topics. It was awesome. Of course there were moments of misunderstanding and over exaggeration of gestures, but despite the obstacles, 6 girls from 4 different countries had a great time getting to know each other better. At one point in the night I remember sitting back in my chair and just taking it all in. Wow. During a night filled with 3 different types of vocabulary, I was momentarily speechless. It was a perfect example of how despite differences, there is always a way for people to communicate with one another and get along. It's moments like this that make Europe so special to me. By the end of the night, I was spouting off phrases in Italian to Giulia while answering questions in Spanish that were posed to me in English! Call me Miss International…heeeyyyyyy!

Basketball/Life Update: For those that follow my blog regularly, I apologize for my 2-week absence. Even this post is somewhat lacking. Recently, I’ve been quite busy with school (finals week/group project/final assignments). Currently, I’m working towards my Marketing Management Associates Certificate in Public Relations from BCIT. I’ve been in the program for a little over a year now and only have 3 classes left before completion! I was able to attend courses while at home this summer (Public Speaking being one of them – which I LOVED!) and am lucky enough that 2 of my last 4 courses I can take online. If anyone is interested in viewing the blog I had to maintain for my Social Media Marketing class (which I’m currently wrapping up), the link can be found here. Aside from schoolwork, I’ve been helping a friend plan her visit (Daesha arrives Dec. 9th!), keeping up with our demanding practice schedule while also trying to maintain somewhat of a social life. Basketball wise, things are going well. As of late, my team has been on a recent tear. After starting the season 1-2, we’ve bounced back with a 5 game winning streak and are currently sitting in 4th place at 6-2. With 3 games left before Christmas break, the goal is to win 2 of 3. If will be difficult, as next week we face the 1st place team followed by 2 others sitting close to us in the standings. I normally don’t talk much about my statistics, but I’m currently leading the league in offensive rebounds per game and sit in 2nd in total rebounds overall. Because rebounding is my favorite part of the game, this is something I’m quite proud of.

If interested, click here and here to view recent articles written about my successes in Spain.

Hasta Luego!

-BW

Sidenote: I've compiled an album of the photos I've taken during my travels. It includes at least one photo from every country/major city I've visited outside of North American thus far. View it by clicking the labeled link on the right sidebar or by clicking here.

Know Your Role!

2010-11-12T05:03:00.007-08:00

New season. New country. New team. Same expectations – sort of. Though my job description rarely differs from year to year, it’s adjusting to the role each new team gives me that can be toughest.

In high school, it was easy. I just played basketball – and I was good at it. Points, rebounds, steals, blocks, assists – you name it, I did it. I stuffed the stat sheet without any interest in what numbers filled what column. Each time I stepped on the court I was excited to be playing the game I love – not concerned about the expectations people had placed on me.

Once I entered university, I realized things were going to be different. Everyone was a former high school star, thus the majority of us were asked to wear different hats in order for the team to succeed. At Washington I wasn’t looked upon to score, rather do the dirty work - play tough defense, rebound, make hustle plays, run the floor and hit open shots. Though at times I felt my abilities and contributions were limited – I took my role in stride. If fulfilling these requirements would help us win basketball games and take us to the NCAA tournament, I was all for it. Sure it was an adjustment and I often felt outside my comfort zone (spending the majority of my time behind the 3-point line), but we advanced each year in the Pac-10 tournament and played post season 3 of my 4 years. I have no regrets about my on court contributions at UW, I just wish I had been given a little more freedom to show what type of player I really was (am).

After graduating from UW, I figured that was the end of my competitive basketball career. When in reality, it was the just the beginning. Unsure of what to do with my first summer of freedom, I ended up participating in Spokane Hoopfest for the first time. Those who know me well understand this is an event I hold very close to my heart. Playing on a team composed of extremely elite level players (and close friends) I would be taking on a role similar to the one at UDUB. With a potent combination of scorers (Lindsey Wilson - All-American at Iowa State, WNBA draft pick, European professional, Casey Nash - All Pac-10 at Oregon State, Pac-10 scoring champ, former European professional and Amy Taylor - GNAC player of the year, former European professional), I was more than happy to let the guard types take shots while I cleaned up the boards and patrolled the paint. This is a role I truly cherish and enjoy. I have no qualms about it either, as I feel my skills are being used effectively in the half court 3 on 3 event. I can honestly say Hoopfest is when I have the most fun playing basketball.

Playing in Hoopfest only re-lit my competitve fire. After the tournament I decided I wasn’t done. I was going to try and play pro. Connecting with an agent, I was ready to start my career overseas. Initially I thought I’d play a year to try it and then join the real world. Well, it’s been 4 years and I’m still bouncing a ball across Europe.

Each professional season I’ve not only been able to travel numerous countries, but I have also learned a lot about myself as a person and as a basketball player. I’ve finally been able to develop into the type of player I always knew I could be. I’m happy with my game and understand what I can and cannot do on the court.

With every new team that has employed me, I’ve been asked to take on a different role. First and foremost was to score and score a lot. At first, the idea seemed as foreign as my surroundings. After 4 years of scoring off of fast break layups, offensive put backs and corner jumpers, I’d forgotten how to take control of a game and put the ‘biscuit in the basket.’ Finland was an eye opener. My team had 3 import professionals (me and 2 North Americans) who were all in their first year and all expected to score bunches of points. Thankfully we played well together and the scoring machine I knew in high school gradually made a return. Rebounding, which has always been my forte, was never a problem - but regaining my confidence on the offensive side was an important part of my overseas development. Looking back, playing in Scandinavia (I signed in Sweden for 2 months of post season play after failing to reach the playoffs in Finland) was the perfect place to start – as it introduced me to what was to come.

In my second season I agreed to terms with one of the top teams in Portugal. Employing my American teammate as the main scoring focus, my role was to average a double-double and take pressure off of her. After she experienced a season ending injury, I was forced into the starring role. I relished the opportunity and was able to continuously improve my offensive skill set. A month later the team brought in Casey Nash (good friend and fellow Hoopfest teammate) to help share the scoring load. Once again I was lucky, as Casey and I shared great chemistry and complimented one another on the court.

However, the biggest role I’ve ever taken on was last year in Luxembourg. Though perhaps not the strongest league in Europe, it was there I was expected to do the most and experienced the most pressure. In Lux, you’re literally paid to produce results. As the only full-time professional on a team, a win or loss is pinned solely on your shoulders. If you’re not averaging 25+pts, 12+rbs a game and outshining or shutting down your opposing American counterpart, your job is on the line. There’s money in Luxembourg and they’re more than happy to swap you out next week if you aren’t providing more wins than losses. It’s an exceptional league and changes the way you think about the game. The reason I love basketball is because it’s a team sport, but in Lux you’re expected to do almost everything on your own. Thankfully, I was blessed once again to be put in a good situation that provided me with a strong supporting cast. We put together a great season, reaching both the league and cup finals. It was here I developed mentally as a player.

Which finally, brings me to my current season in Spain. This is by far the best team/league I’ve played on in my 4 years abroad. My team currently employs 6 full time professionals (2 North Americans, 3 Spaniards, 1 European). The basketball level is high and every game (thus far) has been competitive. Though I don’t believe I’ll ever play at a higher level than NCAA Div. I, Spain has brought back some of my passion that was beginning to wane. This season I’m in more of a supporting role. With so many scoring options, I’m expected to rebound, defend and score close to the basket. With our lack of height I have be a force underneath the basket, despite being eternally undersized. ☺ I’m happy with what is expected of me and feel I can put together a strong year. Though my numbers are much lower than the previous three (currently averaging 14.2 points 9.5 rebounds [4.8 offensive] per game while shooting 50% from the floor), I realize I’m in a much more competitive league with yet another role to fill. My goal is to finish the year averaging 15pts and 10rbs. And I feel I’m more than capable of doing so.

Important road game this weekend - looking for the 'dub' to make it 3 in a row!

-BW

Siesta to Fiesta!

2010-11-02T08:05:00.010-07:00

I’m no party animal, but definitely know how to have a good time. Though I enjoy the night scene, you won’t ever find me throwing up outside a bar, passed out on someone’s couch or stumbling out of a nightclub long past last call. I don’t spend evenings at the bar planning to meet a guy who can barely remember his own name in the morning; I go out because I enjoy dressing up, listening to good music and dancing the night away with a group of friends.

I wasn’t always like this however. In fact, I’ve come a long way since my college days. I rarely partied in university - I was too focused on basketball, attending athletic events, doing well in school and spending time with my close friends. Before I entered my senior year, I could count on one hand how many parties I had attended. Staying out late and drinking all night really wasn’t my scene.

Looking back on my college years, I would have done some things differently. Sometimes I wish I had been a little more social and attended some of the crazy football parties or frat events. Heading into my senior year, I finally decided to open up. Living my first 3 years with athletes only, I needed to get outside of the familiarity of the athletic department and meet some new people. Hearing about a house full of ‘civilians’ (what us athletes called regular students…☺) on Greek Row looking for a roommate, I got in touch with a girl in the house and expressed my interest in the available bedroom. Hours later, I was the newest member of an 8 bedroom house full of girls! Being a straight-laced, clean and a painfully organized individual – I was unsure of what I had gotten myself into. Biting the bullet, I decided to spend my last year of university in the loudest area of the U-District. And you know what? It was the best thing that could of happened to me. I met new people, became close with ‘regular students’, attended parties and even hosted a few! I dressed up (dresses, big hair and makeup!) for events I would never of thought of attending. The girls in the house helped bring out a side of me I didn’t know; a side opposite of the one I had been my first 3 years. Though still focused and determined when it came to basketball and schoolwork, I learned how to balance the ‘job side’ of university (basketball, school) while also experiencing and enjoying the social part of college life.

However, if I thought I knew how to party during my senior year in college, I quickly found I was barely an amateur when I came to Europe. Europeans are crazy…they make frat boys look calm. Each passing year I spend in a new country, I’m continually amazed by the amount of energy and stamina Europeans possess when it comes to enjoying the night. Finland, Sweden and Portugal were fairly tame. Luxembourg was pretty crazy, but Spain is flat out insane! The Spaniards break every record when it comes to going out. As evening turns to early morning, the only thing on their mind is dancing until the sun comes up. It’s not normal and as many times as I’ve tried to hang, I can’t. I’m always the ‘weak’ one that leaves early (early being 3-4am!!!) I just can’t fiesta for hours on end. I get too tired and the thought of drinking for an extended period of time is of no interest to me.

Add this to the fact that the night normally doesn’t ‘start’ until 2am. I can’t understand it. It’s quite remarkable how these people maintain the partying mentality. I like going out, but when my Spanish friends suggest a night on the town I don’t know whether to cry or get excited. It’s a workout in itself maintaining a certain level of energy for fiesta night. And to make matters worse, the only time during the week I can go out is the evening after a game, thus I’m already exhausted from 30+ minutes on the court. It’s a no win situation, making me feel as though I’m starting to get old…

Experiencing the Spanish nightlife has allowed me to understand why siestas exist in Spain. It’s because they fiesta harder than anyone else. When you don’t get home until 8-10am in the morning (seriously!) you need an afternoon nap in order to survive a normal 24-hour day. (Typically stores in Spain open around 10am and close at 2pm, only to reopen again at 5pm until about 8pm). The thought of staying out all night into the early morning is completely exhausting. This past weekend I made it to 6am (attended a Halloween party in A Coruña – a city 40 minutes from Ferrol) and the next day I was unbelievably exhausted. I don’t see that happening again for a looonnnnnng time!

When in Spain, do as the Spainards do…at least once. That might be the first and last time, but at least you can say you did it!

Basketball Update: We are currently sitting at 2-2 in the league with our 2 losses coming to 2 of the top teams. One of losses should have been a win, but we self-destructed in the 2nd half. Nevertheless, it was a learning experience that hopefully will make us better. I’ve been really happy with my play, but have been extremely frustrated with the Spanish officiating. Through 4 games I have 2 technical fouls - thus drastically cutting my minutes and affecting my stats. I’d be the first to admit I deserved the ‘T’s’ if I did…however, I really didn’t deserve either of them. Both of the disqualifying fouls have come on plays where I’ve been fouled all game inside (never complaining, talking to the officials or making gestures) and finally, getting hammered hard in the 2nd half without a foul call. Both times this has happened I looked at the official and said the word ‘really?’ in a calm voice, turned around and ran back to play defense. The two times I’ve done this I’ve been T’d up. It’s completely ridiculous and very upsetting. The Spanish girls are constantly complaining to the refs during the games, as are other Americans. I don’t say anything and the 2 times I do, I’m done. The most frustrating part is that in my 4 years of Professional basketball, I had never received a technical foul – and now I have 2 through 4 games in Spain! I’m not an angry, aggressive player, but now realize I cannot say ANYTHING no matter how frustrated and unfair the officiating may be.

-BW

Short Shorts, Speedos, Sans Bikini Top…

2010-10-19T09:58:00.011-07:00

Sometimes I can’t believe where my job takes me. Only two games into the season and I found myself on the Canary Islands, gazing out on the brilliant blue of the Atlantic Ocean, warming my pale skin in the hot sun.

I’d heard of the Canary Islands, but never actually thought I’d get the chance to visit and travel the largest of the Spanish archipelago - Tenerife. Once our season schedule was released, I began researching which away games were in cities worth spending time in. As soon as I realized Tenerife was one of them, I immediately got in touch with my coach and club president, requesting to stay an extra day in paradise. A few days later my request was granted and the team booked my flight back to Ferrol a day and a half later. Score!

Of course once we departed for our trip south, I was all business. First and foremost we were there to win a basketball game, not vacation. Once arriving on the island, we checked into our hotel, ate dinner and discussed the schedule for the following day. Facing Aguere was going to be tough, as they are expected to be one of the top teams in the league.

The following morning we were up early for breakfast and morning shoot around. After getting comfortable with the unfamiliar floor and rims, it was back to the hotel for lunch and downtime. It was going to be a physical game. Later that evening, motivated and confident with the scouting report, we quickly jumped out to a 28-11 lead, playing fast and playing together. Then just as quickly, it all fell apart…

Opening the second quarter we started the first 2 minutes on a roll. Scoring 5 points in a little over a minute, Aguere was forced to try something different. Throwing a full court press on us proved to be the solution. Our guards tensed up and were unable to handle the pressure. And just like that, our lead quickly started to disintegrate. It also didn’t help that the forwards could get a whistle while being mauled inside. Frustrated by the lack of calls, I stayed focused, but unfortunately lost my cool a few moments later. Setting a screen on the baseline, a Spanish girl on the opposing team ran by me (not even grazing my jersey) and suddenly threw herself to the ground as if she had been hit by a freight train. Screaming in phantom agony, the ref blew his whistle and issued me an offensive foul with a stern warning of no dirty play. What?! Looking at him incredulously I said in a normal tone “Wow. That’s a terrible call” and ran back on defense. Apparently that was enough for him to give me a technical foul. Are you kidding me!? I had never been given a ‘T’ in my overseas career until now. I didn’t even get to scream and shout for it!

Nevertheless, the combination of turnovers, my 'T' and the fact that my coach decided to sit me for 12 minutes straight after the call helped lead to our demise. Still, at halftime we were only down 9. That proved to be enough, as my team stopped playing for each other and started playing for themselves. There’s nothing that bothers me more than when people play basketball selfishly. It was an unfortunate turn of events. What could have been a big win for us, turned into and ugly game that exposed our biggest weakness – team chemistry and mental toughness on the court.

After a heated exchange of words in the locker room, everyone trudged to the bus malcontent. The atmosphere after losing a game is not enjoyable, especially when teammates refuse to talk to one another. Once back at our hotel, we ate dinner in silence and were told told to meet in the lobby at midnight for departure.

Finishing dinner around 9pm, I suggested we go to the bar down the street. Three of the 4 other pros agreed and we sat down to have a few cervezas…which quickly turned into a few more than that….

After getting some frustrations off our chests and finally calming down somewhat, we started to have a good time. With a bit of liquid courage and a persuasive barkeep, we found ourselves joining a karaoke party downstairs. The rest of the team showed up a bit later and we ended up putting the game (or most of it) behind us as we belted out tunes from Lady Gaga, Shakira and various Spanish artists. Glancing at the clock, it was time for the team to get back to the hotel and catch the bus to the airport. Waving goodbye, I was now on my own.

Not wanting the party to end, I went in search of the hotel’s discothèque. Strolling in the dimly lit hall, I found myself dancing with English vacationers, explaining why I was wearing a hideous mustard colored polo and navy basketball shorts (team issued gear we have to wear when together). Eventually, we wandered out to the pool and chatted under the moonlight. Not wanting to be tired for my only day of exploration the following morning, I said goodnight and headed to bed. I needed to get up early if I wanted to see both the north and south of Tenerife.
Waking a mere 6 hours later, I finished a quick breakfast and waited for the bus to Santa Cruz. Sitting at the bus stop, a car with a good-looking fellow pulled over and motioned for me to come to the door. Giving him a questioning look, he rolled down his window and offered me a ride to the city. Tempted, I decided against the idea, as I was traveling alone. Politely declining with a smile, I sat back down and hoped the bus would arrive soon.

Ten minutes later, I was on my way to Santa Cruz. Being Sunday, there was hardly anyone on the streets. With no particular plan in mind, I quickly found that the capital of the island was a fairly modern city, with very little historic architecture or monuments to gaze upon. Nevertheless, I walked down to the water and came across a large, bizarre shaped building – the Tenerife Auditorium. After snapping pictures of the giant structure, I continued along the boardwalk enjoying the morning sun. Thinking about heading back towards the bus station, I stumbled upon a massive gypsy market. It was close to 10 city blocks of everything and anything you could imagine. All the downtown streets were shut down and people we hawking items like blow dryers, jewelry, cassette tapes, clothes, cigars, washing machines…you name it, they had it. It was complete madness! Browsing my way up and down the streets, I found a couple gifts to tuck away for Christmas. Deciding I had had enough shopping for the day, I stopped for a café con leche in the town square and made my way back to the bus station. I found Santa Cruz a bit overrated. There isn’t much to see. It seems like a business district with very little beach access. I was ready to move on and spend the rest of the day in the South…on the beach and in the sun!

One hour and 15 minutes later I arrived in Playas de las Americas. Starving, I grabbed a quick bite to eat, purchased some sunscreen and made my way to the beach. Walking up and down the boardwalk, I finally decided where I wanted to spend my day. Stripping down to my bathing suit and lathering on sunscreen, I was ready to read my book while soaking up some rays.

Not taking note of my surroundings, I forgot how ‘free’ Europeans are. Sitting up I found myself looking directly at an older man bending over in his tiny speedo. Stifling a laugh, I glanced around a realized almost every man was wearing a speedo (many who shouldn’t have been) and most of the women were topless. Keep in mind, the ones baring the most skin were more often than not the more ‘mature’ individuals. Welcome to Europe folks! Thinking about joining in on trend, I finally decided against it. The skin I had exposed was fair enough and I didn’t want risk getting burned in places more sensitive...

Continuously re-applying sunscreen (should of gone for that SPF 70…ouch!), swimming in salty the ocean to cool off and reading my book made for a fabulous afternoon. I was able to relax, enjoy myself and soak up some much needed vitamin D. After about 5 hours in the sun (30+°C, 90+°F), I gathered my stuff and decided to stroll the boardwalk and find a place for dinner. I was surprised by how much English was being spoken. It seemed most of the tourists were from the UK or Scandinavia. I should have figured that out from the almost translucent skin pigments that had surrounded me all day! Selecting a restaurant right on the water, I ordered halibut in champagne sauce and savored the delicious meal while gazing out on the ocean…

Deciding I had seen what I wanted after a long day, it was back to the bus station to catch my bus. An uneventful hour later, the sun started to set as I was walking down a hill towards my hotel. Seizing the opportunity, I sprinted to the water, got back into my bathing suit and jumped into the ocean as the sky turned a fiery red. It was gorgeous. Climbing onto a rock to admire the breathtaking view, I couldn’t help but wish I was sharing the moment with my closest friends…

-BW

Sidenote: I think it’s worth mentioning that though I had an amazing time in Tenerife, traveling is not quite the same when spending awesome moments alone. The experience is greatly enhanced when you’re sharing it with someone.

Sidenote2: Though I enjoyed the island and found it very beautiful, it doesn’t quite compare to Madeira (Portugal). Madeira is gorgeous and green, whereas Tenerife is desert like. Just my opinion!

Not Your Common Cold

2010-10-04T07:45:00.014-07:00

It’s inevitable. Every season around this time of year I find myself coming down with a sickness; one that’s not easy to cure and can often span for months at a time. There’s no magic pill, thick syrup or doctors order that can keep this virus at bay - however, a busy schedule, positive thinking and an active social life can get me through some of the toughest days.

Homesickness is not an easy battle to fight. It can pop up out of nowhere and ruin a week, day or even month. It’s relentless and ever present. It’s hard to control and unfortunately, can sometimes affect performance in the workplace.

Last week I caught a serious bout of this undesirable disease and am still trying to escape from its grasp. It’s tough being away from the people you love for long periods of time. Though the Internet helps to keep in touch with home, it still doesn’t quite cut it. Four years into my chosen profession and this is the aspect I struggle with most. It never gets easier.

As an extremely social person, I love experiencing new places, meeting new people and having meaningful conversations. I’ve been known to go out with a group of friends, only for them to find me talking about life with some random individual in the corner of a bar. I love people. I like hearing their stories. I thrive off of social situations – which is why Europe can sometimes be a difficult transition. Though I’ve been blessed with enviable circumstances abroad thus far, this season has been somewhat of a difficult adjustment. The language, location, size of city and lack of tourism in Ferrol are obstacles. Of course when living abroad, I’m a guest and am the one who needs to assimilate. However, in my first 3 years I had always managed to find a core group of English speaking individuals to make the experience more enjoyable. I found them through local embassies, universities, on other professional teams in the city (basketball, volleyball, soccer) and even through facebook! These people kept me busy, close to home, in high spirits and helped fulfilled my social hunger pains. For the most part, my homesickness was kept at bay and I was happy. This year, these past ideas have not proved successful. There are no English speaking embassies in the area, the university does not have an exchange program and we don’t have another professional sports team in the city with English speaking imports. Thus, I’m on somewhat of an island. For some players this isn’t a problem, as they can keep themselves occupied in their tiny apartments with TV, the Internet and a book. But for me, that’s torture. I like living in my new city/country. I can’t stay cooped up in an apartment all day, everyday and not explore, experience and enjoy the foreign culture. I want to see what my new environment is all about, while meeting new people. I’ve ventured out in Ferrol numerous times with these ideas in mind, but it’s never as fun when you’re doing it alone.

This is not to say my teammates aren’t nice people – because they are. They have been very friendly, but through no fault of their own, their English is very limited. Most go to school and are busy living their own lives.

Prior to this year I was remarkably lucky to have been paired with import teammates who were outgoing and shared similar interests. In fact, I became very close with all 3 and to this day still keep in touch with each of them. I talk to Lizanne (Finland) monthly and am in constant touch with Casey (Portugal) and Jordan (Luxembourg) - both of which have become very close friends. This year it’s…different. I don’t have a partner in crime. I’m on my own. My American keeps to herself and though my Bosnian teammate is a very nice girl (we meet for coffee daily), she’s European and can speak 6 languages; enabling her to communicate and associate with others around the city. Unfortunately, my French won’t get me quite that far in Spain.

I love where basketball has taken me and the high level I'm playing at this year is a confidence builder. How can I complain when I get paid to travel Europe while playing the sport I love? Nevertheless, as I grow older I'm realizing that basketball is a part of who I am and does not define me. Not having the social interaction I want and need this season has me realizing how important my family and friends are; people I will never take for granted.

Things will get better. They always do. I’m just waiting for the Robin to my Batman to show up…

-BW

Sidenote: First league game Saturday. Can’t wait to lace up the sneakers and play for real!

Lost in Translation

2010-09-27T05:51:00.010-07:00

Another country, another language, another way of life. Each time I cross the Atlantic, I find myself assimilating and integrating to the norms of a new environment. Most of the time I make the transition quite smoothly, however so far, this season has proved to be a bit of a challenge.

Ferrol is a small city with a non-existent tourism industry, thus finding people who speak English hasn’t been an easy task. Aside from my American and Bosnian teammates, my coaches, Spanish teammates and people around the organization speak little to no English. Add this to the fact that I have almost zero Spanish vocabulary, makes conversing somewhat difficult.

That being said, I’ve managed to conquer essential phrases such as “quiero un café con leche por favor” (I’d like a coffee with milk please) and “donde esta el cuarto de baño?” (where’s the bathroom?), in addition to simple greetings, thank you’s and good byes. But aside from that, I’m completely lost. I do feel as though I’m beginning to understand when spoken to, but responding is a completely different beast. At times I’ve found myself starting out in Spanish, only to complete a question or sentence in French. This has earned me some odd looks and shakes of the head. I’m learning, albeit slowly. I never realized how scary it is trying to speak a foreign language. It’s frustrating not being able to communicate the way I want to.

This barrier always seems to lead to interesting situations. Almost everyday we have 3 practices. Ninety percent of the time they follow the same routine. One evening we (the two English speakers) were told in broken English that we needed only running shoes for morning conditioning. Thus, the following morning Jhasmin and I arrived at the gym in our sneakers, workout gear and nothing else. Big mistake. Apparently we were having a full-fledged basketball scrimmage. Here I was in cross trainers without ankle braces or my mouth guard, expected to battle against two 6’4 post players. Nervous about getting hit in the face or rolling an ankle, I decided I was going to cruise and take it easy. Being as competitive as I am, that didn’t last long and I thankfully survived the practice injury free (aside from a few bruises). That day I learned a valuable lesson – to always pack everything and anything I might need for conditioning, weights or full practice in my gym bag each day. You can never be too prepared!

Interestingly enough, being a non-native Spanish speaker seems to provide entertainment to those around me. The other day during practice I ran down the court and yelled out one of our plays, which I thought was called “coño.” All of a sudden everyone stopped. My teammates burst out laughing and my two male coaches turned red. Confused, my point guard eventually explained what I had just said - now it was my turn to turn red! Apparently the play is actually called “puño,” however when pronounced, sounds very similar to the first. I’ll let you figure out the first word, but let you know the second means “fist” and is definitely not what I said when I was running down the court…

Though miscommunications can be amusing, they can also be costly. Last week I decided I needed a haircut. I always wear my hair long, but it had reached the point where it was proving to be somewhat unruly and needed a trim. By trim, I meant taking 2 inches off – no more. I described what I wanted to a teammate and made sure she thoroughly explained it to the hair stylist, who did not speak English. Confident we had an understanding, my teammate left and I sat down in the chair. Watching her every move, the cut started out right and I was able to relax. Glancing up from my magazine a few minutes later, my heart dropped. She had taken off close to 5 inches and layered the hair short – real short. Used to the feeling of hair resting on my shoulders, I now found the longest pieces barely making contact with my t-shirt. Upset and unsure of what to do, I told her to her stop. Somehow, I managed to communicate to not to go any shorter, but to make it all one length. Sweating under the hair apron, I continually reminded myself that my hair would grow back. Thankfully my job requires me to wear a ponytail 90% of the time, but as I found out later that day, putting it all up with one elastic band has proved to be difficult. If there is one word of advice I can offer, it’s this: NEVER get your hair cut in Europe…

Though language barriers can be difficult, I've decided to be proactive. Last week I did some research and signed up for Spanish lessons at the local university. I start today! It will be interesting trying to learn Spanish from someone who speaks no English, but is worth a shot. Wish me luck!

-BW aka Bringo (Bringo is the nickname my Spanish teammates have decided for me. Bre + gringo = Bringo...)

Sidenote: Press play to watch highlights of our 7 point ‘friendly’ loss to Santiago de Compostela. I’m number 11 blue and score 6 points in the clip.

Santiago de Compostela

2010-09-20T06:29:00.014-07:00

Three weeks in and 2 ‘friendly’ games under my belt, I’m finally starting to acclimate to my new life in Spain. Last Saturday we beat a league rival quite handily, but this weekend let a closely contested match get away from us. A turnover plagued, defensively soft second half sealed our fate, as we lost on the road to Pio XII by 7 points.

I had a solid game, but couldn’t figure out why I spent most of the second quarter on the bench. Shooting a high percentage from the floor with 0 fouls, I was frustrated with not being on the court. Nevertheless, after halftime I played the majority of the final two quarters and put up respectable numbers (14pts, 7rbs, 2 blks, 6/10FG, 2/2 FT) against the preseason league favorites.

After the final horn had sounded, the team and I headed to the locker room for our post game chat and shower. Looking to the stands, I signaled to fellow Vancouverite Levon Kendall, letting him know I'd be a minute. Conveniently, Levon plays in Santiago de Compostela for Obradoiro C.A.B. of LEB Gold. With permission from the team, I was allowed to stay in the city as long as I found my way back to Ferrol for practice Monday night. This would be my first excursion outside of Ferrol and I was excited to spend it with a friend.

Saying goodbye to the team, we hopped into Levon’s Prius and departed the gym. After a tour of his apartment and taking a few minutes to freshen up, we decided to head to Santiago's Old Town for dinner and late night tapas. This was an experience in itself. The Spanish social scene is much different than that of North America. People go out to dinner late...10pm kind of late. Strolling the narrow cobblestone streets, we eventually selected a cute restaurant in the center of town. Taking advantage of the mild evening, we sat outside and people watched while enjoying a delightful seafood dinner. Being adventurous, the both of us sampled a signature Galician dish - Pulpo a la Gallega. It was…interesting. The texture of octopus is definitely not a favorite...

Wrapping up our meal with a café con leche around 11:30pm, it was on to Levon’s teammates’ apartment. After introductions all round, we watched college football on ESPN while prepping for an evening out. Apparently midnight was too early to arrive at the popular bars, thus we waited until after 1am before checking out the city’s nightlife. Enjoying the company, we shared various overseas stories and before I knew it, it was time to make a move.

Back in Old Town, the fellas knew their way around, navigating the narrow maze of streets to a busy bar in the basement of an old building. Upon our arrival, everyone literally stopped and stared at us. With the two guys having to duck on entrance (6’8” and 6’10”) and myself following at 6’1”, the short Spaniards weren’t sure how to react. Once everyone had a chance to look us over, they went back to their drinks and previous conversations. Aside from being scrutinized at times, I really enjoyed the bar. It had good music, cheap drinks and a great atmosphere. At one point in the evening a girl came up to me and bluntly stated, “you’re not from here.” Hmmm...thanks for pointing that out. I don’t think she meant to be rude, but she didn't understand why we were all so tall. After satisfying her curiosity, I was back on the dance floor doing what I do best. Slowly the bar crowd began to dissipate and it was time to move to the next place…at 3am. Ugh!

Once again following the guys down narrow alleyways and side streets, we arrived at an underground salsa club. It was awesome! I spent most of my time swaying to the music while watching various young couples dance at a frenetic pace. They were amazing! Salsa dancing looks tough - I’m not sure if it’s something I’ll be able to master before leaving Spain.

With the 3 of us starting to fade, we decided to call it a night around 4am and started the trek back to Levon’s apartment. Traversing the uneven cobblestones street, I suddenly realized my phone was ringing. Confused as to who would be calling me at this ungodly hour, I was surprised to find it was my good friend Lindsey (who also is Levon's friend) calling post-Husky football game. It was great hearing a voice from home and it topped off a successful evening.

Finally back at Levon’s flat, I set my alarm for 11am. Knowing I’d be tired in the morning, I mentally prepared myself. I would not allow myself to sleep away the day. While in Santiago, I wanted to wander and experience the historic town before having to depart. Waking up less than 6 hours later, I quietly crept out of the apartment and left Levon a note. We’d meet later in the afternoon for lunch.

Pulling out my journal, I found my bearings a started the 15 minute walk to downtown Santiago (spending about 2km on the actual Camino de Santiago). Navigating the narrow streets, I found Rua do Franco (main street) and started to wander up and down the different roads, snapping photos and sampling baked goods. Following St. James ‘hikers’ and bikers down one particular street, I was taken aback when the confined alley suddenly opened up into Praza do Obradoiro, home of Santiago de Compostela’s massive cathedral. To say this monument is impressive is an understatement. I’d say it’s only second to the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. The thing is enormous and is apparently one of the most impressive cathedrals in all of Europe. After witnessing it, I have no doubt that's true.

Enjoying the view, I sat down at a nearby café for a café con leche and worked on my tan while gazing up at the impressive cathedral. After a short rest for my complaining feet, I called Levon. We decided to rendez-vous on Rua do Franco for a late lunch. Enjoying another great meal in the sun (30°C, 85°F) while people wandered around us, we eventually joined the masses and strolled the historic city, eventually making our way back to the cathedral’s main square. Once again impressed by it’s size, we snapped photos, chatted with some Aussies and inquired about cathedral tours. Unfortunately they were booked for the day – so it's the first thing I plan to do upon my return. Making our way down a quiet street, we walked around a park that provided stunning views of the cathedral from an incline. Tired from a late night and long day, I glanced at my watch. It was time to head to the bus station.

Saying our goodbyes, Levon and I briefly chatted about future visits. I’ll definitely be returning to Santiago soon and recommend it to anyone if ever visiting Northern Spain. Only a 1 hour bus ride from Ferrol, it’s a cheap and easy commute. I have a feeling I'll know the city very well before I returning home to Vancouver at the end of the season.

Back to work,

-BW

3-a-Days Keep the Doctor Away?

2010-09-09T15:55:00.008-07:00

Estoy muy consada!

After 3 flights (Vancouver to Montreal, Montreal to Paris, Paris to Vigo), a 2-hour car ride (Vigo to Ferrol) and a combined 18 hours of traveling, I had finally arrived in Ferrol, Spain. Tired, jetlagged and hungry, I was dropped off at my new home by the club’s President – who reminded me to be ready for evening practice. After 3 seasons abroad, this came as no surprise. As with most European teams, it’s a norm. Despite the fact that I had no idea what day it was and my mind was in a complete jumble – I was expected to lace up my basketball shoes and show Ferrol that I was worth the money they’re paying me.

Arriving at the gym with head coach Nacho (great name right?), I was quickly introduced to my new teammates. This alone was quite exciting, as I learned my team employs 5 full time professionals. Add that to the fact that I’m not the tallest player (3rd tallest), I’ll finally be able to play my natural position at small forward this year. Once I had tried and failed miserably pronouncing all my new teammates names, it was right into a long practice full of unfamiliar drills. My only focus that evening was getting my legs underneath me and working up a sweat. Preparing myself mentally enabled me to make the transition quite smoothly.

The following morning however, was a different story. Not only did I have to get up early, but I was also expected to effortlessly join our demanding 3-a-day training routine. Not sleeping well the night before and with my body still in a different time zone, I woke up fatigued with a cloudy head. I managed to survive the day, only to wake up and do it again and again...Every morning we condition and shoot, afternoons we lift or condition (again!) and in the evenings we have a 2-hour practice session. It’s insane.

For the last 3 seasons abroad, I’ve been a late signee and have managed to avoid all preseason training. I’d land in my new country, practice a few times and jump right into games. I’ve never had to endure the god-awful preseason filled with excessive amounts of conditioning and weight lifting. This year however, there was no way out of it. As an early signee in a very good league, it was expected I arrive September 1st and be ready to go. Though conditioning has been tough, I came in great shape and am constantly proving to be best on the team in this area. It’s always rewarding as a ‘big girl’ (post player) to beat the little guards (and other pros) in fitness drills. I feel really good about my conditioning level right now. The only thing I’m worried about is the weight I’m losing (which normally wouldn’t be a problem…) however, my normal playing weight is around 170 lbs, but, with the extreme humidity and amount of sweat I lose during practices, I’m down to 165lbs. This affects my strength inside. Each session I lose close to 2 lbs in sweat - it’s gross! I’m conscious to rehydrate and literally have to force myself to drink 2+ liters of water during/after each session. Understand I’m not complaining about the hot, sunny September weather (mid 20°C [70-80°F]), but the humidity is killing me!

This preseason has been rough and will likely last until the end of the month. Our first official game is October 9th and I’m literally counting down the days. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced 3-a-days, everyday. As a result, my body is extremely sore and I’m exhausted. Add all this to the fact that I’m still not sleeping well makes for an unfortunate combination. But I’m surviving and oddly enjoying every minute of it...

Since, I’ve been completely inundated with basketball, I’ve had very little free time to go out and explore my new city. In fact, in the free time that I’ve had, all I’ve wanted to do is eat and sleep…which is definitely not like me. However, last weekend we were finally rewarded with a Sunday off. Gathering all my remaining energy, I rallied and ventured out of my apartment to see what Ferrol had to offer. Heading towards the water, I found that most of the coast is blanketed by a massive naval base – which made getting to the Atlantic more difficult than originally anticipated. After walking beside the huge walls for a good mile or so, it finally opened up into a marina and boardwalk. The area is very pretty, lined with nice restaurants, palm trees and people milling about. Taking some pictures and noting the names of streets I wanted to explore at another time, I took a different route home and found myself walking down the main shopping street. Being a Sunday, everything was closed. So I took time to window shop while enjoying the sun. Strangely, I was somewhat uncomfortable as there wasn’t a human in sight for a good 45 minutes. This was unnerving and really weird. Most European cities close down to an extent on Sunday – but Spain takes it to a whole new level. Aside from the marina, all of the city was desolate…I felt like I was Will Smith in I am Legend. It was creepy.

As I head into my 2nd full week in Ferrol, I’m finally starting to feel comfortable. Despite the fact I have no Spanish language background, I feel as though I’m starting to pick up words and phrases quite quickly. I understand most of what is being said to me, but the pronunciation and rolling of the r’s is proving difficult. I really like my teammates, coaches and the organization has been very professional so far. Aside from living in an apartment older than I had hoped and a noisy neighbor living above me, I have no complaints. My team looks strong and I think we could have a very good season. I have no idea what to expect from this competitive league, but this is definitely the strongest European team I’ve played on so far.

With a day off this weekend and first ‘friendly’ match Monday, I’ll be sure to have something more interesting to share next week.

Hasta luego,

-BW

Viva la España!

2010-08-31T10:28:00.004-07:00

Tomorrow I embark on my 4th professional basketball season in Europe. It has been an amazing summer and I don't quite want it to end. Though I will miss my friends and family deeply, this is the path I've chosen and I'm ready for the new adventure to begin.

This year i will be taking my hard work, hustle and rebounding skills to Ferrol, Spain. I'll be suiting up and playing for LF2 Universitario de Ferrol. Spain is one of the best basketball leagues in the world, a league I've been trying to break into since I started playing. My time has arrived and I'm excited to challenge myself in this competitive league.

With the beginning of another new season, comes the re-activation of Bre Dub's Blog. I hope you'll come visit weekly as I update readers with new posts on my life, lessons and experiences in España.

El que la sigue, la consigue,

-BW

“We’ve been waiting 364 days for this…”

2010-08-22T21:27:00.035-07:00

There are 3 days in a calendar year I get absurdly excited about. Christmas, Thanksgiving and…Hoopfest. Yes, you read that correctly. I look forward to playing in Hoopfest more than I look forward to celebrating my birthday, dressing up for Halloween, tailgating Husky Football or ringing in New Years. I can’t quite explain my ridiculous passion for this annual event, other than it’s an addiction I must feed once a year.

My love affair with Hoopfest began 4 years ago and only grows stronger with each passing summer. This tournament not only allows me to continue playing basketball at a very high level, but is also a great way to spend a weekend with my closest friends. Though the roster has been tweaked over the years, the past 2 summers we’ve definitely found the winning combination. TBA (“To Be Announced” – witty right?) plays hard, plays to win and always has fun. Our roster is composed of 4 former collegiate players who all have spent at least one year playing professionally abroad. Who are these talented women you ask? Well, without further adieu, let me introduce you to team TBA…

Casey Nash – 6’1”, Stayton, OR, Oregon State ’07. The oh so smooth lethal lefty. You think she’s right handed, but nope…she’s taking you left all day. Lay up drill!

Amy Taylor – 5’9”, Shoreline, WA, Seattle Pacific ’05. TBA’s hardnosed 3-point specialist will cross you up in a second if you try to take away her range.

Lindsey Wilson – 5’9”, Seattle, WA, Iowa State ’03. Our fearless leader with a ridiculously dangerous pull up jumper. Period.

And me. Breanne Watson – 6’1”, Richmond, B.C., Washington ’07. I’m here to protect the paint and tirelessly crash the boards…REBOUND! ☺

Though somewhat biased, I really do believe our team has the perfect combination of skill, determination and desire. The 4 of us compliment each other on (and off) the court; we know our roles and don’t stray from them. This is a huge reason why we have been so successful as a group. No one is worried about stats or who takes the last shot. We all know each other’s strengths and play to them. There’s nothing quite like playing with people who have the same goal and don’t care about individual performance. It sounds cliché, but it's the truth. I’ve traveled the world and have played in some pretty big time, important games. But hooping with TBA is the most fun I’ve had on a basketball court. It’s the most cohesive, passionate, caring group I’ve ever played with. These girls are some of the best teammates I’ve ever had and I freakin’ love them!

So, imagine my excitement when June 26, 2010 finally rolled around. I had been waiting all year for exactly this moment - the TBA reunion! After sharing countless hugs and smiles all round after the rendez-vous in Seattle, the girls and I jumped in Lindsey’s car and were off. It was time to begin the 5-hour road trip to Spokane. Though a bit of a drive, the time spent in the car is a huge part of the Hoopfest experience. Since we all live in different parts of the Northwest, we don’t get to see each other as often as we’d like. This time on the road allows us to catch up on each other’s lives, update on recent happenings and reminisce great memories. That being said, I believe the best part of the road trip this year may have been the music. Of course everyone has a favorite singer/band/genre they want to listen to during the trek across I-90, but there’s nothing quite like listening to a teammate sing/rap a pre-recorded song about our team. Ladies and gentlemen, let me once again introduce you to our amazingly talented guard Amy Taylor. Not only does she save lives (she’s a nurse), but she’ll hit a jumper in your eye then sing about it. Or rap. The girl is unbelievably gifted! Needless to say, we popped in the CD anticipating Amy’s Hoopfest song debut – one that may or may not have stayed on repeat all weekend…

Click here to listen to Amy T’s first Hoopfest single! How awesome is that???

Arriving in Spokane with Amy’s rap committed to memory, we were off to find the Couch family residence. Who are the Couch’s? Well, they are some seriously wonderful people that’s who! Last summer at Hoopfest we had quite a following. People say it was our impressive play and engaging personalities that led to our popularity, however, I’m convinced it was the lime green jersey’s I designed…anyway, during the 2009 weekend we met a super friendly family with two young daughters. They came to watch most of our games and cheered us on faithfully. After winning our bracket in the scorching Saturday sun, they invited us to a neighborhood BBQ. Not only did we enjoy great food, but we met some great people, making for a memorable night. A few weeks after Hoopfest, the Couch family contacted Lindsey and extended an invite to us to stay at their house for Hoopfest 2010. Humbled by the offer, we accepted and thus spent our 2010 weekend with this kind family. And wow, what a family they are. I’ve never met such thoughtful, generous, friendly people. Not only did they open up their home, but they had a room prepared for the each of us and dinner waiting on the table upon our arrival. Wow! I know I speak for the team when I say we can’t even express our gratitude for EVERYTHING they did for us all weekend. The Couch's really made us feel welcome and were a part of the formula that led to the Championship!

For readers unfamiliar with Hoopfest, here are a few quick facts: Hoopfest is the biggest 3 on 3 tournament in the world and this year, featured 6,990 teams, 27,465 players and 3,000+ volunteers. The Women’s Elite Division had 20 teams featuring former NCAA standouts like Jill Noe, Jillian Harmon, Sheila Lambert, Heather Bowman, Vivian Frieson, etc. It is a very competitive division full of emotion and physicality. There’s no mercy on the court as every point counts.

Decked out in our Nike sponsored gear and bright homemade jerseys (a tradition that will forever continue) we immediately made our mark. As soon as we took the pavement, TBA was all business. Our first game would be one of the most difficult of the tournament, as we matched up against Pure Advantage, a team headlined by former Arizona Sun Devil Jill Noe and Stanford Cardinal Jillian Harmon. The first game is always tough and the fact that we were facing some serious ballers made it a battle. However, we managed to get our first ‘W’ of 2010 and continued to ride the wave by winning our second game over a scrappy Northwest Nazarene team. Once taking care of business, the girls and I spent the rest of the afternoon cheering on friends and enjoying the sun. Later that evening it was off to a bbq followed by a short pub-crawl downtown Spokane.

With a fairly tame evening behind us, the following morning we were up bright and early for Championship Sunday. Shaking the sleep out of our eyes for the 8am tip, we made quick work of Hot Mess Crew – who's name is self-explanatory. Win under our belt, it was on to the semi-finals where we once again found ourselves facing Jill Noe and her Pure Advantage teammates. By losing their first game to us on Saturday, they were regulated to the losers bracket. Battling the heat and playing an excessive amount of games, PA was out for revenge. Seeing the thought of an upset in their eyes, TBA was in no joking mood. We were sharp, focused and stepped on the court with only one thing in mind. It worked and just like that we were punching our ticket to the Women’s Elite Division Finals for the 3rd time in 4 years.

Hours later, with the sun at it’s peak, TBA was on Nike Center Court for the division finals. After positive team talk and opponent strategy, we stepped on the court to face Acme Concrete Paving (Montana Alumi Hollie Tyler, Julie Deming, Laura Valley and Corrie Villegas) – the same team we lost to in the championship final last year. I’m not one to make excuses, but last summer we literally handed them the trophy. Going on a complete tear all weekend, we choked in the final. We couldn’t hit a shot and missed 8 free throws in a game to 20 (1’s and 2’s). It killed us. Even with all the mistakes we made, we almost won. TBA was up 17-15 before eventually falling 20-17.

This year we were determined not to let history repeat itself. With a comfortable lead most of the game, we hit a plateau at 14 and it was déjà-vu all over again. Making our FTs at an 80% clip all weekend, we went 0-for-7 in the final and almost gave away the game. Thankfully, our stellar defense and hustle plays saved us took us to the promised land. Driving from the left side on game point, Lindsey stopped on a dime, pulled up and hit her signature jumper. And guesssss what? TBA had captured the 2010 Hoopfest crown! Ballin’!

Click here to listen to Amy T’s second Hoopfest single, summarizing our Championship run.
Click here and here for TV highlights of our Hoopfest Championship Final.

Until next summer, I’m counting down the days…

-BW

Sidenote: It’s worth mentioning that TBA also took their talents to Los Angeles for the Nike 3 on 3 tournament, L.A. Live at Staples Center. Without much difficulty, we were able to bring home another title. It was a great weekend spent with old and new friends alike. Ironically, Stacey Dales, my childhood basketball hero (from Ontario, played for Oklahoma and in the WNBA) currently lives in LA and is an anchor and host for the NFL Network. She also happens to be friends with Lindsey. Imagine my surprise when Linds picked Amy and I up in Stacey Dales' car with Stacey in it. I couldn’t believe it! After getting over my initial shock of meeting her by staying mute for almost 10 minutes (those of you who know me know that I am never at a loss for words ☺), I finally relaxed and started to socialize over lunch. Stacey is super cool and offered me some great perspectives on life and a career in the media field. There’s nothing like meeting someone you idolize and realizing how down to earth and normal they are. She was a wealth of information and someone I am thankful I was able to connect with.

Sidenote 2: In addition to the two previous links provided for Amy's songs, click here and here to listen to the final 2 tracks of the TBA album - written about our weekend in Los Angeles for L.A. Live!

On to the Next One…

2010-08-14T21:18:00.018-07:00

Wow, this post is LONG overdue. I apologize for my tardiness. Originally I had intended to publish my last entry about Luxembourg once I arrived on Canadian soil. However, this did not happen. As soon as I landed in Vancouver, I was immediately sidetracked and delightfully overwhelmed with catching up with family and friends. A lot has happened in my life since I departed Lux. It’s been a busy, eventful summer full of sun, fun, travel and basketball – and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Bre Dub’s Blog has been inactive for much too long and its resurrection begins now…

So without further delay, below you’ll find the annual list of Pros and Cons for my 3rd season playing abroad in Luxembourg…

PROS:

• Travel – Lux is essentially in the middle of Europe and was a perfect place to travel out of. With so much free time, I was able to visit most of Western Europe and enjoy the culture and values of new cities and countries every other week. It was awesome.
• Pastries – everywhere you turn in Europe, there’s a bakery filled with fresh baked goods. The smell, texture, taste…you can’t walk by without buying one…or two…
• Champagne – I mean Crémant…it’s not just for celebration anymore. In Luxembourg this is a drink of choice, just like sipping on wine or beer.
• Bercherovka – Slovakian liquor shared amongst close friends, almost always leading to a fun filled night. Committee!!!
• Hummel Burger – best burger in Lux, or dare I say Europe??? Extra andalouse please!!!
• Andalouse – period.
• Raclette – cousin of the fondue. A fabulous melted cheese, family style dish enjoyed amongst friends. Very tasty and a great way to bring people together.
• Clausen – one of the coolest nightlife areas I’ve ever experienced. The atmosphere is amazing and I always had a great time whenever out in this downtown area of Lux.
• Remich – beautiful wine country region in Luxembourg, which sits on the Moselle River.
• Boating on the Moselle – no better way to spend a beautiful day with good friends. Great memories.
• Dudelange morning shooting – perfect way to get some shots up while socializing with friends. Shoot, hang, grab lunch, repeat.
• B Team Ballers – our men’s 1st division team was full of great guys. But the 2nd team were my boys! Every time I hung out with these fellas it always led to an eventful night. Thursdays aren’t the same without you! Miss you all! (Marc, Yann, Gerard, Edmond…etc)
• Concerts – big names in small venues. Affordable tickets and a great atmosphere. I was lucky enough to see Rihanna, Pink and Timbaland in close quarters.
• Handball – an extremely physical sport that I gained respect for and became a fan of. Allez Red Boys!
• Visitors – the most that have come visit in a season yet! Mom, Auntie Karen, Lindsey, Kyle, Masumi and friends. Unforgettable weekends.
• Esch bar – by far, the best bar in Lux! I became very close with the Slovakian bartenders and often found myself spending the night on a bar stool just to spend time with them. Esch bar was where the dance party was always on! Great food, great drinks and a fabulous environment. Never a dull moment with Otto and Dana.
• Road trips – anywhere and everywhere within driving distance. Jordan and I took trips to Belgium, France, Germany and the Netherlands. Ke$ha kept us company and essentially cemented our friendship.
• The people – Gaelle and Gilles, Michelle and Edmond, Marc and Tanja, Mae and Peter, Otto and Dana, Marc, Yann, Gerard…the list goes on. I can’t even express how thankful I am to have had these people in my life. They are good friends and wonderful people that made my experience in Luxembourg. I have never felt so welcome in a country. I miss you all dearly. ♥
• Mon petit frère Ben – my little brother from another mother. Ben and I became extremely close during my time in Lux. Though only 10 years old, I really do consider him my friend. I attended his games and he mine. Though we didn’t share a same language, we were still always able to communicate and enjoy each others company. I love him and miss him SO much!
• Jordan – I don’t even know where to begin on this one. So I’ll keep it short. I wouldn’t have survived Luxembourg without my fellow party girl. Even as a rival import player from a neighboring town, Jordan and I became fast friends. The two of us straight up left our mark on Lux. I love you J-woww. Vegas was sick…and it’s just the beginning! Miss you my friend!

CONS:

• Competition level – as a competitive basketball player, each year I have hopes of moving up to a more competitive and challenging league. Though Lux had its moments, it was not the strongest league I’ve played in.
• Only import – most European teams employ 2 or 3 import players (North Americans) every year. However, in Lux you’re only allowed one. This was a difficult adjustment. It’s tough going through the ups and downs of a season in a foreign country alone. Especially when you have no one to bounce frustrations off of.
• Losing the finals. Twice – self-explanatory. We lost the Cup Finals and League Finals to the same team. It’s never fun losing, especially a title game.
• Extended season – this year was the longest time I had spent abroad. I didn’t get home until June 13th! Most European professionals arrive home at the end of March/April – thus the last 2 months were a real mental and physical grind.
• Computer crash – when you’re abroad, your laptop is your link to home. My computer decided flame out with 2 months remaining in the season. Talk about feeling lost and disconnected...
• Expensive – us North Americans used to joke that it cost money to walk on the sidewalk in Luxembourg. The country is very affluent, thus the standard of living was quite high. However, it was a very nice place to live.
• Injuries – this year I experienced the most injuries I’ve ever had in one season. I think it was a combination of playing 40 minutes every game and the length of schedule. I received stitches under my eye, sprained my right ankle 3 times and sprained my MCL. I’m back at 100%, but physically, my body just broke down.

I’m so thankful for the memorable 8 months I spent in Luxembourg. I will always have fond memories of this unique, welcoming country that I will keep with me for the rest of my life.

Lux Life 2010!

-BW

Sidenote: Check back in the next couple days for an update on summer hoops and the championships my best friends and I won this summer!

Revolving Doors

2010-06-04T08:36:00.011-07:00

As each season comes to a close, I inevitably reflect upon those who have passed through my life during that time. Though everyone has experienced the highs of meeting a new friend and lows of losing touch with an old pal – my current lifestyle as a professional athlete makes this turnover much higher.

For the past 7 years, I haven’t really had a ‘home base.’ Of course Vancouver will always be home, but each offseason I find myself spending more and more time in Seattle and traveling the U.S. to catch up with good friends. It’s tough, as most of my best friends live south of the border – in a country that makes it very difficult for me to work there legally.

Friendships are extremely important to me. I love meeting new people and developing relationships with those I find interesting and fun to be around. I think the most difficult thing about living abroad - or even living in Vancouver, is not being able to spend enough quality time with those I hold closest to me. As each year passes and friends start to dive into their respected careers, relocate to different cities or start thinking about marriage, it’s a reality check. I’m reminded that I no longer live in the comfortable college bubble - the place where everyone promises to live in the same city and continue to be best friends after graduation. Looking back, I can’t believe how naïve we were – but we had real hope that these plans would become reality.

Though I’m fortunate many of my close pals live a short 2.5 hour drive down the I-5, I miss them. What’s especially tough is not seeing those that now live in New York, Las Vegas, Chicago, Australia and Argentina. I’m lucky if I get to visit them once a year, as chatting over skype is not nearly the same as meeting up for coffee or catching up over lunch. I of course also make things complicated when spending 8 months of the year in Europe, but we all have to adjust, making new friends along the way. The most interesting thing about being so far from home is that you really find out who those closest to you are – they’re the ones who make the effort to stay in contact and check in to see how you’re doing…

Nevertheless, this is the lifestyle I’ve chosen to live right now. Even though it’s difficult staying in touch with those at ‘home’ it’s just as difficult developing relationships with the people I meet abroad. It’s like there’s an expiration date on our friendship. Going into it, we both know it’ll likely last 8 months, then slowly dissipate once I return home. Of course when its time to say goodbye, there’s always the promise to keep in touch and meet up in the near future. But frankly, the chances of this happening are slim to none. Saying so is much easier than doing so. For example, the people I was very close with in Portugal last season, I now rarely speak to. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that we’ve gone our separate ways and are living our lives in different parts of North America. Likewise, I hear very little (aside from 1 person) from those I spent time with in Finland and Sweden. As time passes, sadly, some friendships meet their end.

I’m no relationship expert, but it takes two people to keep one alive. Whether through text messages, phone calls, emails, planned rendez-vous, etc – both people have to make the effort. I consider myself a good friend, so when I lose touch with someone I was once close with, it sucks. Yet, I understand this is the circle of life (haha). Friendships come and go and you realize that the strongest ones are the ones that weather the storm and never waver.

Which brings us to goodbyes. Goodbyes are never fun, especially when saying them to the people who have left a mark on your life. I must admit, I’m an emotional person and though I’m ecstatic to be flying home to Vancouver Tuesday, I’m saddened to say goodbye to those who made my time in Luxembourg memorable. With tear ducts on the verge of overflowing as I finish up this post – here’s to “see you soon” and not “goodbye.”

Thank you to everyone in Luxembourg who has been so welcoming and kept me busy off the basketball court. Forever in my heart...

LUX LIFE!
-BW

Basketball Update: Last weekend my team lost the opening game of the league finals to Musel Pikes. We played a turnover prone, uninspired first half that put us in a huge hole going into halftime. Though down 20 at one point, we’re able to close the gap to 10 points with 5 minutes left. However, that would be the closest we would get. Unfortunately I sprained my right ankle for the 3rd time this season in the last 3 minutes of the game. I’ve been off it all week, but it’s still swollen and sore. Nevertheless, I have to suck it up, as game 2 is tomorrow – win or go home. Game 3, if need be is Sunday the 6th. Wish us luck!

Sidenote: Visit next week for my annual end of the year pros/cons post about my 3rd season overseas!

Mon Amour

2010-05-25T13:25:00.015-07:00

Paris, the city of love. Though only a 2-hour train ride from Luxembourg, I managed to visit Athens, Berlin, Munich, Dublin, Belfast, Brussels, Brugge and Amsterdam before finally finding my way to the French capital. Paris has always been the one city on my list that had strict criteria to fill before becoming a realistic destination. I had decided I would not visit alone, I would wait for good weather and I would spend a minimum of 2 full days on my adventure. The reasons? I didn't want to feel rushed and I really wanted to enjoy the city, sights and people at my own pace.

Fortunately, the trip filled every expectation - and then some. With a bit of luck on my side, I saw Paris exactly I had always imagined it...

With my 3rd season abroad coming to a close, I’ve had numerous friends and acquaintances spend a weekend on the couch, regardless of the country I was residing in at the time. Yet none of my family members have ever been able to visit since I’ve located to Europe. No matter how many times trips and travel plans had been discussed, they’d always fall through at the last instant, or completely conflict with ideal dates. This year however, the streak was broken – twice. After months of brainstorming, negotiating, schedule swapping, itinerary planning and granted vacation days, my mother was finally able to work out a visit. I couldn’t of been more excited after receiving her confirmation email. As a bonus, close family friend ‘Auntie’ Karen would be traveling with mom – the more the merrier! Wanting to get the most out of the 10 days with family, I put on my event planner hat and went to work. Taking my basketball schedule into account, I managed to create a busy itinerary filled with travel, sightseeing and good food.

With the flights booked and schedule dates landing perfectly during a small break in my season, I couldn’t believe how easily things were coming together...almost too easy....Just when I thought it would be smooth sailing until their arrival, Eyjafjallajokull (try saying that 5 times fast!) decided to erupt and put all travel plans in jeopardy. With a non-refundable trip for 3 booked to Paris, not only was I going to miss seeing my family, but I'd be out 700 Euros! Determined to will my mom's plane to Luxembourg, I spent every free moment watching the BBC and scouring the Internet for any and every article relating to Iceland, volcanoes and air travel. With news of stranded travellers and cancelled flights, things were not looking good. The day before mom was to fly out, flights were still grounded.

The next morning I woke up miserable. Nevertheless, I continued my daily routine and turned on BBC. Surprisingly, they were reporting that Schiphol had declared itself 'open' and that the majority of KLM flights were scheduled for departure and arrival. Feeling a tiny bit of hope, I jumped online, typed in mom's KLM confirmation number and saw her trip was still planned. With fingers and toes crossed all day, I was on pins and needles until the following morning (the 9 hour time difference had the plane departing at 4am my time) when I found the plane did in fact take off! Their flight to Amsterdam went off without a hitch, as did the connecting flight to Lux. Both mom and Auntie Karen arrived on time - I couldn’t have been happier!

Spending time with my mom in Lux was awesome. She's my best friend and I missed just being around her. During their stay, my mom and aunt were able to watch us play 2 games (one being the Cup Final!), visit Brussels, Belgium, Trier, Germany, Remich and Luxembourg City, while also getting to know my friends in Lux. To top it all off, we were able to spend 2.5 days in Paris, France. It was a busy, eventful week and a half, which was exactly what I needed to give me that extra push through to the end of the season.

I don't even know where to begin in describing my time in Paris. I've been fortunate enough to have travelled quite extensively in the past 5 years and of all the countries and cities I have been able to visit around the world, Paris is by far my favorite. It's hard to describe what exactly it is about this city that makes it so wonderful. Not only did we have amazing weather (25°C/77°F), but we managed to see all sites we had planned on and were able to enjoy the city without feeling rushed. It was fabulous. I don't know where the stereotype of Parisians being rude comes from, as everyone I encountered was quite friendly (perhaps it was because they felt sorry for me when I butchered their beautiful language while asking questions), but they were nothing but helpful. If I could recommend any place in the world to visit, it would be Paris in the spring. I don't know if I would have enjoyed it as much if it were rainy and cold, but I will always speak highly of the the city and can't wait to go back...

Which is what I did...one week later! Earlier I mentioned that my streak of family members visiting me abroad was broken twice, that's because after hearing how fabulous our trip was going in Lux (before we had even visited Paris) my brother booked a flight to come after my mom's departure! Determined he would have an awesome first experience in Europe, I once again moved into planning mode. Not only did Kyle have a great time in Lux (Rihanna concert, touring Lux City, wine tasting in Remich, dinners with friends, experiencing the European nightlife and seeing me play), I managed to get us tickets to the Euroleague men's basketball final in Paris. Getting up early Sunday morning Kyle, my friend Jordan and I jumped in the car and were off to Paris. Three hours later we had arrived in the city and were driving down the Champs Elysee. After meeting up with Kyle's buddy, we went up the Arc de Triumph and later wandered around the Eiffel Tower after enjoying a fabulous French meal. With a couple hours to game time, we climbed on the metro and were off to Palais Omnisports for the game. Sitting in the rowdy Olympiakos section while cheering for Ricky Rubio and Regal FC Barcelona, I couldn't believe I was witnessing the the best two teams in the world (yeah I said it, Euroleague teams, in my opinion, are the best TEAMS in the world) fight for the European title. After a loud, exciting game and Barcelona victory, Kyle and I said our goodbyes. He would be spending the next 4 days in Paris with 2 of his close high school friends. Though only in Paris for 24 hours, the visit was as memorable as the first. J'adore Paris...

Basketball Update: First, I must again apologize for my 3 week absence. Sadly, 2 weeks ago my hard drive on my laptop crashed - thus making my computer unusable. I took it to get repaired, but in Lux it's way more expensive than home. I'll wait until I'm back. That being said, I've been computer-less for close to 3 weeks and it has been a bit of a struggle. I somewhat depend on my computer, as it is my connection to home and is very important when abroad! After sporadically visiting Internet cafes and randomly using friends computers, I've finally been able to put together this blog. I hope to have another post up next week. A lot has happened in the past month. Without going into too much detail, my team breezed through the first round of playoffs and survived a war of a semi-final, winning a nail biting deciding game 3 by just 3 points! Down 10 with 7 minutes to go, my team and I battled back to take a 3 point lead with 5 seconds left. Without any timeouts, Etzella managed to get off a 3 point shot that thankfully, bounced off the rim and out. Phew! On to the finals vs. Musel Pikes. Game 1 on Sunday.

-BW

Merging

2010-05-03T06:14:00.011-07:00

With a mother who has spent her entire career working for the largest auto insurance corporation in British Columbia, I was raised a defensive driver the moment I set foot in a car.

Despite her constant corrections and backseat driving that drove me nuts growing up, I’m now thankful and appreciative of the good habits she ingrained into my subconscious. Though somewhat heavy on the gas pedal, I honestly believe I’m a safe driver. When behind the wheel I’m constantly alert, routinely checking my mirrors and always sure to wear seatbelt. I’ll never put a passenger at risk or jeopardize my wellbeing when driving; it’s not worth it. Erring on the side of caution is smart – especially when you have no idea whom you’re sharing the road with.

Realistically, everyone has bad driving practices – some worse than others. However, I’m convinced that drivers in Europe are among the boldest and most aggressive behind a steering wheel. Admittedly so, I am a fast driver. At least that’s what I thought until I started driving through Luxembourg, Germany, France and Belgium. The drivers here are insane! The difference between North American and European drivers is quite startling. Aside from the busy, narrow streets of downtown city centers, the majority of European countries are expressways, where posted speed limits are few and far between. Thus, no matter how fast you believe you’re traveling, it’s likely much too slow by European standards.

Since I’m driving the highly powerful and much sought after Renault Twingo, I don’t quite have the pick up or acceleration the majority of cars in Europe possess (read: BMW’s, Mercedes, Audi’s, Porches and Volkswagons…). Therefore when cruising on the expressway at speeds up to 140km/hr, I’m often startled when a powerful Luxury car screams by me at an AVERAGE of 170+ km/hr (105mph). I literally feel my car shake as they pass and can only exhale with relief that I wasn’t clipped in the process. There’s no way my Twingo would survive a bump by a car moving at these incomparable speeds.

Most North American’s know 140km/hr (87mph) is a pretty good clip to be traveling at. At home, this is considered fast – especially with other cars in close proximity. However, here in Europe, I spend most of my time in the right lane (slow lane) except when passing drivers slower than me (which surprisingly, do exist). The moment I change to the left lane, inevitably, a huge luxury car will zoom up from out of nowhere and literally sit inches from my bumper while impatiently flashing its headlights. Really? Give me 5 seconds to pass the car on my right and I’ll get out of the way! It’s times like these when the intimidation factor plays a huge part in my driving decisions abroad. I get angry and upset with aggressive, impatient drivers. These situations make driving a stressful experience and at times, I don’t feel safe on the road. Even when I turn to glare at drivers as they pass, there is no reaction. It's the way of the road here and expected that when sitting inches from someone’s bumper, you make way. Ridiculous!

While these actions may work for Europeans, I find them quite dangerous. Whether someone is buzzing by at a high speed, quickly switching lanes to cut me off, or passing only to change into my lane and reduce speed so I have to brake, I find it extremely inconsiderate and rude. In addition, a high percentage of drivers here ignore the yield sign when merging onto expressways. Without so much as a glance towards the lane they’re changing into, they'll move over. I’ve been inches from colliding with another car, as I’ve been unable to change into the left lane as they start to merge. After all this, they look at me as if I’m at fault. Hell-ooooo, you have to yield to me! Defensive driving is a survival instinct in Europe and everyday I thank my mom for her incessant nattering, which created important driving habits I use everyday.

Basketball Update: I apologize for my absence and lack of posts the last few weeks. I’ve been busy with the Cup Finals, a trip to Paris with my mom and aunt while visiting Luxembourg. My brother arrives tonight, so I’ll have another visitor to keep me company for the next few days. As excited as our team was for the Cup Final, we played terrible. It definitely was not our day and Musel Pikes deserved the victory. Though managing to pull within 4 points with 4 minutes remaining, we were unable to get any closer. I was double and triple teamed all night inside and didn’t get many touches in the second half. It was a frustrating game. That being said, we bounced back last Friday and snagged a much-needed ‘W’ against Contern. We're currently sitting in second place and have secured a spot in the league semi-finals with one regular season match remaining. My body is starting to protest with the end of the season so near. I’m tired and my muscles are sore, but it’s crunch time!

-BW

Sidenote: Props to my girl Lindsey Wilson who made her debut with the Seattle Storm last night. Seven points in 13 minutes…holla!

Ma Famille

2010-04-12T10:55:00.010-07:00

Family. Though only one word, it carries a lot of meaning. It’s hard being away from home for long periods of time, especially when from a family as close knit as mine.

Sometimes, we unintentionally take things in our lives for granted. In the offseason I think nothing of routine family dinners, meeting my dad at the gym, going out with my brother in Vancouver, or taking early morning walks through Steveston with my mom, while drinking coffee and chatting about life. These are some of the little things I miss when away, feeding the ever-present pangs of homesickness in Europe. However, I’m very thankful that I come from an extremely loving and supportive family that though far away, are in my thoughts everyday.

Whenever heading across the Atlantic for a new season abroad, I’m full of excitement and subconsciously repress the sadness of leaving my family. I know I’ll be back at Christmas, so the thought of being away doesn’t bother me much. However, once returning East after the holiday season, it’s the second half of the year that is always consumed by thoughts of home. Sometimes I find myself counting down the days until I board a plane to back to North America, whereas other days I can’t imagine not living the European lifestyle everyday.

This season has been unique. For the first time in my 3 years abroad, I really feel I have a family away from home. In my first 2 seasons, I became quite close with my (North) American counterparts on both the men’s and women’s teams. They essentially were my European family. We’d spend almost everyday hanging out, watching movies, celebrating or cooking dinner. As a unit, we reminded each other of home and kept homesickness somewhat at bay. However, as mentioned in previous posts, this season I’m the only (North) American on my team. Thus, when I first arrived in Luxembourg, I was extremely nervous - knowing I didn't have a teammate who was experiencing the same things I was while away from family.

Thankfully, these nerves were put to rest almost immediately. The Basket Esch community has far exceeded my expectations from a club. Not only have they welcomed me with open arms, but they have made me feel like one of their own. I’m a part of a family in Esch. Every team (men/women, basketball/handball), supports one another. Players and parents alike take care of me and look out for my best interests. It’s almost overwhelming to feel…so loved. Other American pro players in Luxembourg constantly tell me how lucky I am after they see and experience how close knit the Esch family is. Whenever I bring an American to the Esch gym/bar or visit with them after games, they witness first hand how friendly and genuinely caring the people of Esch are. This group of people constantly ask about past injuries and if there is anything I need. They ask about my brother and his university team and if my mom is excited to come visit at the end of April. They don’t forget details and always make an effort to be sure I’m enjoying my time in Luxembourg.

I’ve become close with my Luxembourgish teammates, their families and people surrounding the organization. However, I’ve become quite attached with the Slovakian family that owns/runs the bar in our gym. Dana and Otto are wonderful people. Caring, kind and thoughtful are just 3 of the characteristics that come to mind when I think of them. After practice I often sit in the bar to chat about a football match playing on TV or discuss how I spent my weekend. When I request it, they'll play my favorite songs over the bar’s speakers. They remembered my birthday and spoiled me with gifts. Pictures of their son and I are on display behind the bar – next to the Canadian shot glass I gave them at Christmas. When I injured my knee earlier in the season I stayed at their house, where they helped me through my physical setback. Between the 3 of us, none are fluent in any of each other’s languages (English, Slovakian, French, German, Luxembourgish) yet, we are still able to communicate well enough to share meaningful conversations and show our respect for one another. It’s really nice.

These two people hold a special place in my heart, but no one in Luxembourg does more so than their 10 year old son Ben. I love Ben. I don’t know any other way to put it. He’s my little brother. He’s at the gym almost everyday and brings a smile to my face the moment he tries to trip me or scare me from behind a door. We shoot hoops, joke around and tease each other while speaking in our own mixed language. He attends almost all my games and in warm-up I always look for him in the crowd to exchange the thumbs up sign. I watch as many of his games as I can and like a proud sister, cheer loudly when he does something great on the court. He’s befriended my American friends, so much so that when in Esch, they ask where he is and make sure to ruffle his hair when he’s around. Though Ben and I don’t share a common language, he’s always sure to bring up Washington or Canada in our conversations just to make me smile. Of course he could never take the place of my (real) brother (Kyle), but he’s mon petit frère. We have a strong, mutual bond that I’m very thankful for. He’s a great kid and the thought of perhaps never seeing him again when I depart at the end of the season makes me feel ill…

Basketball Update: With no games scheduled Easter weekend, my friend Jordan and I took a road trip to Munich, Germany. On our short vacation we were able to visit Neuschwanstein Castle (the inspiration behind the Disney’s sleeping beauty castle), Dachu Concentration Camp and the city of Munich. It was a fabulous trip full of good food and boisterous beer halls! The following week I played in the All-Star game which, as always, was a fun-filled, lighthearted event. The attendance was close to 2,000, packing Dudelange’s gym to standing room only, which made playing that much more fun. Sunday we began the second round of playoffs. Winning, we guaranteed ourselves a spot in the league semi-finals (even though there are 4 games left to play). Ugly and turnover riddled, we managed to pull out a 14-point victory. I played terrible, but hit 70% of my 18(!) attempted FT’s to fill up the stat sheet.

-BW

Hire Me!

2010-03-30T11:27:00.011-07:00

With a little over 2 months left to play in Luxembourg, I’ve started to think about summer employment. Do I want to work? Do I need to work? Should I apply for a full-time job or look for something more flexible, giving me time to train and actually enjoy my time off?

As a driven and independent 25-year-old woman, I’m starting to think about life after basketball. If I were a male in the same position, these thoughts probably wouldn’t be crossing my mind. Though I’m making a somewhat comfortable living, it by no means is going to support me for the rest of my life. Where many of my male counterparts are making upwards of 6,000 Euros a month sans expenses in Europe, (top men’s leagues are known to pay 50,000+ Euro/month) I’m continually learning how to budget while filtering money into savings and mutual funds. I also make sure to allocate parts of my monthly salary into a travel expense fund (for my weekly/monthly jaunts to other European countries) and summer fund (which when home, will enable me to visit and catch up with close friends.) I’m becoming a grown-up and it’s not easy. After living on my own for the past 7 years, I’m seeing progress, but a lot of this can be attributed to the fabulous support system I have from my parents at home.

As many will attest, yes – money is important. But I also think its important to experience things and enjoy life. I know I’m still young, but sometimes I stress when thinking about playing another year of hoops abroad. What will future employers think of my resume? Why would an organization hire someone whose main work experience post-college has been as a professional athlete in Europe? Do I want to be starting an entry-level job at age 27? How difficult would it be for me to get a visa to work in Seattle? With extra time on my hands, these are some of the things I overanalyze. My dad tells me to keep playing. My mom wants me to set down roots. I want to continue traveling the world and meeting new people….I guess a part of becoming an adult is making the tough decisions on your own.

Eventually, when I do stop playing the roundball, I know I’ll be a great hire for a company. I’m a determined individual who wants to succeed and never gives less than my best. Obviously I’m biased, but I think my lack of resume is actually better than some of those that contain ‘real’ work experience. While I haven’t worked for a corporation, organization or company for X number of years, I’ve gained knowledge and experience that can’t be read in a textbook or taught in a classroom or workplace. I’ve experienced living in different countries months at a time. I’ve traveled to diverse cities across Europe and have learned to assimilate to numerous cultures, beliefs and values. I’ve befriended those with much different backgrounds than I and have communicated with people I don’t share a common language with. I’ve made my way through foreign lands on foot, by plane, train, car and public transit. I’ve hitched rides with strangers, organized travel plans, seen poverty first hand and associated with the extremely rich. I’ve been forced to hold myself accountable at all times and have had to motivate myself individually while also working in a team setting in order to achieve success. I’ve been a mentor and have taught teammates skills both on and off the court. For the past 3 years I’ve learned more than I could of ever learned in high school or college. I have real world experience. I'm international and have learned to be self sufficient in order to survive and thrive in foreign lands.

Almost anyone can look fabulous on a piece of paper, but I think an important part of someone’s personality is his or her life experiences – which are often overlooked. So if you're in the market for a potential employee...hire me!☺

Basketball Update: With the first half of playoffs complete, we’re sporting a 4-1 record. We play each team in the top 6 one more time, with the top 4 teams moving onto semi-finals. This will be my longest season spent in Europe thus far. If all goes according to plan, I could be here until June 10th! Crazy! Last weekend we won a particularly important game against a team we are tied for 2nd with. Up 10 with 4 minutes to go in the first half, I was unnecessarily hit in the face by the opposing professional (Canadian) on a box out. The moment her elbow made contact, the skin below my eye split open and starting gushing blood. Trying to staunch the flow, I grabbed my towel and ran to the bathroom. I didn’t shed a tear, until I took off the towel and looked at my face. With the mirror reflecting mangled skin and blood, I almost threw up and finally lost my composure. Avoiding my reflection after first glance, the opposing teams doctor finally came into the restroom and tried his best to calm me down in Luxembourgish, while applying butterfly bandages. Once cleaned up, he ordered someone to take me to emergency. Upset about my face, I couldn’t help but feel like I was letting my team down. This was an important away game that with a win, would keep us tied for 2nd. Unable to do anything else, I was rushed to the hospital in a big shiny black Mercedes. After sweet-talking the counter staff at the hospital, I was in and out in about 30 minutes. Since the skin under my eye was too thin, instead of stitches the doctor glued the gash together. Rushing back to the gym (even though I was not allowed to play), I was surprised to receive loud clapping and cheers from the crowd as I returned to my team’s bench. Embarrassed, I gave a quick wave and ran to high five my teammates. I’m really proud of them. The came together when it mattered most, clamped down and grinded out a 6 point victory.

Swollen, blue and bloody – I’m not the cutest thing right now. I can only hope that my battle scar will heal without leaving much of a mark. Because please believe, if not, that girl will be paying for my plastic surgery to restore my beauty! ☺

-BW

C'est la vie!

2010-03-16T09:28:00.009-07:00

Routines – we all have them. They’re a part of everyday life. Whether getting up for work, riding the bus to school or drinking coffee in the morning, most people have a specific pattern they like to follow day in and day out. Routines are easy. They don’t require much thinking and eventually become habit.

Personally, I have a love/hate relationship with routines. As much as I try to stay away from them and be spontaneous, it’s very difficult. I’m a type A personality in the sense that I’m extremely organized, like to write 'to do' lists and make somewhat of an outline of my plans week to week. A bit compulsive? Yes. But these nuances keep me sane and allow me to stick to my…routine.

Despite the fact that my daily regimen keeps me organized, on time and accountable, I sometimes feel like a robot. With a little more than 2 months to go and the end of the season in sight, I’m starting to get antsy and sick of it. Part of me wants to rebel and jump on plane to South America for two weeks – but obviously this is an extremely ridiculous and unrealistic option. I’m under contract and I take pride in my job. I can’t just leave because I feel like I’m slowly losing my sanity. However, every night when I cross out the days on my calendar, these are the type of thoughts that run through my mind…

Every morning I wake up early enough to make coffee and read the news online. With minutes to spare, I’m out the door and on the freeway driving towards a neighboring city to shoot with a men’s 1st division coach and 7 Americans (men and women). The workout is always great. For an hour Jan (T71 men’s coach) puts us through a high intensity, competitive skill workout. It wakes me up, gets the sweat dripping and competitive juices flowing. When the hour is up we catch our breath, stretch and socialize before heading our different ways. After finishing up in Dudelange, I drive back to Esch and eat lunch provided by a restaurant I visit everyday. The food isn’t bad, but it’s not great either. After lunch I'm home for an hour to catch up on emails, then off to the fitness center for about an hour and a half. During this time I lift, do a cardio workout and abdominal exercises. Finally, I head back to the apartment to rinse off, finish up homework (for the two online classes I’m taking), make dinner and get ready for practice. Depending on the day, practice concludes at either 8:30pm or 10pm. Following practice I shower, have a snack, then typically watch a movie or read before going to bed; only to get up and do it all over again. Saturday and Sunday are game days, so they're a bit different. There are exceptions, but for the most part, the above is on repeat for 8 months.

Living in Europe is unlike living at 'home' (Vancouver/Seattle). I’m never really able to break out of my pattern in Luxembourg. I can’t sporadically go eat dinner at my parent’s house, visit my grandparents, meet up with a close friend for coffee or join a random club at a local community centre. I’m in a foreign land surrounded by different cultures and languages. I don’t have another pro teammate by my side this season going through the same emotions as I. Yes, I’m close with a couple of the pro’s on opposing teams – but there is no one beside me in the weight room encouraging me through the last set or someone to take the pressure off me in practice. It’s just me, myself and I 70% of the day. And sometimes, that person can drive me crazy! ☺

Though I realize I’m living an interesting and comfortable lifestyle - a lifestyle I quite enjoy, it’s always around this time of year I start to feel this way. Maybe it’s because I’m sick right now, coming down from the high of my birthday or that I’m getting excited about summer plans – but the last few weeks have been tough. My body is sore, I’m tired of being double or triple teamed every time I touch the ball and I’m starting to hate lifting weights in a weight room full of juice heads in tight clothes who love to admire themselves in the mirror.

Understand I’m thankful my job doesn’t have me chained to a desk everyday. But sometimes, I can’t tell the difference between a Monday and Saturday. At times I forget what day of the week it is or date of the month. I do the same thing almost every single day of the week, 8 months the year when overseas. Monday through Sunday rarely changes. The moment I have a day or two off, I’m out the door with suitcase in hand, ready to break the routine and lose myself in a new destination.

There are a couple times during the week I'm able to meet up with friends, but it’s difficult. My Lux friends work regular jobs and the Americans I hang out with most have conflicting practice schedules. We make time, but not without difficultly. As the only pro’s on each of our respective teams, most of our days are spent working out alone. We all live in different parts of the country, with access to different gyms. Our workouts and practices are scheduled at different times. Even when I have a few hours to spare, I’m often too tired to go anywhere from working out hard. It’s not a bad life and I know that there are people out there working much harder. But the point of this post is to give you an idea of my 'work' life abroad.

I realize the tone of this entry is different than most I have written. And I would like reiterate that I really do enjoy getting paid to play basketball and live/travel in Europe. Sometimes I forget I've been given the opportunity to live in and experience beautiful countries full of history and uniqueness. But I'm not here just to sightsee - I'm here to do a job. There is always the other side that people don't realize and it's the part that isn’t as glamorous as it seems. But as stated earlier, it’s very difficult around this point in the year when the end is so near (yet so far), the body is starting to ache and being far from friends, family and home really starts to sink in. It can be isolating, lonely and tiring. But it’s the life of an overseas basketball player.

-BW

Sidenote: Thank you to all my friends in Luxembourg who made my 25th birthday memorable! I had fabulous birthday evening spent with wonderful people. I’m thankful for such great friends!

Sidenote2: Congrats to UBC, my brother's university team for making Nationals! With the #3 seed in the Final 8, they open this Friday. With a win, they'd play in the semi's Saturday and the CIS National Championship game Sunday! GO T-BIRDS!!!

Frenemies

2010-03-02T15:07:00.010-08:00

Every time I step on the basketball court, there’s only one thing on my mind. Winning. I’m not there to make friends, win over fans or allow the other team to feel good about themselves; I’m there to put the ball in the hoop and get the ‘W.’ I play basketball because it’s fun – but I don’t play to lose.

There are no friends on the hardwood. Challenge a competitive basketball player to a game of 1 on 1, H-O-R-S-E, or 3 point contest. The moment the ball touches their hands, their demeanor changes instantly. Whether facing a sibling, boyfriend/girlfriend or best friend – a competitive athlete only thinks of victory. Though the match may start out as somewhat of a joke, when the game is on the line, the beast will reveal itself. And that beast only wants to win.

In college, a good friend of mine played for the Washington State Cougars. We chatted on the phone and exchanged emails weekly. But in the 7 days leading up to the Apple Cup (instate rivalry game: UW vs. WSU) we cut off all contact. It was as if our friendship didn’t exist. For that week, we weren’t friends - we were rivals. We were enemies. We were out for blood. Every time we stepped on the court for a jump ball, we didn’t make eye contact when when we slapped hands. Of course it was only fitting that we were assigned to guard each other, testing our friendship even further. Neither of us batted an eye when accidently hitting the other with an errant elbow or fouling the other hard on attempted shots. We were both on the court to get the win, not to build our friendship. Once the final buzzer sounded however, we were the first to embrace and congratulate one another on a hard fought game (which I will point out…UW always won – sorry KB, I couldn’t resist! ☺)

It’s strange how sport can affect your emotions – from no emotion, to too much emotion; it’s very difficult to find that middle ground. From the moment I started playing college basketball until now, (3rd season abroad) never had I intentionally befriended an opponent. As stated earlier, opposing teams have always been the enemy and no competitive athlete is looking to make friends on the court (unless of course you knew each other prior to college – this is an exception to the rule). Every season when my UW team and I attended the PAC-10 tournament, every other team would cluster in their own little area, glaring at opponents while making catty remarks just out of earshot. We all had our own friends at our own schools and were more concerned with winning, than complementing someone on how cute their shoes were.

However, post college my mindset has changed somewhat. I still only think of winning when on the court – but now a bit of me always wonders if the opposing American is ‘cool.’ I know, it’s strange. But when you’re a foreigner in a foreign land, you look for almost anything to remind you of home. Since graduating I’ve run into past rivals, some of which I've become friends with (off the court). Most notably Casey Nash, my teammate last season in Portugal. Casey played for Oregon State the same 4 years I played for Washington. We battled each other every season without ever exchanging one word. And now, I consider her to be one of my close friends.

This season in Luxembourg has brought down my barrier somewhat. With only one import on each team, (read: North American player) you’re literally by yourself. Most countries allow 2 or 3 imports and in some cases even more. But here in Lux, it’s only one. You’re all you have as far as a connection to home. At least that was what I thought…

As this season has progressed I find myself surrounded with more and more rivals as friends. It’s a weird feeling, knowing I have to be extra professional when I step onto the court to face my ‘rival.’ In addition, 90% of the time the (North) American players guard one another all 40 minutes. And it can get heated. As the only import player, you are expected to produce every single game. That doesn’t just mean points and rebounds – it means shutting down the opposing American. Talk about pressure and pushing a friendship to its limits. However, the girls I’ve befriended have found ways to somewhat diffuse high emotion situations. It can be as simple as helping you up after a hard foul, patting you on the back when a bad call is made, or even making a sarcastic remark or rolling the eyes when they know they got away with something. It’s nice. It’s different. And I’m learning to accept it.

I definitely have a great group of Luxembourgish friends, but I also have my American friends who help keep the homesickness at bay. I don’t hang out with every import in the league, but I do have an awesome crew that spends a lot of time together. There are about 8 of us – guys and girls included. Five days a week we shoot together in the mornings at a rival club’s gym, meet up Monday nights to eat wings at a specific sports bar in the city, go to each others games and on the weekends and rendez-vous in the evenings to enjoy the nightlife together. As the season heads into playoffs, I’ve found I’ve made some really good friends, who also just so happen to be my opponents. I don’t hang out with them just because they are (North) American. I hang out with them because I enjoy their company.

Sunday was the highlight of my month. As the only Canadian in the league, I put myself out there and organized an event at our gym bar for the Canada vs. USA Olympic gold medal hockey game. I invited almost all the Americans I’ve conversed with during the season and told them we could all watch the game while wearing our country’s colors. Outnumbered more than 8 to 1, I managed to survive the night thanks to Sidney Crosby! It turned out to be a fabulous evening that led into the wee hours of the morning.

As the Olympic Games come to a close, I recommend you check out the two 5 minute clips below. Since the topic of this post was ‘frenemies’, I think it's only fitting to listen to Tom Brokaw explain Canadians to Americans (prior to the Olympics), and enjoy a tear jerking Olympic Montage by the Globe and Mail's Stephen Brunt.

Round 3 of playoffs Sunday…ironically against my closest rival/friend here in Lux…

-BW

Olympic Fever

2010-02-17T15:50:00.011-08:00

Forget the Swine Flu, I’ve caught a bad case of Olympic fever and can’t find a cure - as I’m thousands of miles from my home and native land. Prior to returning to Europe this season, I didn’t think twice about the winter games. Even though I spent my summer working full-time at the Olympic Oval, talked to speed skaters on a daily basis and helped the facility get ready for the big event, I knew I was going to be abroad and didn’t spend time thinking about where I would be when the Olympic torch was lit. Friends constantly asked how I was going to feel being away from my hometown when it was hosting one of the biggest events in the world. I usually responded: “if it was the summer Olympics, I’d for sure stay home. But since it’s winter, I don’t know that I’ll really miss anything other than the hockey…”

Wow…I could not of been more wrong. Though I’m enjoying myself this season in Europe, I really wish I were in Vancouver. Looking back on the decision I made in August – I still think I would have made the same one. However, I really can’t believe I’m not home experiencing/witnessing/feeling the atmosphere of the games. My parents call me daily with updates on the city and events around town (my house is literally 5 minutes from the Richmond ‘O’ Zone, Heineken House and Olympic Oval), friends email me photos, rave about partying with the Dutch, share details on how they rubbed shoulders with athletes, brag about how much Canada gear they wear each day and explain whenever screaming “Go Canada Go!” they always receive a positive response in return.

Meanwhile, I’m in Luxembourg surfing the Internet for updates, clicking through online photo galleries, watching streaming videos and staying up late/waking up early to watch live Olympic events on a German telecast. Thus, I don’t really get to see Canadian athletes or the events they compete in. Often I find myself commenting aloud in the wee hours of the morning: “that’s right by my house! I love False Creek! I’m so happy the world is experiencing/seeing where I live!” And, “my city is so beautiful!” among other things. I don’t have patriotic Canadians to share what I’m feeling with. To be honest and for lack of a better word, it really sucks! I’m jealous of the pictures my friends post on facebook, the details they share about events they’ve attended and I hate to admit it, but I miss following Brian Williams' every word on CTV (all you Canadians reading this know exactly what I’m talking about!!!) Friends and family talk excitably about how they can actually feel the spirit of the games. Canadian pride is everywhere, people are happy, my city is hosting the world…and I’m in Europe.

As difficult as it is to be away right now, I’m dealing with it. As much as I’d like to be there, I’m not and instead of dwelling on it, I’ve kept myself busy traveling while wearing my red and white Olympic gear everywhere I go. ☺ Last weekend after our the Luxembourg Cup semi-final (which we won! More on this later…) I hopped on a plane to Dublin for a 3-day mini-tour of Ireland. Last season in Madeira, my American teammate Casey and I became quite close with 2 bartenders who worked at a local Irish bar. They were close to our age with one hailing from New Zealand and the other from South Africa. When our season came to a close and Casey and I were leaving the island, we exchanged contact info with both barkeeps and promised to keep in touch and meet again. Through my travels I’ve met tons of cool people and as much as you promise to keep in touch, it rarely happens. This time however, I proved that thought wrong. I’d never been to Ireland and as luck would have it (pun intended) Tineke (New Zealand) had relocated from Madeira to Dublin months earlier to continue her Euro travels while still working. Connecting through emails and text messages, we discussed travel dates and I finally booked my flight. The two of us would be reconnecting almost one year since we’d last seen each other!

With Tineke meeting me at the airport, I was off to explore Dublin. I won’t recount much of the trip in this entry, but will say one thing - Dublin is not a city you visit for the ‘sights.’ It’s a place to visit to experience the Irish way of life…most of which involves drinking Guinness and Jameson. Dublin is unlike any other European city I’ve traveled to. It’s so different from places like Athens, Barcelona, Amsterdam, Brussels, etc. Honestly, it wasn’t at all what I had expected. I quickly learned that you visit Dublin to experience the pubs, listen to Irish music, drink Guinness and eavesdrop on the lovely accent.

After a day in Dublin, I was ready to see another part of the country. With not enough time to travel to Cork or Galway, a local suggested I go to Howth, a fishing village 40 minutes outside of Dublin. It turned out to be a fabulous recommendation. Howth is an adorable village situated on the Irish Sea. It reminded me a little bit of home. I was fortunate to have wonderful weather and hiked the nearby cliffs to take pictures of Dublin Bay and houses below. After spending the afternoon in this tiny town, I enjoyed a fresh seafood lunch and headed back to Dublin to meet up with Tineke for the evening.

Not really wanting to spend my last day in Dublin, Tineke and I planned a day trip to Belfast, Northern Ireland. Known for its conflict between Catholics and Protestants, I was interested to see what the city was really like. Belfast surprised me. With everything I had seen on the news and read about in the papers years before, I was expecting it to be somewhat ‘dangerous.’ Belfast is nothing like that. I never felt uncomfortable. It’s a metropolitan, modern city and interestingly enough, is not a part of Ireland. It’s a part of the UK, flying the Union Jack from buildings and using the British Pound as currency. Belfast is so completely different than Dublin – and I loved it! City Hall is gorgeous and “peace walls” standing in certain parts of the city really make you think. To this day they still stand, separating Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods…literally. At 6pm gates are closed along Shankill Road to discourage ‘neighborly’ conflicts. Violence is not as common anymore, but disagreements still breakout. If ever in Belfast, one MUST take a black taxi tour. Its money well spent for an hour plus education on the history of the city. Returning late that evening to Dublin, I headed back to Lux the following morning thinking about the differences between these two unique cities…

Basketball Update: With somewhat of a ‘vacation break’ going on here in Luxembourg, the last game we played was on Feburary 6th, which was the Luxembourg Cup semi-finals. With over 2,000 fans packing the gym, it was one of the first times I had butterflies in my stomach before the game in Europe. Winning this game would be huge for our team and would put us in position to play for the Cup championship. Playing a team we had split with this season, I knew it was going to be a battle from the tip. With their fans out numbering us 2 to 1, we had to focus on what we could control. I started off hot in the first 2 minutes, then unfortunately landed wrong on an opponents foot. Sprained ankle = bad news…there was nothing I could do but lace my shoes up tight. My team needed me. I managed to make it through the first half as we headed into the locker room down 3. Determined to get the ‘W,’ I was on my teammates, trying to pump them up and get them ready for 20 more minutes of basketball. Ignoring the pain, I tried to warm up. No go. Once I had stopped running and moving at half, my ankle had swollen up to the size of a tennis ball. It was so stiff that I didn’t know if I could play the second half. Sucking it up, I massaged the swollen-ness high enough that I could lace up my basketball shoe suffocating tight. I’m not going to lie, the second half was probably the toughest 20 minutes of basketball I have every played. Every step was an effort and jumping made me want to scream. It was mind over matter at that point. Finally, in the 4th quarter we were able to pull away and build somewhat of a comfortable lead. With 7 minutes left in the game I almost threw up. I couldn’t run any more and was literally dragging my right leg up and down the court, trying to bother as many shots as I could. When the final buzzer sounded, my first thought was not of celebration, but of sticking my ankle in an enormous bucket of ice. Ignoring the pain for a few extra minutes I saluted our fans, hugged teammates, posed for pictures and finally made my way off the court. Just another day at the office…

-BW

Burrr-lin, Germany

2010-02-01T15:26:00.015-08:00

Athens, Brussels, Strasbourg, Trier…in my 3 seasons abroad I’ve never been able to travel as much as I have this year. With a somewhat lenient schedule, my location deserves all the credit for making these trips possible. Living in central Europe has its benefits and one of them is being able to make a day trip (or two) to a nearby city or country.

With a Saturday game finally scheduled (we normally play Sundays), I had 2 full days off – which meant I was already packing my bag and researching realistic travel destinations. As luck would have it, my friend Jordan (an American who plays for a rival club) had the same schedule. Putting our heads together, we eventually decided on Berlin, Germany.

With our flights booked and hostel reserved, we were scheduled to depart Frankfurt Hahn (2 hour drive) at 6:20am the morning following games. This meant we had had to be on a shuttle bus leaving Luxembourg at 3am. Deciding there was no point trying to sleep that evening, J and I planned to meet in Clausen (a street downtown Lux lined with bars) around midnight.

Connecting at the rendez-vous point, we spent our evening with friends while keeping an eye on the clock. As the night progressed, I found myself chatting with Gerard, a nice fellow that seemed to know the people I had arrived with. Eventually Berlin came up and we started discussing my trip. He seemed interested and suggested some must see sights. I mentally took note.

As the clock ticked toward 2am, Jordan and I said our goodbyes and started to leave the bar. On our way out, Gerard offered us a ride to the bus station. Making sure we weren’t cutting his night short, we agreed and hopped in his car. Chatting while waiting for the bus, Gerard paused mid-conversation and suddenly said, “what if I came with you guys?” I know what you’re probably thinking; he’s a stranger we met a few hours ago. However, he never made us feel uncomfortable and was genuinely nice. Believe me, if either of us had an inkling he was a creeper, or didn’t want him to come – he would of received a resounding “no.” Gerard was cool and I finally made the connection - he was the brother of one of my teammates! After extending the invite, we warned him that there was no guarantee Ryan Air would sell him a plane ticket in Frankfurt. As the bus pulled up to the stop, Gerard make a quick decision and decided he was in. Leaving the shuttle in our wake, the 3 of us were off to Frankfurt Hahn in Gerard’s compact.

After a ride full of conversation, we arrived in Frankfurt at 5:00 am. Collecting our tickets from check in, the moment of truth had come. Would Gerard be able to get on the flight? As cliché as it sounds, all good things do come to an end and unfortunately, Gerard's journey did as well. Where Jordan and I had purchased roundtrip tickets for 50 Euros, Gerard’s would of cost 350 Euros from the desk. Needless to say, he would be heading home. Feeling horrible about the whole situation, there wasn’t anything we could do. He knew the risk and sadly it didn’t turn in his favor. Thanking him for the ride and telling him to drive safe, Jordan and I stumbled deliriously onto the plane, promptly falling asleep once taking our seats.

Jolted awake by a rough landing, we had finally made it to Berlin. Wiping the sleep from our eyes, our next mission was finding a train station that stopped near our hostel. Familiarizing ourselves with a U-Bahn map, 40 minutes later we were in Alexanderplatz, one block from our accommodations. Stepping out of the station and into the cold, my lungs immediately screamed in protest. Cold? That’s an understatement. It was FREEZING! Not only was the temperature -15°C, but the wind-chill was almost unbearable. Any exposed skin was instantly numb once in contact with the air. Our 2-minute walk was torture. I couldn’t feel my toes and my eyes refused to stop watering…Welcome to Berlin!

Checking in at 9:30am, the receptionist informed us our room wasn’t available until 2pm. Terrific. Cold, sleep deprived and hungry – I almost lost it. Explaining our situation, the Aussie suggested we relax upstairs in the common area until our rooms were ready. Deciding it was best to try and get a bit of rest, the two of us sprawled out on a couple of couches for some shut eye. Waking after a short, cold, uncomfortable nap, Jordan and I fueled our tired bodies with coffee, plastered on smiles and decided to brave the cold and explore and experience the historical city of Berlin.

Determined to spend as little time as possible outside, J and I mapped out train stops near destinations we wanted to see. With neither of us knowing how to speak or pronounce a word of German, we entertained ourselves by creating nicknames for each stop. For example, Warschauerstrabe was referred to as Worcestershire sauce, just as Senefelderplatz was renamed Seinfeld’s palace. As ridiculous as it may sound, it added to the experience and also helped us remember where to get off. Navigating around the city was faster and easier than first thought. The U-Bahn took us everywhere we wanted to go – it was fantastic! I still don’t understand why many large North American cities haven’t embraced this idea. It’s cheap and makes public transport simple.

Our first day in Germany’s capital city was a success. Though it started slow and the cold had us in a negative frame of mind, we attacked Berlin head on. Persevering through our lack of sleep and clothing layers, we strolled down Unter den Linden and ate bratwurst while educating ourselves about the history of the city. We snapped pictures of the Fernsehturm (TV Tower) and went inside the Berliner Dom to appreciate its architecture. Continuing west, we admired Brandenburger Tor while sipping hot chocolate from Starbucks (yes, they’re everywhere!) and then braved the cold as we waited in line outside the Reichstag. Close to hypothermic, it was worth the wait. The glass dome inside this parliament building was extravagant and looked like a massive tornado made of mirrors! Additionally, the view was fantastic and really gave a feel of the city. With our feet starting to drag, we concluded the day with stops at the Holocaust Memorial – which was eerily silent though located between two fairly busy streets, Check Point Charlie – not quite what I imagined (though a significant part of history, it’s nothing spectacular) and finally Hitler’s Bunker – now a parking lot. I’m not sure why it was a ‘must see’ because there was nothing there other than a descriptive sign…lame.

After refueling at a Thai restaurant for dinner, Jordan and I reached our hostel around 7pm (note: at this point we have been up for 30 hours and entered our hostel room for the first time) and collapsed on our beds. Agreeing on a 3-hour nap before heading out to experience Berlin’s nightlife, we were asleep the minute our heads touched the pillows.

During our previous conversation, I’d set my alarm for 9:30pm - an alarm I’ve never slept through. Waking from a deep sleep, I checked the time – it was 11:30pm!!! Smacking Jordan with a pillow, I told her we had to get up. With every ounce of our bodies willing us to return to bed, we threw on some clothes and touched up our makeup. We were going to go downstairs to the hostel bar to be social. The place was busy and full of men – perfect! Trying to figure out the occasion, Jordan noticed the AFC and NFC finals were playing on all the TVs. Grabbing two spots at the bar, we agreed to stick with pop for the evening. That didn’t last long. If you can imagine a bar full of guys with only two women in the vicinity, naturally we'd become the center of attention. Unfocused and still half asleep, ridiculous amounts of alcohol started coming our way. The Aussie bartender laughed at us as he continued to bring endless rounds of shots and made sure our glasses were always full. Overwhelmed, we didn’t even know who to thank! Eventually a handsome guy sauntered our way and introduced himself. He’d be living in Berlin for 4 years, but is originally from Texas. Chatting the night away while cheering on the Saints (go Reggie Bush!), Seth was an interesting guy who we enjoyed conversing with. Later in the evening I glanced at my watch and was shocked to see it read 4am! Not wanting to ruin our last day in Berlin, we bid Seth goodbye and returned to our room, while trying to figure out how time was flying by so fast.

After a tremendous effort, the 2 of us were up again at 10am and off to see the rest of Berlin. Hopping off the U-Bahn at Worcestershire sauce, 5-minutes later we were walking along the East Side Gallery – a 1.3km memorial for freedom (refurbished part of the original Berlin Wall) covered with approximately 106 paintings by artists from all over the world. It’s the largest open-air gallery and is a very power site. The gallery was my favourite spot in Berlin and Jordan and I spent a good chunk of time reading informative signs, viewing paintings and educating ourselves on it's history. There’s no better way to learn than to experience it first hand. I truly believe that.

Conquering the wall, we returned east to see the few things we had missed the previous day. Snapping photos of beautiful Gendarmenmarkt Square, we continued on to the Siegessaule (victory column) and finished our tour at Kaiser-Wilhelm Gedachtniskirche. Exhausted, cold and hungry we skipped Charlottenburg Palace and an old concentration camp (both too far outside the city for our schedule) in favor of food and warmth. Finally returning to our hostel, we collected our bags and jumped on the train to the airport.

With a 9:20pm flight, we didn't reach our respective apartments in Luxembourg until 2:30am. Though exhausted from lack of sleep and frozen to the core, this was a trip I won’t forget. Berlin is one of the most educational cities I’ve ever visited and would recommend it to anyone…even in the winter! ☺

-BW

Sidenote: My next blog post won’t be until the weekend of February 12th. I have a super busy schedule the next few weeks. But rest assured, the next post will be jammed packed with information and updates!

Waffles, Chocolates and Beers...Oh My!

2010-01-23T07:28:00.010-08:00

With 3 large bodies folded somewhat comfortably in the Twingo, we were off to Brussels, Belgium for the day. Having planned the trip 2 times previously (both of which fell through at the last moment), I was excited to be on the road to gastronomic heaven.

My Twingo has been good to me. Though not the flashiest or speediest car on the road, it’s delivered me from point A to point B without incident. Sure it has difficultly accelerating and defogging the windows is done more effectively with a paper towel, but it’s good on gas and very convenient – allowing me to make sporadic road trips whenever I have the time.

Surviving 2.5 hours of highway driving and battling successfully through the notoriously traffic jammed Small Ring, we had arrived in Brussels! After a quick stop outside the city to view the Atomium, we found a parking garage in the city - making sure to memorize and note the cross streets. Walking map in one hand and camera in the other, Erin, Eugene and I couldn’t have fit the tourist stereotype any better. Agreeing on which sites were must sees, the 3 of us started to make our way through the city.

One of my favorite things about Europe are the walking streets that can be found in city centres. No cars, just pedestrian traffic. Not only are they unique and convenient, but they also promote window-shopping and allow tourists to take in surroundings without feeling rushed or crowded. In addition, they often lead to a main square where you’ll find city hall, a large church and beautiful historic buildings. The centre of town is always a popular site for seasonal markets, events and street performers.

Not to be disappointed, this walking street held true to stereotype. Viewing the buildings on both sides of the street, I immediately stopped in my tracks and dropped my jaw. The narrow sidewalk had suddenly opened up into a massive, breathtaking square. I don’t know a better way to describe it. I’ve seen a few centre squares in my day, but this one (so far) has to have been the most impressive. Not only were the buildings full of detail, but they were enormous and made me feel miniscule when looking up. The square and buildings were so large, that I found it close to impossible to fit it all in one picture.

Once somewhat satisfied I had captured most of square, Erin suggested we find Manneken Pis, a famous Brussels landmark adorned on everything from shot glasses to t-shirts. Following our map, we found the cross streets but couldn’t see the statue. Imagine our surprise when we turned around and saw a tiny bronze boy surrounded by iron bars. This was the famous landmark the Belgians raved about? Wow. To say we were disappointed is an understatement. I’d hardly call it a landmark - the chocolate replica in a chocolatier store across the street was much cooler, so we took pictures of it instead. However, our spirits were quickly revived when we noticed the two waffle shops that surrounded Manneken Pis. The smell of batter alone had me salivating, as I selected a waffle with bananas, strawberries, chocolate syrup and powered sugar. Fresh off the iron, I could barely wait to take a bite. So excited was I, that I ended up spilling chocolate down my jacket and all over my backpack. Slick. A klutz since birth, I wasn’t deterred. The second time I managed to get waffle in my mouth and almost melted from sensory overload. Believe the hype, Belgian waffles are what they say and more!

Spending the next 10 minutes silently devouring our delicacies, we were full. I hate to admit it, but the thought of eating chocolate after the waffle was too much. A self-proclaimed sweet tooth, I have no problem admitting dark chocolate is my weakness. However, the closest I got to Belgian chocolate on this trip was admiring it through store windows and buying samples for friends. The waffles owned me!

Ignoring a stomachache (from waffle overindulgence), Eugene, Erin and I utilized the rest of the daylight and afternoon wandering up and down narrow alleys, viewing the beautiful churches and landmarks and snapping pictures of anything that looked old ☺. Sitting down for a late lunch, I was upset with myself. I wasn’t even in the mood for a Belgian beer. Deciding not to force myself to drink one just to say I did, I've decided I will return to Brussels so I can enjoy the beer. I'll be back before leaving Luxembourg, as I have yet to taste the chocolate, want to gorge on a few more waffles and enjoy a beer…or two…or three…

Game tonight, the second of my return! I’m excited to hit the hardwood and make it rain!!!

-BW

I Love This Game

2010-01-16T02:26:00.007-08:00

After not touching a ball for close to 5 weeks, I was somewhat nervous to take my first shot. Afraid my basketball skills had somehow left me completely, I quickly scanned the gym to make sure no one was watching. Once in shooting form, I released the ball smoothly and watched as it arched perfectly, reached its climax and fell silently through the air. My first shot of 2010 was an air ball and I couldn’t of been happier. It was time to return to the court.

It sounds cliché, but it’s truly amazing how much you miss something once it’s gone. After I injured my knee, the littlest things started to stress me out. I’m conditioned to shooting a basketball everyday and working out a minimum of 5 days a week. Not being able to do anything other than arm workouts and ab exercises had me way out of my comfort zone. I was full of energy and emotions that I couldn’t expel and was always worrying about how long it would take to get back into game shape. For those that don’t play basketball, the only way to get into basketball shape is to play. Whether you run 6 miles everyday, sprint lines until you can’t walk or bike the Pyrenees for fun, nothing prepares you for 40 minutes of basketball; other than playing 40+ minutes of basketball. Obviously if you have a good cardio base, it comes back much quicker, but when you haven’t been getting your heart rate up on a daily basis for over a month, running and sprinting while dribbling a ball is no easy feat.

I gradually worked my way back onto the court by going to physio, strengthening my knee, riding the bike, doing light leg workouts and jogging with a ball. After clearing each hurdle successfully, I’d try something more. One of the final steps was shooting on the move and then finally taking part in an entire practice - aside from the scrimmage. The knee was feeling good and it was time to put it to the test.

This week I completed 2 full practices and 3 high level shooting workouts and felt great! I had originally planned for a January 23rd return, but since I had no pain and was confident in my knee, our physio and I decided that playing against a somewhat weaker opponent on January 16th would be as good a game as any for me to gage my knee strength and mental state. After a 20-point victory and 35 minutes on the floor, I’m now confident that I’m close to being back in full form. As expected, I was extremely fatigued and showed signs of rust with half my shots flying way off the mark - but I was back doing what I loved and couldn’t of been happier.

Running up and down the hardwood last night, I couldn’t believe how much I missed the game of basketball and how much fun I was having. It was like reconnecting with a past love and picking up right where you left off (hmm…if only love were that easy…☺) Until I had the game taken away, I didn’t realize how much it meant to me. The minor obstacle I’d faced in the last month showed me my true passion for the game and the reason why I love it so much.

Find that thing you love and embrace it, you’ll be amazed to find how many of your worries disappear…

-BW

Back to the Future

2010-01-06T13:18:00.006-08:00

Happy New Year, Bonne Année, Feliz Ano Novo!

With a New Year comes new thoughts, adventures and experiences to be had. Looking back at the past decade, I have a lot to be thankful for. Particularly, the last 7 years - which have helped shaped me into the independent woman I am today. Through the ups and downs and highs and lows of my adult life, I’ve realized that aside from my family, the one thing that has remained consistent in my life is basketball.

Basketball is a huge part of who I am. The day I started walking was the day I started dribbling a ball. From following my dad to men’s league games, to wearing oversized NBA jerseys and playing with the boys at recess, the sport has always been in my blood. I was destined to play the game.

I’ve given the sport most of my life and in return, it’s allowed me to travel the world expense free, experience new cultures, receive a free education and now, earn a fairly good salary 8 months of the year. At times it can be an isolating, nomadic lifestyle that gives me too much time to think; which can be both a good and bad thing.

With so much spare time on my hands and having friends and family so far away, I often tend to analyze past events, former flames and play the horrible ‘what if…’ game. It’s not that I’m living in the past, but sometimes can’t help these thoughts from creeping into my head. Especially if I’m having a bad day or happen to be sidelined with an injury…

I can’t imagine a life without playing basketball. But since returning to Luxembourg after Christmas break, I’ve finally started to put some thought into my future after ball. Maybe it’s because I still have a holiday hangover (my two weeks at home were easily the best 2 weeks I’ve had for Christmas/NYE in the past 7 years), or because my mom has slyly been insinuating that I should start to set down some roots, or perhaps it’s just due to the fact that I wasn’t able to workout (knee) over break and get out the huge amounts of aggression and emotion I’ve been feeling since being injured.

This feeling scares me – it’s one I’ve never felt it before. Part of me is excited to see what my basketball future has in store, but there’s also another part of me that is ready to move on and try out something new. I love Europe. I love meeting new people, experiencing new cultures, exploring different cities and savoring each country’s uniqueness. I love playing basketball competitively and am fortunate enough to be paid to do so. Without sounding too conceited, I feel as though I’m just peaking as a player and am too good to stop. The thought of not returning to Europe is overwhelming and actually makes me feel somewhat queasy.

Basketball is a big part of me, but it doesn’t define who I am as a person. With a minimum of 4 months left here in L-bourg, I’ve got plenty of time to evaluate and decided what’s next. In the meantime I'll be keeping myself busy and continually expanding my options by traveling, taking 2 online Public Relations courses from BCIT and attending French classes, which begin at the end of January.

Basketball Update: It’s been exactly 3 weeks and 4 days since I sprained my MCL. I’ve been lifting weights (sans legs) and riding the stationary bike without any pain. Today I jogged around the court while the team practiced and ran a bunch of lines without any sharp turns. My knee feels pretty good aside from any lateral movement. I’m getting physio therapy every other day and I am hoping that in about 2.5 weeks I’ll be ready to take the court again. Wish me luck!

-BW

Doctors Orders

2009-12-20T06:47:00.011-08:00

Four days after going down with a knee injury, I was finally able to sigh with relief. My ACL was still intact and the news from the specialist was the best I could hope for.

Diagnosis? Slight tear of the MCL (severe sprain), no surgery, out 4-6 weeks. I'm somewhat lucky in the sense that this happened right before Christmas break. When I return to Luxembourg on January 2nd, it will be exactly 3 weeks since the injury. Hopefully after a week of rehab in Esch, I'll be close to re-taking the court. As difficult as it is sitting on the bench and watching, I have to remember that getting my knee back to 100% is most important. Before I start jumping for rebounds and taking it strong to the hoop, I need to have a strong, steady right knee underneath me.

As I've said numerous times before, I'm very lucky to be in such a great situation this year. Though the basketball isn't as competitive as the previous leagues I've played in, the people in Luxembourg have made my experience wonderful thus far. Basket Esch is a family. They care about me and have stuck by my side during this unfortunate injury. After going down, most teams would be looking for a new foreign player, while sending you home and cutting your salary for the rest of the season. In Esch, it's different. People socialize after games, call to see if you need anything and invite you over for dinners with their friends or families. Hanging out in our gym bar after a game is one of the highlights of my week. I'm able to get to know those around me, make new friends and continually build relationships with those I spend the most time with. Basket Esch has gone out of their way to make sure I'm comfortable and have what I need. After meeting with the club's President, Manager and committee this week, I was relieved to hear them say that they are sticking with me 100%. Basket Esch wants me back on the court at full strength in the New Year.

Though they've brought someone in the fill my shoes while I'm out of commission, the goal is for a mid-January return. That being said, this will be my last post of 2009. Here's to wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Happy Holidays and be sure to visit www.bwatson3.blogspot.com in 2010!

-Breanne

Sidenote: Last night my team and I celebrated our huge Cup victory over Steinsel (the same team we played when I injured my knee and lost to by 2 points). The win means we're in the Final 4 and will be playing in front 6,000+ fans in February! Allez-Esch!

(Knee)dless to Say…

2009-12-14T08:23:00.006-08:00

Injuries - they’re a part of the game. Whether you’re a recreational or competitive athlete, everyone has suffered through a bump, bruise, break or tear. I’ve been fairly fortunate throughout my basketball career, as I’ve never really suffered anything too serious. Sure I’ve sprained my ankles, jammed multiple fingers, broken my nose twice and dislocated both shoulders – but I’ve never had an injury that has required surgery or kept me away from the game I love for a long period of time. Injuries are scary and when someone goes down - competitor or not, I always pray they are able get back up and continue playing.

I’ve always said that my greatest fear was tearing my ACL. I’ve had friends and teammates alike go through this horrible experience. Whenever I hear someone has hurt a knee, I almost feel sick - hoping it’s nothing more than a sprain or hyperextension. If there is one thing I know as a high level athlete, it’s that hurting a knee is one of worst things that can happen to your body – the body you’ve worked so hard to build up for your selected sport.

Saturday was not a good day. Facing a team we defeated earlier in the season by 24, I was seriously injured minutes into the first quarter. Crashing the boards after a teammate’s shot, I jumped for the offensive rebound. Collecting it in the air, as I came down, my legs were taken out from under me. I landed awkwardly on my right heel and my knee gave out. Though I didn’t feel pain right away, I immediately knew something was wrong. My leg went hot and felt like jello. Lying on the floor, I took a few deep breaths and gathered myself. As I got up to walk, my knee collapsed under my body weight. This was when I lost it. With my biggest fear being a knee injury, I became uncontrollably emotional. Thinking the worst, I didn’t know what to do or how to react. Calming down as much as I could, our trainer tried to tape me up. Umm…no. There was no way I was getting back on the court. I told her I needed to go to the hospital ASAP. Leaving my team with 4 minutes remaining in the 1st quarter, they were on their own.

After an hour in emergency and finally seeing the doctor, I was told my x-rays were negative. Further poking and prodding of my knee had the doctor concluding that she didn’t think it was the ACL. Putting my mind at ease somewhat, any news was good news at that point. Next she molded a splint/brace to minimize leg movement and sent me off with a prescription for medication and crutches. MRI’s aren’t done on the weekends, so right now I’m mentally preparing for tomorrow’s MRI and the results the knee specialist will have Wednesday. Please send positive thoughts this way!

Of course the most important thing right now is the health of my knee. I want nothing more than the specialist to tell me that all I need is rest and ice and that I can return to the court in 2-4 weeks. However, the injury couldn’t have happened at a more inopportune time. First and foremost, we needed the win Saturday (ended up losing by 2. We were up 10, but unable to hold on for the W). Secondly, I had a flight booked Sunday morning to meet one of my close friends (Kelly McDonald, former UW gymnast and current Le Rêve performer at the Wynn Hotel) in London. We had been planning this trip for weeks and were going to spend 2 days exploring a city I’d never been to ($250 down the drain). And finally, we have a Cup game Wednesday against the same team we played Saturday. The winner goes to the semi-finals, which is a HUGE deal in Luxembourg. Over 6,000 people attend these games. I wanted nothing more than to be on the floor with the team, but sadly that won’t happen. I have faith that the girls will bring their ‘A’ game and play with everything they have to get the win.

Injuries unfortunately prove that like anything, professional basketball is a business. The moment it was determined I’d be out for at least a week, the club was on the phone looking for a new player to fill my spot for the next 2 games. Today the new foreigner arrived from Pennsylvania. Though her arrival puts me in a strange position, I’m hoping she can help the team to victory the next 2 games. We need these wins. Our manager has promised me that she is just here for the week. Based on the results of the MRI, my situation in Luxembourg is to be determined then. I believe Basket Esch cares about me and wants me to continue playing for them, but if I’m unable to, everything changes.

-BW

Tis the Season

2009-12-07T05:51:00.008-08:00

December – a month filled with Holiday cheer. A time of year where Coke commercials make you feel sentimental, Christmas tunes dominate every radio station and where a glass of hot spiced red wine has never tasted better. There’s nothing I love more than Christmastime. It may sound cliché, but there’s a feeling in the air. For me, the month has it’s own atmosphere and I can’t help but smile when seeing Christmas decorations, chubby men dressed as St. Nichols or a huge evergreen tree in the middle of the city center.

Each year I spend abroad during the Christmas season I notice the subtle differences countries practice during this time of year. From the type of decorations, to how a Christmas tree is presented - each has their own signature. The uniqueness is something I cherish. Every year I try to bring home a little part of the traditions I experience and incorporate them into celebrations with my family. I can’t think of a better time of year and there’s nothing like spending it with the ones you love. (2 more weeks!)

My favorite thing about December in Europe is Christmas Markets. I love them. Every season while overseas, I try to visit as many as I can. It’s not as though the shopping is great (most of the objects sold are things you would never need) it’s the environment, entertainment, decorations and food vendors that make them worthwhile. This year I’ve been to 3 different cities to attend markets and have enjoyed every single one of them. I wish we did something like this back home, but we don’t. Sure we have street fairs, exhibitions and craft markets, but nothing can quite compare to this holiday tradition practiced in Europe. Most run from December 1 until Christmas Eve, with the Europeans being king when it comes to this event. Strolling through the cool crisp air, viewing various booths with glühwein in hand is all I need to be in my happy place.

Saturday a friend and I drove 3 hours to Strasbourg, France to visit one of the most well known Christmas Markets in Europe. It’s been in existence since 1570 and has a reputation that has only grown over the years. During the month of December, Strasbourg’s city center shuts down for pedestrian traffic only. The amount of people walking around is insane! Every street is packed with bodies and booths – to the point that I had to use my boxing out skills to get by masses of people.

It’s easy to see why the city holds such high status. It’s unique and gorgeous. The city center looks as though you’ve entered a fairytale and is surrounded by a circular canal. Every building is distinctive and exudes it’s own character. You can’t help but pause every few steps when walking down the streets to take in the sights. All the decorations are simple yet classic and very tasteful. You’d be hard pressed finding a city that resembled Strasbourg. After spending a day full of Holiday spirit, gluwein, crepes and one too many sweets – I couldn’t help but think about my family and friends and how much I would of loved spending this day with them. Fourteen more days… ☺

Basketball Update: Last weekend we beat the 3rd place team on their home court in a hard fought battle. I think it was the best game we’ve ever played as a team and our defense was what won the game for us. It was a dogfight. I sprained my ankle in the 2nd quarter, but was able to tape it up tight for the rest of the game (don’t ask how it felt later). In the 4th, I was clocked in the nose with 8 minutes left in the game. Though we had a 20-point lead, the home team was experienced and I knew they could make a run to get back in the game at any moment. Running off the floor covering my gushing nose, I couldn’t get it to stop bleeding. I spent the rest of the game in the bathroom applying pressure and using ice while our physio ran back and forth updating me on the score. Thankfully, we pulled out the 8-point victory. Yesterday, we won another close game. It was probably the worst game I have played in a long time. Though my stats look good on paper, I didn’t rebound well, was fatigued the whole 40 minutes and missed too many FT’s. Our Belgian player and point guard really stepped up and had a huge games which was why we got the ‘W.’ Phewwww!

-BW

Prost!

2009-11-26T10:30:00.013-08:00

Never a beer drinker, the past couple years in Europe have changed that somewhat. From the day I entered high school until the day I graduated from college, I had never finished a bottle of beer. I couldn’t stand the flavor and never understood how people enjoyed the taste. It just wasn’t for me. Friends joked that I wasn’t a ‘true Canadian,’ because I hadn’t grown up savoring Molson Canadian, Kokanee or Labatt Blue.

However, as I’ve matured into a young adult, I’ve finally learned how to enjoy and appreciate the taste of beer. I don’t drink a lot, but when I do it’s usually in a group setting. I’m a social drinker who enjoys sharing a pitcher with friends, nursing a pint or two when out on the town or cracking one open after a long day or exhausting game...

Though Europe and North America share similarities, it’s their differences I’m always intrigued by. During my first season abroad, I couldn’t believe how accessible and free flowing alcohol was. Rarely will you find an enforced drinking age in European countries and if you do, it’s still likely to be ignored. Here, kids grow up in an environment where alcohol is a part of their surroundings. Sometimes I convince myself this could be a reason why you don’t hear about an excess of teenage alcohol related issues in Europe.

After 3 seasons abroad, I’ve finally taken note that the majority of the gyms I practice and play in all include a bar. The bar is open when the gym is open and if you feel like enjoying a drink, or two, or three - all the power to you. It’s commonplace and is a part of the everyday norm. No one is being judged and for the most part everyone is behaving in an acceptable manner. Business is especially booming before basketball (handball, volleyball, etc) games, where you’ll see groups of people enjoying drinks, only to come out again at half time for another and mingling over a few more when the match is over. Weekdays or weeknights - it’s a way of life. And at 2 Euros a beer, you're not breaking the bank. There is nothing wrong with this tradition, but it’s interesting seeing and experiencing something so different than what I’m used to.

Back in Canada and the US you’d be hard pressed to find parents sitting in a bar enjoying a drink, while they wait for their kid to finish karate practice in the gym down the hall. Even finding a bar connected to a sports facility would be close to impossible - unless of course you're at a professional arena like GM Place for a Canucks game or BC Place when the Lions are in town. Amateur sports? Never.

I’m no beer connoisseur, but since being in Luxembourg I’ve found that German/Lux/Belgian beers live up to the hype. They’re good. They have distinct tastes and it’s possible to enjoy a beer purely for the sake of enjoying a beer. After games I’ll find myself sitting at a table with friends, only to have the bartender come over and put down two cold ones right in front of me. Always confused, I try to explain I didn’t order anything. He always smiles and say “they did” pointing to a fan, friend or acquaintance somewhere in the room. It’s part of the lifestyle here and I'm living it, plus it seems silly to waste a perfectly good beer...

Basketball Update: Sunday we cruised to a victory over the team sitting in last place. However, these last couple of weeks have been very frustrating - as we don’t seem to be improving or working on our weaknesses. We still make the same mistakes and are giving up WAY too many points. We can score, but at some point you’ve got to make stops. Big game Saturday against one of the league leaders. It would be great to get a win.

-BW

Sidenote: Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends! I'm thankful for all of you!

Je ne parle pas Français!

2009-11-19T04:39:00.009-08:00

As child growing up in a bilingual country like Canada, I was forced at a young age to learn French. It began in grade 5 and to this day I can still remember the annoyance I felt when French period rolled around. Sure every food item, law and most signs in Canada are written in English and French, but never had I come across someone in B.C. who was a francophone, nor had I ever been in a situation that required me to speak French. I couldn’t understand why I was being forced to learn a language that would have no effect on my life.

As I endured classes from elementary through my senior year in high school, I gradually found myself reading and writing the language quite well and could understand 90% of what was being said to me. My oral skills weren’t as good as my written skill, but I was satisfied that I would be able to get by if need be. I remember having friends who attended French immersion schools and thinking how much it sucked to be them. Not only were they learning history, science, geography, etc in English, but in French as well. No thank you…

Surprisingly, after graduating high school, I found myself enrolling in university French classes. I figured they would be easy credits and would help keep my GPA high. After 2 years of Français at UW, I still wasn’t close to being fluent and eventually decided to drop the French in favor of other subjects.

As the years continued to roll by, I had yet to use my French skills at an advanced level and they slowly began to leave me. It wasn’t until this season that I wished my parents had enrolled me in French immersion and that I was fluent in the language. I always thought it would be cool to be bilingual, but language is difficult and not being surrounded by it and not having to practice it every day makes it tough to retain.

Each year I go abroad, I’m continually reminded of how ignorant I feel sometimes. Most Europeans speak a minimum of 2 languages and Luxembourg is no exception. The majority of the population can speak at least 4 languages. It’s incredible and extremely impressive. If I thought mastering 2 was a feat, these people are on completely different level. Luxembourg has 3 official languages: French, German and Luxembourgish. Aside from these 3, most speak English as well. However, it makes sense, as Luxembourg is such a small country and is surrounded by Germany, Belgium and France. The diversity of people in the city is great and as stated in an earlier blog, thousands of people commute everyday from all 3 countries for work.

I’m lucky in a sense that the laws in Luxembourg (signs, food items, etc) all must be written in French. If there is one thing I know, it’s that I can read French quite well - so I don’t find myself getting lost or confused as much as I have in other countries. (Reading the back of the cereal boxes every morning finally paid off!) In addition, my comprehension is very high. When people speak French around me or to a group, I find myself understanding most of what is being discussed. At first teammates, fans and friends alike were surprised when I answered a question they posed in French. It was funny – they assumed I was like every other American (Canadian) who had played for the team and didn’t understand or care to learn a lick of French. My Belgian teammate does not speak Luxembourgish, so I’ve asked her to speak to me in French whenever we converse. When I respond, she corrects my mistakes. As my confidence improves and pronunciation progresses, I find myself speaking French more and more – whether it’s at the grocery store, coffee shop or with my elderly neighbor who I swear spies on me and makes sure I close the door every time I enter our apartment building ☺. I’m really not that good, but everyone has been so complementary when I greet them in French and answer their simple questions. By the end of the season, I’m hoping that I’ll have enough French, that I’ll be able to have a real conversation with a Luxembourgian or my friend from Montreal (get ready Liz!)

French is a beautiful language, one I hope I’ll eventually be able to master – but I’m not sure I see that happening. I’ve talked with one of our supporters about taking French courses while here and plan on enrolling in a class that begins in January. Until then, I guess I’ll just have to meet a sweet talking Frenchman that will make conversation that much easier!

Basketball Update: Last weekend we won a must win game to keep us in the top 6 of our league. In December, the top 6 teams move and continue playing for the championship, while the bottom 6 play out and fight to stay in the first division. Yesterday we played a cup game and managed a hard fought victory over a team Basket Esch had lost to before I arrived. Sunday we play another must win game. Last night was a very physical game – especially inside. I felt pretty beat up today, so the plan is to take care of the body these next couple days and prepare for the big game this weekend.

Au revoir!

-BW

Hands Off!

2009-11-13T07:55:00.008-08:00

It’s every sport junkie’s favorite time of year. The time of season where there is never a shortage of sports broadcasts found on the TV and radio; where the sports section of your daily paper is overflowing with game results and statistics and where good natured team trash talk starts to escalate.

With an exciting conclusion to the MLB season, comes the beginning of college basketball madness. The NBA too is now underway, while NHL teams are just starting to gain momentum. Week to week, every battle on the gridiron is played like it’s the last - as crunch time starts to bear down on NFL and college football teams.

Somewhat of a closet sports junkie myself, it’s hard being on another continent, away from the action of the North American professional sports. Trying to follow basketball, football and even hockey, (Go Canucks Go!) can be a struggle. The chance of catching a college basketball or (American) football game on television is a big zero. They simply don’t broadcast these sports on this side of the Atlantic. Here any kind of futbol is king, as is Euroleague basketball. This is what dominates the local EuroSport television channels. People don’t really know or care about US college sports teams and why should they?

The NBA however, is somewhat familiar to sports enthusiasts abroad. With the continuing trend of European players leaving Europe for the NBA, the league has caught on to an extent. But truth still remains, you have to be a hardcore Lakers/Celtics/Cavs fan, etc to watch the games live; games that often don’t tip off until 3am. Like any competitive athlete, you have to be willing to put in the time and effort to follow your favorite team or sport, which is a dedication I just don’t have time for.

I still read the sports section everyday and religiously check gohuskies.com for game results, but rarely do I take the time to surf the net and break down game results and player statistics. I’ve come to accept that I’m somewhat out of the loop when I’m living my second life in Europe.

My life in Europe is different than the one in North America. The change of scenery and missing comforts of home are replaced with new adventures and experiences, as well as introduction to new sports. Each season I return, I inevitably find myself rooting for a new team in a sport I never knew existed or never had the passion to follow. In Finland and Sweden it was floorball, (wait, let’s clarify…I was never a fan of floorball, but was interested in learning about and watching the game) in Portugal I uncovered my hidden passion for futbol (soccer) and now in Luxembourg I’ve become a dedicated handball fan…

Most Wednesday/Friday nights you’ll find me in a gym cheering for the Differdange Red Boys. This has created some confusion among my teammates and Basket Esch supporters. A few weeks ago the Red Boys came to Esch to play and in their mind, I was clearly rooting for the wrong team. I’m a very loyal person – I think it’s one of my best traits, however, I have no ties to the Esch handball players and therefore dodn’t feel guilty about not rooting for them. The Red Boys however, employ a lot of the guys I hang out with here in Luxembourg - therefore I choose to support people I know and like to see do well. In addition, the captain of the Red Boys happens to be my Belgian teammate’s boyfriend. We often attend games together and yell randomly at the referees. Most of the time I have no idea what is going on and since I shout out in English, most people don’t pay me any attention. I’m pretty sure I’m the least of their worries, as handball games can get pretty rowdy. Fans are intensely supportive of their teams and games are highly attended. Add that to the fact beer is sold throughout the match and you have a dangerous combination of testosterone, alcohol and team allegiance. Last game I attended there was a fight on the court between the two teams and fans started throwing things on the floor. Only in Europe…

From the games I’ve watched so far, I must say I’ve gained a certain amount of respect for the sport. Handball is a brutally physical game. The players are strong, quick and have great hand/eye co-ordination. They sacrifice their bodies on every play and are not afraid to show their emotion. Not only that, their fitness level is very high – you’re not going to see any overweight guys playing this sport. Games are divided into two 30-minute halves, with stoppage of play being rare. The court is larger than a basketball court (40m X 20m) and when the whistle blows, players quickly look to the ref for the call and continue on. It’s an interesting sport. Even though I still don’t fully understand some of the rules and strategy that is involved, it’s entertaining.

Basketball Update: Last week we lost a heartbreaker to Etzella. We should of won, but stupid mistakes in the last 5 minutes determined the result. I have to remind myself that we are a very young team, but it still doesn’t dull the taste of losing. I had a good game, but without the ‘W’ it doesn’t mean much. Sunday we have an important match against Racing – it’s a must win, so we better do just that!

Sidenote: Be sure to click here and check out the great feature on my brother in the weeks Vancouver Province. So proud of him!

-BW

My Big Fat Athenian Adventure

2009-11-05T12:49:00.020-08:00

With a win in the bag and 4 days off, I immediately started scouring the Internet for an affordable travel destination. After shuffling through the numerous countries and cities in my head, I eventually decided on Athens.

I’ve always wanted to travel to Greece - it’s been on the list for quite some time. Plus, it didn’t hurt that close friend Lindsey Wilson was playing for Panathinaikos with former UW teammate, Giuliana Mendiola. Not to mention former UW volleyball star, Sanja Tomasevic, was also playing volleyball for the same club! Needless to say, my decision came quite easy.

The following morning I was up bright and early and on my way to Frankfurt Airport. Thank goodness for GPS, or I probably would of ended up lost in some remote German village…seriously. After 3 hours of my Twingo struggling to keep up with drivers on the Autobahn, I arrived in Frankfurt and was off to Athens!

Catching up on a few Z’s, I could barely contain my excitement as we descended into Greece. With only my bag on my back, I headed out of the arrivals terminal and managed to spot Sanja zooming around in her Smart Car. Waving her down, I jumped in and we shared a huge hug. It’d been 2+ years since we’d seen each other last. I don’t think there was a moment of silence as we updated one another on our respective travel and lives. Picking up right we were left off, I knew I was going to have a fabulous weekend.

Thirty minutes later, we parked the Smart and hollered up to Lindsey’s balcony. Once buzzing us in, the 2 of us shared a big hug. It was great to see her! Catching up quickly, the 3 of us were off to the gym for Linds' Panathinaikos team practice. While Linds, Giuli and teammates got their sweat on; Sanja and I continued to catch up on the sidelines. We couldn’t believe it…what are the chances of 3 former Huskies and a Seattleite being in Athens at the same place and time? Crazy!

Upon conclusion of practice, I chatted with Lindsay’s coach who convinced me to workout with the team while I was in town. The thought of sharing the court with Lindsey and Giuli was all it took and I told him I’d be in gear tomorrow. After the girls showered and dressed, we were off to Sanja’s to order in and plan out the next few days.

The following morning Lindsey was off to early practice, while I decided to see the sights. We planned on meeting back at her place later that afternoon. With guidebook in hand, I was on a mission to find the Acropolis, Parthenon and Ancient Agora among other things. I like to think I’m self-sufficient and after familiarizing myself with Central Athens, I decided my best bet was to start at the Acropolis and work from there. Four Euros lighter from a quick cab ride, I was at the foot of an overwhelming monument. There are some things that are hard to describe in life and I think the Acropolis is one of them. How was something so massive, intricate and beautiful built on top of a flat-topped rock before the invention of modern machinery? It’s amazing, one that should be appreciated. Wandering around with camera in hand, I couldn’t help but overhear all the American tourists complaining about the hike up to the monument…

After taking time to appreciate what I was looking at, I continued on to Ancient Agora and surrounding sights. I truly enjoyed myself and learned a thing or two about Greek history. Inevitably, my feet started to ache and I decided my 4-hour adventure needed to come to a close. It was time to head towards Lindsey’s apartment. Instead of taking a cab, I decided to hoof it back. As silly as it might sound, I believe that part of experiencing a country/city is not only taking in the sights, but also mingling with people in their everyday norm.

Double-checking my guidebook, I made a quick detour to check out the Greek Parliament buildings and City Centrum. Buttoning up my jacket as the weather started to turn, I stopped mid-stride when coming across not one, but 4 enormous Canadian flags flapping alongside the Greek flags in the wind. Completing a full 360° of my surroundings, I tried to figure out why the heck the red and white was being prominently displayed in front of the Greek Parliament buildings….Not being able to come up with a good explanation aside from my visit ☺, I exchanged hello’s (γειά σου, which despite what it looks like is pronounced yia-sas) with a nearby police officer, asking him if he spoke English. Pointing to the Canadian flags and telling him I was Canadian, I asked why the flags were on display. He smiled and stated that our President (correction Mr. Greek, Prime Minister) was visiting Athens to ‘light’ the Olympic flame and take it back to Canada for the Winter Olympics. Thanking him, I smiled and admired the maple leaf while it waved back in the wind.

Satisfied with the amount of photos I had taken, I walked through the Centrum and window shopped while buying a pastry from a nearby street vendor. Deciding I had conquered the ruins and downtown Athens, I now would start the trek back towards Lindsey’s apartment. This proved to be difficult. The saying “it’s all Greek to me” never rang truer. With most languages you can hear similarity in words or notice that they look familiar in their written form. With Greek, this is not the case. Nothing sounds or looks the same in Greek. The language though harmonious to the ear, is so confusing and complex that every time someone spoke to me, I turned red and could only stutter. Even worse was figuring out which direction to go when the street signs looked like Εθνικής Κατηγορίας or Ανδρών θα. Huh?! After wandering around for a good 20 minutes, I finally swallowed my pride and hailed a cab. Pointing to a map and using various hand motions, I was able to communicate with the driver and point out where I wanted to go. After numerous attempts at having a conversation, we gave up and exchanged smiles, laughing the remainder of the ride.

Finally back at Lindsey’s apartment, I showed her my pictures and described my day. After a quick bite we caught another cab with Lindsey’s teammates and headed to Glyfada, an upscale district where Sanja’s vball team plays home games. Sanja was a powerhouse and Pao was beating the opposing team so bad, she sat the 3rd set. The game wasn’t close, but nevertheless it was great to see Sanja pound the ball again.

Following the game Lindsey, Sanja, Lindsey’s teammate Jasmina, a men’s Pao player and I went for a traditional Greek dinner. I’ve always been a fan of Greek food, but this meal was on another level. It was fabulous! The atmosphere was great as was the company. As the meal drew to a close, our waiter was clearing the table and knocked over a glass of red wine, spilling it all over me. I knew it was an accident and am not one to make a scene, but I was definitely annoyed. Since I was traveling light – more than half my clothes were useless for the rest of the trip! Red face and embarrassed he could barely make eye contact. I took a deep breath, smiled and told him it was no problem. After I did what I could to salvage my wardrobe, the waiter returned and surprised us with a complementary desert platter and shots of Ouzo for everyone. I suddenly became a table favorite! Full from a fabulous meal and surrounded by great people and conversation – I couldn’t imagine Greece getting much better than this!

The next morning Linds and I were up early for practice. A bit nervous to play with girls I didn’t know, I decided to do what I normally do - smile and play hard. I made fast friends and ended up playing great. Apparently Lindsey’s coach was impressed and made sure I wrote down the correct spelling of my name on a piece of paper. He said he would help me get into Greece next season and really liked the type of player I was. I thanked him and said I’d see him tomorrow. After showering and changing, Linds borrowed Sanja’s Smart Car to take me on a city tour. It was neat driving down the narrow alleys and seeing parts of the city most tourists don’t experience. We eventually made our way to Panathinaikon Stadium and parked for a quick photo op. The site was amazing and is the only major stadium in the world built entirely of white marble. Built in 329 B.C., it was used in the 1896 Olympics as well as the 2004 games. Awesome! Finally, we were off to Lykavittas Hill – which in my opinion is the best site in Athens. The view is indescribable. You can see the whole city, all the way to the Aegean Sea. Linds and I sat at the top and took in the view for a good 20 minutes without saying a word.

Checking off the last 2 must see’s on my list, it was back to the apartment to get ready for a gathering at a Marousi men’s player’s apartment. Always Debbie Homemaker, Lindsey whipped up a pot of chili and cornbread for the occasion. After testing it out more than a few times, we were on our way. Arriving at Jared’s, I couldn’t believe the size of his apartment – it was enormous! Men’s basketball is huge in Greece and the players are paid accordingly. That was obvious as I took in Jared’s humble abode. NBA players have actually spurned the NBA to play in Greece, most notably Josh Childress, Juan Dixon and Linas Kleiza.

The night was a huge success and I found it hard to believe what a small world I live in. Here was Lindsey Wilson from Seattle who played at Iowa State, dealing cards to Jared Homan who also played at Iowa State. Both former stars at the University of Washington, Sanja and Giuli were discussing which song should be played next on the speakers. And finally, I myself was catching up with Levon Kendall who also hails from Vancouver, BC and grew up just 20 minutes from my home. It blows my mind sometimes who you meet while abroad.

After dinner and wine, we ended up playing a variety of fun games from poker to charades and others that kept people laughing. In addition to the Seattle/Iowa/Vancouver connection, there were various models in town from NYC and numerous men’s players that stopped by through the night. It was a great evening, one that ended up with me freestyle rapping – only because Athena convinced me to do it!

Waking up to a loud alarm, Linds and I were up early the next day to lift weights. Satisfied after the workout, we had lunch at great crepe place and recounted the events from the previous night. That afternoon I again practiced with the team and continued to impress. It was great being able to get a run in with a friend and old teammate. With the competitive juices flowing, I found myself paired with Giuli – our sole goal? Beat Lindsey every single time…☺

Upon completion of practice, we drove up to Lykavittos Hill to once again admire the view. It’s completely different at night. When the Acropolis is lit up, the city comes alive – it’s beautiful. With that, Lindsey, Giuli and I headed to the Exarhia district for my last supper. We found a cute place surrounded by graffiti covered walls, where we enjoyed another fabulous meal. Noticing the people next to us speaking English, Lindsey asked them if they were American. Sure enough they were – and all from Seattle! Two were WSU grads, but I didn’t hold it against them. ☺ I’m amazed how the world works sometimes. After a quick chat, it was back to Sanja’s for a final goodbye. The rest of the evening was spent recounting our adventures and figuring out a way for us all finding our way back to Greece next season…

-BW

Shifting Gears

2009-10-26T10:57:00.014-07:00

I’ve been driving since the age of 16 and to this day have a perfect driving record. I consider myself a good driver; though I may be a bit heavy on the gas pedal at times, behind the wheel I’m relaxed and err on the side of caution – especially when I don’t know the abilities of those I’m sharing the road with.

Whether I was borrowing one of my parent’s cars, a friend’s or driving around in my own - I’ve never had to think. I’d turn the ignition key, throw it into drive and be on my way. Driving is easy. Of course you have to be alert and cautious, but not a lot of brainpower is required to maneuver a vehicle from point A to point B.

Now that I’m back across the Atlantic, I sometimes find myself over thinking when I’m behind the wheel. Almost everywhere you go in Europe you’ll find that 90% of the vehicles on the road are powered by manual transmission. I couldn’t tell you why, but it’s just the way it is. It’s the type of vehicle people learn to drive in and is the type of vehicle they will likely drive the rest of their lives. In all my years of driving, I had never experienced a situation where I had to drive a stick shift, so it never crossed my mind. Sure I knew manual transmission existed, but naïvely believed it only occurred in tractors, old cars and Mustangs. Since I don’t live on a farm and never plan on owning a Ford, I figured I was fine…

This isn’t the first season I’ve been offered a car, but it was the first season I accepted the offer. In previous years I was scared off by the thought of being an inexperienced stick shift driver in a foreign country. I didn’t want to think about punching down on a clutch while changing gears or stalling at a light and holding up traffic. In addition, I found no desire to drive through the snow in Finland and Sweden or coerce a car up the extremely steep hills of Madeira Island. These were no win situations and I instead asked for monthly bus passes and hoofed it everywhere else.

This year however, I was on a mission – a mission to be able to drive a car with a clutch. The first step was finding a friend who had manual transmission in their car, something I thought would be no easy feat. Surprisingly, I found 3 right away. All were kind enough to take me out for few lessons each – lessons that may or may not have been filled with profanity, steering wheel abuse and some very red faced, embarrassed passengers who were trapped with me when stalled at a stop signs or green lights. (Thanks Tay, Erin and Alex!)

Each session I got a bit better and my confidence increased. After driving around with my neighbor for a week and him breaking down how a manual system works and why you have to change gears, I assured myself I’d be fine driving around Central Europe - unless of course I came across a steep hill...I’ll avoid those for the time being!

Once landing in Luxembourg, I immediately had a new set of keys in hand. Now it was just me, my Twingo and the open road. Large enough to just barely contain my 6’1” frame, the Twingo gets me around town without trouble. However, this wasn’t always the case. The first time I attempted to take it on a ride I noticed something missing…the clutch! Brake pedal – check, gas pedal – check, cd player – check, gear shift – check, clutch….uhhh….where’s the clutch??? Confused in how a stick shift car would work without a clutch, I decided driving Flintstones style might be easier than figuring out how my new whip worked. After 10 minutes of staring at my feet, I finally called Pit (our team secretary) and explained my problem. He quickly described that the car was a semi-automatic and instead of having a clutch, you just had to release the gas pedal as you switched gears. It sounded easy enough and thankfully it was. After a couple of bumpy test-drives to get the kinks out, I was on the road again.

Surprisingly, the biggest adjustment hasn’t been the driving, but the rules of the road. Signage, street markings and lights are all very different to what I’m used to. Yield and Stop are the same, however, others are confusing - to the point that at times I’m unsure if it means do not enter or no parking. But I’m adjusting…slowly.

Switching gears, (sorry, couldn't resist...) I still can’t get over how friendly the people of Luxembourg have been to me. Everyone I have met has gone out of his or her way to make me feel comfortable and welcome. These are the times that I wish I were fluent in French, so I could verbalize exactly how thankful I am for their generosity and kindness. In this past week alone I was invited over to 3 different houses for traditional Luxembourg meals and a wonderful company. And last night after our game, my Belgian teammate invited me out with her boyfriend and 4 of their good friends. I felt like I was crashing an intimate gathering – but she insisted and I ended up fitting in and having a great time!

As I continue to develop relationships, I find myself driving to various towns around Luxembourg to hang out and socialize. Since everything in the country is ’20 to 30 minutes’ away, I’ve already found my way to Luxembourg City, Foetz (for bowling), Differdange (teammate’s house) and Walferdange (American men’s player for poker and baseball games). As I get more comfortable with the rules of the road I plan to make road trips to Trier (GER), Koln (GER), Bruge (BEL), Brussels (BEL) and various destinations in France. The above cities are a 2 hour drive or less from where I live!

Basketball Update: We had a tough weekend, facing 2 of the top teams in our league. Friday we upset Dudelange and Sunday we fell to league leader Musel Pikes. I had 2 solid games, though have been really sick - to the point that I haven't been able to sleep more than 4 hours at a time. After a visit to the doctor, medication and lots of rest, only today am I finally starting to feel human again. I couldn’t believe how fatigued I felt on the court. My body had just run out of energy. Nevertheless, it's time to bounce back this week.

-BW

Here We Go Again…

2009-10-18T12:04:00.008-07:00

As summer turned to fall and the warm weather started to chill, I once again found myself packing my life into 2 bags. Another signed contract, another new team and another 7 months in a foreign land.

This is my life in a nutshell. And I love it. I love change. I love meeting new people. I love assimilating to new cultures and learning about different parts of the world as I travel it. I’m fortunate that my job takes me different places and that I get to experience new things everyday. At times it’s tough and can be lonely, but those moments are few and far between. For the most part, I wake up every morning excited to see what awaits and what I will discover that day.

Preparing to leave this season was different than the past 2. I wasn’t nervous. I was just ready to go. It was that time of year. As I set foot on the plane I had only one regret and that was that I didn’t get to spend my last days at home with my parents. As fate would have it, they were traveling Australia - while I was signing a contract, jamming my bags full of necessities and jumping on a plane to another continent.

The 9-hour flight was quite uneventful, other than being trapped in a window seat next to two very large men. Having to go the bathroom more than once, I decided to pass on drinks. I didn’t have the heart to wake them or negotiate room out of my small crevasse. Once landing in Amsterdam, I set foot to my final gate and prepared for the flight to Luxembourg; a quick hour on a 20-seat “city hopper.” Never a fan of small planes, I gritted my teeth as we bounced through the air, exhaling with relief when the wheels finally hit the pavement.

While the plane was descending into Luxembourg City (the largest city in the country with approximately 80,000 people), I found myself looking out the window searching for the downtown core. Turns out, I was looking at it! I’ve been here less than a week, but have quickly learned that just like on a map, everything is small in Luxembourg – even the ‘big’ city!

Collecting my bags, I walked into the arrivals hall hoping someone would recognize me and be there to pick me up. Sure enough the team’s secretary, Pit, welcomed me with a big smile. With my bags packed in his car, I was off to my new life in Esch-sur-Alzette. Conversing most of the ride, I learned that everything in Luxembourg is ’20-30 minutes away.’ The country is only 82km (51 miles) long and 57km (35 miles) wide, making a commute anywhere fairly easy. So easy, that people from France, Belgium and even Germany cross the borders everyday to work in Luxembourg. Approximately 40% of the people that live in Luxembourg are foreigners. An amazing statistic if you think about it.

After signing my playing license at Federation Headquarters, it was off to my apartment to settle in. This season I have my own flat and it’s really nice; queen size bed, washing machine/dryer, entertainment center and fully loaded kitchen. Everything I could need or want is available to me. On top of that, I found my fridge fully stocked, bed made up and every room squeaky clean. Very professional. With my bags unloaded, Pit handed me a set of keys and pointed out the window to my car. Like everything in Luxembourg, it’s small – only rivaling a Smart Car in size. Everyone stares with jealousy when I drive around town in my Renault Twingo… Thank goodness I’m not a couple inches taller, or I might not fit! Nevertheless, it gets me from point A to point B, so it’s all I need.

As Pit left, he reminded me that practice was in 2 hours. I always find it funny that no matter where you are in Europe, you’re always asked to practice within hours of landing. Forget the day of travel you just endured, the fatigue that is setting in and jet lag that won’t dissipate – get out there on the court and perform! What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger I guess… After 45-minute power nap and a jolt of caffeine, I mustered enough energy work up a sweat and meet my new team.

Before arriving in Luxembourg, my biggest concern was not having an American teammate to converse and share the experience with. The past 2 seasons I have had awesome American/Canadian teammates to rely on and go through the adventure with, two of which are still close friends of mine to this day. How would I manage this season without someone in the same position? I can’t really explain how fortunate I am. Some players go abroad and have horrific experiences - unprofessional organizations, insufficient living conditions, broken contracts and teammate segregation of foreigners and nationals. However, I’ve been lucky to have only been in great situations. As stated earlier, though I’ve been here since Tuesday, I can say this club ranks high as far as professionalism. I know will be treated well with Basket Esch. If I had any worry about not having an American by my side this year, it was quickly erased when I met my new team, club administrators and people surrounding the organization. Everyone I have met has been SO friendly and considerate. It’s almost overwhelming. Sometimes it’s tough adjusting to a new environment, especially when you don’t know anyone and don’t have any friends. It sounds corny, but I immediately felt welcomed and that people cared about me. Though shy at first, my teammates and I quickly developed a rapport that had me joking and speaking to them in fragmented French. The team is divided in the sense that including me, there are 6 ‘older’ girls ranging from 24-31, with the rest being very young (ages 16-20 years old). This is fairly typical of most European clubs and I don’t think it will be a problem within our team. So far, we get along quite well.

The ‘older’ girls are awesome. We hit it off right away and they’ve already invited me to various events, meals and friendly gatherings. I’ve met many people in my short time here and already see my social calendar filling up. I couldn’t be more grateful. From handball games to Oktoberfest and trips to Luxembourg City with fast friends, I’m finding myself busy, and it’s only just begun…

Basketball Update: Just 4 days in and Basket Esch has its first victory, a 90-66 decision over Amicale Steinsel. It was a good win for us and important for team chemistry. Since I’m new to the team, we need to get comfortable playing with one another. I thought we did a good job of that and after working out a few kinks in practice this week, I think the team has a lot of potential - it’s exciting! Stat line: 22pts 14rbs 5stls and most importantly, the ‘W!’

-BW

Leaving for Luxembourg!

2009-10-08T14:55:00.010-07:00

After months of deliberation and several different offers, I finally signed the dotted line and found myself the newest member of Basket-Esch of Esch-sur-Alzette, Luxembourg!

Bordered by France, Belgium and Germany, this small country will be my home for the next 7 months. I'm both excited and nervous as I embark on this new chapter of my life. I can't wait to share my thoughts and adventures as I live, travel and play basketball in the world's only sovereign Grand Duchy.

I hope you'll follow me and visit www.bwatson3.blogspot.com time to time as I post every week about my experiences.

Breanne

Sidenote: Click on images for a larger version.

My First Tri

2009-08-30T21:54:00.005-07:00

After 6 solid months of intense basketball in Portugal, I returned home to Vancouver and decided it was time to take a break. Allowing my body to recover somewhat, the plan was to keep my offseason training as low impact as possible. Instead of insuring my car, I depended on my road bike and two feet for transportation. Since my hometown of Richmond is very flat and easy to navigate on two wheels, I found myself rediscovering the city – while cycling close to 100km (62miles) a week. In addition to biking to and from work, I ran almost 3 miles a day.

Feeling great, the thought of entering a sprint triathlon crept into my head. I’ve always wanted to compete in one and since I felt comfortable running and spending time on my bike, why not train for the swim? This inevitably led me to the pool. I’ve never really been a swimmer. Sure, I took swim lessons as a youngster, but never swam lengths competitively or for fun; until injuring my achilles in Madeira. There, I spent 3 days a week at the pool re-teaching myself the proper technique while keeping my cardio base in place. Figuring I’d be able to pick up where I left off, I started attending the length swim at the local pool whenever I had free time.

Working hard to convince my friend Julie to train with me, we set up a schedule to swim a minimum of 1000m three times a week. Decked out Dara Torres style, the two of us looked the part and were training to fulfill a fraction of that role. After 3 weeks in the pool, Julie and I convinced ourselves we were ready. (Note to future triathletes: open water swimming is VERY different than swimming in a pool...)

August rolled around and after registering in June, triathlon weekend had finally arrived. Raring to go, Julie and I loaded up her jeep and pumped the tunes during our 2-hour trek to Harrison Hot Springs, BC. Leaving a day before the event, we wanted to scout out the course before tackling it the following morning.

Arriving mid-afternoon in Harrison, we were greeted by overcast skies and a chilly breeze. With the lake reflecting the dark clouds, the water looked anything but inviting. Searching for the athlete check-in, Julie and I must have spent close to 30 minutes driving around the one stoplight town. Unsure of what to do next, we decided to grab coffee and sit on the patio while trying to warm our bare arms and legs. Discussing strategy (read: survival) for the triathlon, the two of us started to get excited when realizing we were on the brink of completing a pretty respectable athletic event. I will never run a marathon – those people are superhuman (a close 2nd to Ironman athletes) but a triathlon has always been right up there on my list.

After planning our attack for the following morning, it was time to get some questions answered. Entering the nearest hotel, we coincidently found the athlete check- in. It was here we learned the tri actually took place in Harrison Mills – a much smaller, lesser known town 20 minutes away. Alright...Gathering the info we needed, we were on the road again, this time to Harrison Mills to finally find the competition route.

For those of you who have never been to Harrison Mills – you’re not missing much. The fact that it is called a town is funny to me. It’s a street. There’s a convenience store, gas station, hotel and camp ground. That’s it. No houses – just wilderness and a 2 lane road. Stopping at the convenience store and then at the hotel to find more info about the triathlon, we were thrown for a loop. People working at both places had no idea what we were talking about. Interesting...Unsure of where to go or what to do next, we decided to keep driving and stopped at a corner store about 3 miles down the road. The owner was super friendly and despite being an extremely low talker, she was able to direct us across the lake to a gravel lot, stating it was where the triathlon was to take place. Without any other options, Julie and I continued on the narrow 2-laned highway.

Finding the campground, we drove past fifth wheel trailers, tents and makeshift shelters near the water’s edge. Finally, we had discovered the event’s start without the help of any signage or useful direction. Taking a deep breath and looking out on the water, I took a few minutes to appreciate the beauty of the lake, mountains and trees around us. Yet another example of why it’s no secret my Province is called beautiful British Columbia.

Spotting the transition zone near the water, Julie and I walked to the edge and tested out its warmth, or rather – lack of. The lake was FREEZING! Advertised at 70 degrees Fahrenheit, it must have been 40 degrees – and that’s being generous! As if we weren’t already nervous about the swim, the temperature of the water had us second guessing our water skills.

Shaking out the negative thoughts, we noticed a familiar car pull up – one we had seen in the same places as us all day. It turned out to be another athlete who also was searching for the start line. Being the joker that I am, I made some comment to break the ice and share a laugh, but this lady was having none of it. Too serious in her top of the line attire and super expensive Trek bike she smirked, ignored me and acted as if we didn’t exist. We were the only two people there! Wow...clearly she was too elite an athlete to speak to us. With the evening starting to creep in, Julie and I decided to return to Harrison Hot Springs and fuel up with a carb-loaded spaghetti dinner; one that turned out to be a complete rip-off. Seventeen dollars and one minimal scoop of pasta later we were still hungry, having to stop at Subway before spending the night at our friend Carrie’s parent’s house in Agassiz. Race day tomorrow!

Up bright and early the next morning, I could barely eat, as butterflies filled my stomach. With our bikes loaded, swimsuits on and gear in order, we were off to Harrison Mills one last time.

Parking near the water’s edge, athletes of all ages, shapes and sizes started to arrive. After setting up our bikes and change of clothes in the 1st transition zone, we pumped ourselves up in the jeep by listening to house music. Busting out some involuntary dance moves and a couple impromptu raps to ease the nerves, after a sip of liquid courage, we were ready to go.

Lined up and heading into the lagoon, people starting screaming as their bare skin touched the water. Seriously! It was with great difficulty that I waded in waist deep. Once at chest level, the water literally took my breath away. It was so cold that I couldn’t help but involuntarily exhale when submerging my head. With approximately 5% of athletes wearing wetsuits, cries rang out almost the whole 400m of the swim. It was that cold! Finally warming up and finding a rhythm, I powered out the last 200m and was probably one of the first 15 people out of the water. So far, so good!

Running into the transition zone, I felt confident. The worst part was over and I was on to the 20k (12 mile) ride. Hopping on my bike, I knew this leg was going to be my strongest one. Hammering down on the pedals, I started to pass men and women alike. Being the competitor I am, I felt a surge of adrenaline shoot through my veins, realizing I was in the hunt!

During the rolling climb on a quiet freeway, I got lost in my surroundings. Here I was on a beautiful day looking out at a gorgeous lagoon, immense green trees and towering mountains. I wish I could have videoed the ride. It was so beautiful that I barely realized I was sweating, breathing hard and grinding out a challenging ride. Keeping pace with an athletic looking lady in a purple swimsuit, I was in the zone.

During the last 2 miles, I took a sip of water and accidently dropped my bottle. Deciding to turn around, stop and grab it before continuing on, I lost about 20 seconds. It was during these 20 seconds that ‘Trek bike’ (the rude lady we had met the previous day) looked at me as she passed and smirked. Oh heck no! It was on! There was no way the woman was going to beat me to the line. Now serious, I decided to drift on her back tire, staying close enough but deciding not to pass quite yet. I wanted to burn her in the run.

Finally entering the 2nd transition zone, I quickly changed and was off and running. As I started into the incline of the 5km (3 mile) run, I busted pass ‘Trek bike,’ staring her down and giving her a smirk in the process. Now I just had to make sure she didn’t pass me before the line. Settling on a good pace, I again took in the fabulous view and started passing men and women alike. (Note: there is nothing better than passing a young, fit, athletic male. It does wonders for your confidence!) Thinking the bike was going to be my strong point, I felt awesome during the run and started to make up more ground. Once again I was setting pace with the lady in the purple swimsuit. We ran together for about half a mile, chatting how we seemed to be on the same level. Finally, she kicked it in gear and headed off after wishing me luck.

With about a mile left in the run, I put the hammer down. Tired and starting to run out of gas, I wanted to finish strong. As I sprinted toward the finish line, I was boosted by the cheers of the crowd. One hour and 23 minutes later (15th place overall, 6th place in the women’s division out of 100 participants) – I was a triathlete! Tired, but on an endorphin high – I grabbed some Gatorade and ran back to the finish to cheer on my friend Julie. About two minutes after I crossed the line, I saw ‘Trek bike’ lady closing in. Making sure to plant myself in her line of sight as she finished, I flashed her a sarcastic grin as she made eye contact and acknowledged defeat. I couldn’t help but think, “who's laughing now?” As Julie closed in on the line, I yelled words of encouragement. We’d done it! Collecting our medals, t-shirts, water and bananas, we hugged at the line with smiles plastered on our faces. Whoo!

I thought competing in a triathlon was a huge accomplishment, but the most memorable part was experiencing how supportive and friendly people were during the race. Almost every athlete and fan smiled, offered words of encouragement and cheered each other on. It was a great atmosphere. The thing that really made me smile was seeing every type of person competing in the event. From old to young, big to small – it didn’t matter the background, we were all there for the same reason – to conquer a triathlon. What an awesome thing to be a part of. Next summer – Olympic distance! (1.5k [0.93m] swim, 40k [25m] bike, 10k [6.2m] run.)

If you’ve ever thought about doing a triathlon, I highly recommend it. It’s probably one of my proudest accomplishments. The feeling after crossing that line is unlike anything else.

-BW

That's All She Wrote

2009-04-30T06:58:00.001-07:00

It may sound cliché, but all good things do come to an end. Facing elimination in the semi-finals last Saturday, we came out large and in charge – beating Vagos by 20 points. It was great getting back on track and evening up the series. The victory forced a game 3 to be played the following day (Sunday), with the winner punching a ticket to the finals.

Unfortunately, a win wasn’t in the cards for us. Maintaining a lead the entire game and up 8-points with 5 minutes remaining, we started to play scared and much too conservative. Unforced turnovers, stupid shots and lackadaisical defense allowed Vagos back in the game, as they evened the score at 54 with 30 seconds to play. Holding the last possession with 18 seconds on the clock and in the bonus, I knew if Casey or I got the ball in our hands we would win the game. However, neither of us touched the rock on the final possession and the set play for our guards didn’t allow us to get a shot up. Overtime. I got a bad feeling in my stomach when Vagos hit a 3 on their first possession. We traded baskets for most of 5 minutes, but sadly were one shot short when the final buzzer sounded. Heartbreaking and disappointing are words that come to mind. It was our game to lose and we did just that. I won’t be surprised if Olivais dispatches Vagos in 3 straight.

After somewhat getting the bitter taste of defeat out of my mouth, I find it hard to believe my life in Portugal is coming to a close. Six and a half months of hard work, aches and pains are over. Though not reaching the result I had hoped for, I find myself emotional at the thought of leaving this beautiful island Monday night. Normally at the end of a season, foreign players can’t wait to get home. Though I miss family and friends, I’m really sad to be leaving Madeira and all the great people I’ve developed relationships with here. I’ve met friends I hope to keep for life and can’t believe ‘the crew’ won’t be going out together for Karaoke night at Cup & Cino, hitting up the Irish bar for live music, eating at our 3 favorite restaurants, unwinding at the spa, laying out at the beach or dancing the night away at Copa Cabana and Klub Kool. It doesn’t seem real and it’s hard to see this chapter of my life come to a close. I’ve been fortunate in my overseas situations thus far, but can’t imagine the next stop being much better than this. I’ve found a friend for life in Casey, who I plan to keep in close touch with for a long time and became very close with the men’s players. Life goes on and people go their separate ways. That’s one of the hardest things about being a professional athlete abroad - knowing you probably won’t ever see the people you’ve developed close relationships again.

That being said, I thought I would share the highs and lows of my season spent in Funchal, Madeira, Portugal.

Highs:

• Living on an island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean where it was warm and sunny for almost all 6 months. During my time here, it probably rained a total of one week.
• Discovering Chinesas (Portuguese coffee with steamed milk) and thus my new love for coffee.
• The men’s team and the friendships I developed with both the American and Portuguese players. I’m going to especially miss spending time with Jason, Bobby, Lance and David.
• Cup & Cino Monday night Karaoke.
• The beautiful views I woke up to every morning. Wait, let me rephrase that – the beautiful views period. Madeira is gorgeous.
• Laying out on the sand lacking beaches (Madeira is a volcanic island – thus every beach is a rock beach).
• Fresh baked pastries and breads. These are dangerous, but you can’t help but have one…or two a day. From pastel de nadas to bolo de cacos – mouth-watering carbs could be found at any of the numerous cafes lining every street.
• Santa Cruz spa – where we basically got in for free any time we wanted.
• My Portuguese teammates. They’re really nice girls who went out of their way to make me feel comfortable in this foreign country. Also, Juca and Carlos – not only were they my coaches, but they became my friends.
• Um…Bongo – an amazing flavored juice that might actually rival Jussi Juice from Finland.
• Carrot soup – can’t say I’ve ever had it until arriving in Portugal. It quickly became a favorite!
• Stradivarius - pretty sure I spent a good chunk of my paycheck at this clothing store every month. Fashionable clothing with a great Eurostyle that I sadly won’t find at home.
• Moynihans Irish Bar - our go to hangout, where we’d often go just to get out of the house. We became close with 2 of the bartenders (one from South Africa, one from New Zealand) and will miss spending time with them every week.
• Kool Klub – the best dance club on the island that played live and classic American music.
• Placing second in the league while also giving league champions Olivais their only 2 losses of the season.
• The double-cheek hello/goodbye kiss.
• Fresh fruit and veggies from the farmers market.
• Cobblestone streets, historic buildings, old statues and timeless monuments.
• Casey Nash – a great person, teammate and friend. The things we’ve done, places we’ve seen and laughs we had are priceless. I truly hope this is a friendship that lasts a lifetime.

Lows:

• Not being on the mainland, making travel to different countries/cities very difficult/costly.
• Losing a heartbreaker in the semi-finals, knowing we deserved to be in the championship.
• Not having a car on this extremely mountainous island. We walked almost everywhere as we often missed our buses by minutes.
• Boggling (a word we made up – basically hiking at an extremely slow pace b/c of the steep inclination) up our massive hill everyday 2+ times a day.
• The refereeing in Portugal.
• Smoking and smokers EVERYWHERE. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that British Columbia does not allow smoking in public places. Here I felt like I smoked a pack every time I went out.
• Sloooooow internet.
• Our practice slot from 9 -11pm every night. Ugh.
• Having extremely irritated achilles for most of the season. I’m convinced it was a result of all our steep hill walking. Surprisingly this past month the pain just disappeared. Weird, but great!
• Cockroaches and centipedes somehow always finding ways into our house.
• Stray cats and dogs everywhere! This is related to the dog poop we saw with every step we took. You really need to be on alert when walking anywhere outside of downtown.
• Living near Nazaré – a very shady area on the other side of our gym.
• The crazy lady and men in Nazaré who think they are our best friends. They also thought it was funny to yell sexual remarks at us.
• Seafood rice and mystery meat soup at the café. Not quite my fancy.

There isn’t much I can complain about during my stay on Madeira. I had the time of my life and will keep the memories I have with me forever. That being said, as the season comes to a close – so does my blog. I hope you have enjoyed reading it every week as much as I have enjoyed posting to it. The next time it will be updated is when I sign with a new team for the upcoming season in September. However, I’ll be sure to keep readers out there posted if anything else fabulous happens during my life from May through August. I’ve had a few requests for posts about Hoopfest, a 3 on 3 street ball tournament I play in every year at the end of June, so that’s also a possibility.

I appreciate any comments, suggestions or ideas at anytime. Feel free to contact me through the blog and I’ll try my best to get back to you. I love getting feedback. Thank you everyone for all your support this season!

Love,

Breanne

Very Superstitious

2009-04-24T08:54:00.011-07:00

In my years of playing competitive sports, I’ve encountered numerous personalities – allowing me to witness the superstitions many athletes have. They range from interesting, to bizarre to flat out comical. It’s fascinating to see what some people feel they need to do to get themselves ready for game time.

I myself like to think that I’m not that superstitious, rather, I like to complete certain routines before I step on the hardwood. I don’t believe they will guarantee a win or enhance my performance, however, I feel they calm my nerves and prepare me mentally for the task I’m about to face. For example, the night before a game I like to eat a good dinner full of carbohydrates. A couple of hours before game time I listen to my ipod and start focusing on what I need to accomplish on the court. I never wear my uniform to the gym, as I prefer to put it on when I get to the locker room. I always wear 2 pairs of socks, with it being very important that my knee-highs end just below my knees. After dressing in my game attire, I rinse my mouth guard and head for the court.

Once I step onto the hardwood it’s time to start my warm up routine. This is where I like to complete things in 3’s or multiples of 3’s. First its layups from the right, left and center, then form shooting just outside the key from the right, left and center. After I complete these 2 sets and have made my shots in succession without a miss, I’m ready to shoot around and get into team drills.

The only real superstition that I’ll actually call a superstition is ‘knock on wood.’ Whenever a bad thought passes through my mind or I start thinking negatively, I either knock on my forehead or literally knock on some wood nearby. Whether it’s saved me from injury or making future mistakes – I’ll never know. But the thought of doing it is a security blanket; I convince myself that I’ve scared the negativity away! A little strange, I know – but it works for me.

My superstition is naught compared to what I’ve seen past and present teammates do. I’ve had teammates who wear the same spandex, sports bra or underwear every game day. People who put on their right sock before the left, left shoe before their right and put their shorts on left leg, right leg and so on. Some need to be the first out of the locker room or first one in. Many need to listen to the exact same song before hitting the court. The craziest one I witnessed was a girl who said she needed to take the first shot of the game no matter what. The funny thing is she actually tried to do it every time – good shot or bad. WHAT?! I’m pretty sure the first shot of the game should be the first open look someone has, not whether it’s a part of your superstitions or not. That one was weird and come to think of it, very selfish.

That being said, everyone has their own superstitions that they believe help prepare them for their performance. There’s no right or wrong – its just an interesting concept that toes the line between sanity and being OCD.

Basketball Update: Last weekend in the playoff semi-finals we lost the first game of the best of 3 series, putting us in a do or die situation tomorrow. I hate having my back against the wall, but have a good feeling about this weekend. We couldn’t have played worse in our first game out. Being on the road, in a gym that has given us trouble before, we shot terribly and played even worse defense. I’m going to go out and say, it was probably the worst game we played all year and was the worst time to be playing like that. Winning Saturday forces a game 3 Sunday – both to be played here in Madeira. This weekend is huge and if we lose, it’s literally over and I’ll be home next week. If and when we pull off these two games we live to see another week and play for the league title. So put on your red at home and be thinking of me and CAB Madeira!

-BW

What If...

2009-04-15T17:42:00.008-07:00

Have you ever played the 'what if' game? It’s dangerous and often leads to over thinking of past situations - which is never a good thing. The past is the past and there is no way to change it; so why waste time wondering what could have been?

That being said, I subconsciously play this game with myself all the time. It’s not that I want to, but whenever I have an excessive amount of free time 'what if' thoughts pop into my mind. I can honestly say I don’t have any regrets in life. However, looking back, I can think of numerous situations I would have approached differently - we all can.

These thoughts tend to hit me when I’m at peace and am taking in my surroundings. One minute I’m stress free, calm and enjoying life while sipping coffee - the next I’m in deep thought dwelling on the past. Oddly enough, most these thoughts occur when I’m in Europe, and probably have a lot to do with the fact that I’m away from my family and close friends. Being abroad has made me realize what’s most important in life and allows me to give a lot of thought to many different things.

After having 2 very successful pro seasons abroad thus far, I guess the 'what if' that enters my mind most is: what if I played more minutes and had a larger role in college? I’m glad I attended the University of Washington and would do it all again in a heart beat – but after coming into my own these past 2 years on the court and being able to display what type of player I always knew I could be is frustrating. If I had been utilized the right way in college, things might have been different and perhaps I could have been given a shot in the WNBA. That is no longer a goal or dream, but a 'what if' that passes through my mind every now and then.

This is not to take anything away from my career as a Husky. It was solid, as I was a starter all 4 years while averaging 19 minutes, 8 points and 4 rebounds per game. We went to the NCAA tournament twice and almost always were in contention for a PAC-10 title. I had wonderful teammates and received my degree from a very prestigious institution. I met friends that I’ll have for life and contacts that have helped me in the business world. That’s why the 'what if' game is so dangerous. I’d take nothing back but will always wonder what if…

I truly believe that things happen for a reason and that obstacles and deterrents you go through in life are there to prepare you for the future. UW was wonderful for me and I probably would have never become the player I am today if it wasn’t for what I went through and accomplished in Seattle.

Basketball Update: The first round of playoffs are complete – we soundly defeated Povoa 2-0 and now move on to the semi-finals against Vagos. Vagos is a strong team with two very talented Brazilian forwards. Casey and I have our work cut out for us inside if we want to come out with the W. Though undersized, I think our athleticism and quickness will be a big factor. The first game will be played Sunday at Vagos and it is vital for us to get the first win. If we can do that, things will be a little easier coming home the following week, as we would only need one win to win the series. The roadtrip this weekend will be fun, as we will be traveling with the men. They play right after us. Wish us luck! Go CAB!

-BW

Sidenote: GO CANUCKS GO!

April Aspirations - The Madness Continues...

2009-04-05T13:59:00.015-07:00

It’s that time of year again - the time when every basketball player’s hopes and dreams are within reach. For most, March Madness turns into April Sadness – as late playoff pushes and early round exits are inevitable. This third month of every year harbors a wide range of emotions for many athletes. From joy to despair, anger to frustration and nervousness to desperation – everything a passionate ball player has is left on the court. It may sound cliché, but blood, sweat and tears fall like rain thoughout the Northwest during post-season play. Every team is in search of one thing and one thing only - being crowned National Champion.

After experiencing the highs of college basketball and twice playing in the NCAA tournament, post-season in Europe just doesn’t have the same feel. Sure it’s exciting and the goal remains the same – but the hype, atmosphere and environment pales in comparison. I’m sure this can’t be said for everywhere in Europe – but in my 2 seasons of play abroad, I often find myself thinking about what once was and the emotions college players are feeling this time of year. I miss it.

On the other side of the ocean in a completely different basketball world, my team has entered it’s own playoffs. Finishing 2nd in the Portuguese league has us with a favorable post-season draw. First round we’re playing the 7th place team, a team we beat handily twice this year. However, as every seasoned basketball player knows, that means nothing in post-season. Post-season is a new season, with every team starting at zero and underdogs being fan favorites. The biggest mistake a higher seeded team can make is to underestimate the little guy. Anything can happen with a fresh start and emotions running high. That’s what makes sport so wonderful.

The playoff format for the Liga Feminina is a best of 3 series until the final, which is a best of 5. As I touched upon earlier, our first round match up is Povoa. Last weekend we defeated them 94-63 in Porto. But it wasn’t without a fight. Though the score looks like it was blowout, it was one of those games that was a battle from start to finish. We started out flat - lacking energy, emotion and passion. Going into halftime we were only up 2. I don’t like blaming performance on outside factors, but the fact that we were up at 4:30am to travel and to play at 6:30pm on the very same day had a lot to do with our heavy legs and blank stares in the first 20 minutes. I still can’t wrap my head around how clubs expect you to perform to the best of your ability on lack of sleep, extended travel and spending 6 hours killing time in a mall or hotel lobby. We were never given the chance to rest or take a nap. Can we get a hotel room please? It was madness! Nevertheless, we were able to get the job done and head home with a ‘W.’

Playing on the road can be tough, but is always made easier when you spot a familiar face or hear a recognizable voice cheering for you in the crowd. Amidst the boos, shouts and whistles (which is a boo here in Europe) I was able to distinguish two familiar voices. Two of our American friends from FC Porto made the 30-minute drive to Povoa to come out and support Casey and I on the hardwood. It was great to see them in the crowd and helped provide that much-needed boost. Catching up with the guys after the game was fun and sadly our visiting time was cut too short. Thanks for the love Marcus and Marcio!

Winning on the road means we need one more next weekend (at home) to capture the series. If we lose, we play the very next day on our home court. It’s a strange playoff format that sees the higher seed playing the first game on the road and the next two (if necessary) at home. I almost feel as though it’s a disadvantage for having a successful season. For example, if everything goes according to plan and we make the finals, as does Olivais (the 1st place team and our rivals), we would play 2 games on our home court before going away to their gym for the next 3. So, if we win the first two at home, we only have to win 1 on the road! This definitely plays to our benefit, so hopefully it works out that way.

Oddly, this weekend was a free weekend for us, as there was a National basketball festival on the mainland for high schoolers. Since most of the league refs were officiating the tournament Saturday and Sunday, both the women’s and men’s leagues were put on hold. It was strange to have a break between playoff games, but nice to be able to rest my body and nagging Achilles. Hopefully these couple of days gave them the break they needed. Casey and I spent most of the weekend hanging out with the guys and enjoying the weather. Friday morning the two of us went to the Deserted Islands on a Navy ship with some Navy guys we know. It was fun despite the long day and chilly weather. Next weeks post will be all about it.

Até Logo,

-BW

Bre Does Barca

2009-03-26T10:16:00.017-07:00

Paris, Prague, Athens and Vienna – these 4 cities make up only a fraction of places I hope to visit and experience one day. When? Only time will tell, but living abroad for the past 2 years has allowed me to cross off many desired destinations. From Tallin, Estonia to Venice, Italy - I’ve done my fair share of traveling and am constantly finding ways to plan future trips. This weekend I did just that and was able to put a line through another city, as I spent 3 fun filled, sleep-deprived days in Barcelona, Spain.

Warmed up and ready to go at practice last week, I was shocked to hear my regulated, routine induced coach announce that was giving us 3 days off rather than the customary 1. Taken aback, I took a moment to control my breathing while my heart thumped double time in my chest. After regaining composure, my mind started to mentally plan out realistic destinations. Eventually Barcelona won out, with London coming in a close second.

With flights booked and bags packed, Casey and I were too excited to sleep, chatting well into the night about the respective adventures we were about to embark on. Casey to Holland to see her husband and myself to Spain – a country friends have only raved about. Up a mere 4 hours later with ticket in hand, I was ready to experience yet another country. Tired from the lack of sleep the night before, Casey and I bid goodbye and headed our separate ways. Passed out the duration of the flight to Lisbon and repeating the same action from Lisbon to Barcelona, I felt revived when deplaning into the afternoon sun.

Grabbing my bag off the carousel, I headed towards the exit and immediately spotted my good friend (and former UW teammate) Jill Bell. After hugging and trading huge smiles, we picked up right were we had left off 7 months ago. Hopping on the metro, we were off to take a walking tour of downtown - but not before stopping at Subway for lunch. You’re probably thinking Subway? While in Barcelona? Since Madeira doesn’t have any of the comforts of home, (i.e. Starbucks, Subway, Olive Garden etc) I ended up breaking one of my European rules and allowed myself to eat at the American restaurant. The thought of passing on foot long sweet chicken teriyaki inches from my grasp was too much to bear.

Satisfied after a great sandwich, we decided to walk around the city centurm. I can’t believe how Americanized Barcelona is. From the Hard Rock Café and McDonalds, to Starbucks on every other corner, (you should be proud – I didn’t drink there once!) the Nike Store and a massive department store that was essentially Nordstrom in disguise - I almost felt as though I was walking around downtown Seattle. Weird. I was also surprised by the amount of people out in the street – again struck by the thought of “does anyone work in Europe?” Jill informed me it was siesta time (a 3-hour lunch break from 2-5 pm) and that everyone was either at home napping or out socializing with friends. During this break most stores close, with the exception of the city center, where most tourists and many Barcelonians can be found.

After wandering down the main streets, enjoying the local farmers market, taking pictures at Casa Batlló and seeing too much PDA in the park, Jill and I took a much needed café break. Here were 2 former coffee haters drinking coffee like it was going out of style. It was hilarious! Chatting about the irony, it’s unlikely you’ll ever see us drinking designer drinks again. I was pleasantly surprised with the coffee quality in Barca, ranking it a close second to my Madeira Chinesa! Walking around a little longer, we eventually jumped on the metro and headed to Jill’s flat to rest our feet before her practice.

Watching Jill’s practice as an outsider, I found myself noticing the obvious differences of our respective situations. European basketball is such a business and you have to fight for everything you’re promised. Seeing her situation in Spain makes me appreciate what I have and where I’m at.

After practice (where no one on her team speaks a word of English - not even the coach) Jill and I walked towards her place, stopping to eat dinner at a local restaurant she frequents. I was surprised when we entered a hole in the wall called La Cava. Walking inside, I was intrigued by how small and packed the place was. Here was a restaurant that held a maximum of 20 people, jam packed with locals to the point you could barely maneuver to the bathroom. As we sat down, Jill chatted with the owner and ordered dinner. La Cava had a great atmosphere, giving me a taste of Spanish culture. Most tables were filled with 6 people or more, drinking wine and laughing the night away. There was food galore and the air was heavy with a thick smog of smoke (after leaving I felt like I had smoked a pack – ugh.) People took their time to eat and were more concerned with telling stories than devouring their food. It was a complete 360° compared to what I’ve seen at home. The food was fabulous and our 2-hour dinner concluded after midnight. Tired and full, it was back to the flat for the night to recharge for the next full day of sight seeing.

Reflecting on my first day in Spain, I found I was genuinely impressed with Jill’s Spanish - as all day she conversed almost fluently with locals and understood everything being said to her. I’m so proud! She has really gained independence in Spain and gets around with ease – which I learned is no easy feat. People here DO NOT want to speak English, even if they know how. It’s almost rude. Most people refuse and pretend they don’t know a word of what you’re saying. I’m all about assimilating to new cultures and respecting peoples traditions, but when I’m trying to speak Spanish and you show no patience or look at me like I’m stupid – I don’t appreciate it. As someone with absolutely no Spanish background, (French is my second language) I found myself mixing Portuguese, French and English into one language I decided to call Portu-Franglish. Jill understood it, but the Spanish people did not. ☺

Out the door the next morning at 11am, we again hopped on the metro and were off to tour Gaudi Park (Park Güell.) This is one of the sites I was most excited to see. It didn’t disappoint, as it was everything and more than I expected it to be. Being a Saturday, the place was packed and getting a good photo was a tough feat, however, I managed to get some great shots while appreciating the architecture, walking through the cavernous open areas, weaving through the columns and enjoying the unique tiled details of Antoni Gaudi's work. My favorite part of the park was at the top where you are able to look out on the city. It was a beautiful day with the Mediterranean shining bright blue in the distance. Wow – what a view! After appreciating Antoni Gaudi’s work and enjoying the moment, we left to grab lunch and stop at the Nordstrom replica store where I could buy some Mac blush. Wandering around downtown, I was about to take in the picturesque buildings, street protests and note the culture differences. I couldn’t help but think – am I really here? This is what I love most about traveling. The differences and similarities that make you appreciate the beauty of the country you live in and the country you are a visitor in.

Tired and in need of some rest, it was back to Jill’s flat. While she was grabbing some Z’s before her evening game, I went online to check my bracket and watch some NCAA games. Oh, how I love March madness – too bad I was a Wake Forest fan this year. They completely destroyed my bracket! With Jill revived, her ride picked us up and we were off to the game. A close second half unfortunately ended in a 1-point loss for Jill’s team. Though the girls were dejected, I was impressed their fan support. It was an away game – about 30 minutes from Barcelona and Lima Horta (Jill’s team) had more fans than the opposing team did in their home gym. They were loud the whole game singing cheers, blowing horns and whistling (which is Europe is a boo) at the refs. Even after the loss the fans were quick to console the girls and pat them on their backs.

Finally home, Jill and I ate at a local diner before turning on the Internet to follow our UW men in the round of 32. The game didn’t start until 11pm Barcelona time, so we cheered on the purple and gold while getting ready to go out for the evening. A close game with a heartbreaking finish ended just in time for Jill and I to catch the metro down to the water at 1:15am. I know what you’re thinking, 1:15am? Well apparently that’s early. Most people don’t head out until after 2am. No wonder they have 3-hour siestas in the middle of the day! We ended up meeting a friend at Catwalk, one of the popular nightclubs known for its hip-hop music. A late night turned into an early morning, as we didn’t arrive home until 5am.

A mere 5 hours later we were up at 10:30am, ready to tackle the last couple of tourist sites on my list. Tired, we quickly downed 2 coffees each and were off to the Sagrada Familia Church – one of the most famous sites in this well-known city. After stepping off the metro we rounded the corner and boom! There it was. I was shocked by its sheer size - the monument is monstrous! I was overwhelmed with the detail and beauty of this enormous structure. To think that it started being built in 1882 and is still under construction to this very day is mind blowing. The projected completion date is 2026. Once inside, the two of us wandered around to view the stained glass windows, massive columns and detailed architecture. It was an amazing site, something to see if you ever visit Barcelona. There is only so much to view on the ground floor, which is why they make you pay more if you’re willing to wait in line for an hour to take an elevator to the top. When in Rome…of course I had to get the full experience so Jill and I chatted in line until it was our turn to go up. It was well worth the wait, as the view from the top was breathtaking. I could see the whole city and places we had visited days before. What a great experience, one I won’t forget.

After a quick lunch, we spent the rest of the day by the water people watching until it was time to head back home to get ready for the FC Barcelona Futebol match. You read that correctly. Jill and I managed to score one of the toughest tickets in European sports. FC Barcelona is considered one of the top 3 futebol clubs in the world and employ the likes of the Thierry Henry, Lionel Messi and Samuel Eto'o. I could barely contain my excitement as we headed toward the stadium. The atmosphere was electric and fans rowdy. Sitting down in my seat, I found myself hardly watching the match, as I couldn’t believe how large the stadium was and how a 99,000 seat arena (largest in Europe) was completely sold out. It was loud, full of songs, chants and cheers. Prying myself away from watching the fans I was able to enjoy the match and was up on my feat 6 times for Barca goals. A blowout made for an impressive display of offense. It was great. Walking out of the stadium I was taken aback by the sheer joy and happiness of fans. Thousands of people were out in the streets blowing horns, singing and cheering. What an experience!

Upon conclusion of the game, Jill and I met up with some of her friends and spent the rest of the evening at a local bar. It was a great way to end my trip. Saying our goodbyes and thanking Jill for a great weekend, I grabbed a cab to the airport, reflecting on my Barcelona experience.

-BW

Sidenote: Be sure to read this article my good friend Lindsey Wilson wrote for the NEW YORK TIMES! Nice! You can also read about her European adventures by clicking here.

Terceira, Azores Islands

2009-03-16T18:33:00.013-07:00

I’m going to mix it up a bit, with this weeks post being somewhat of a journal entry detailing a typical day/roadtrip in the life of a professional basketball player. Here’s a taste…enjoy!

Friday March 13, 10:00am

This morning at practice I was really tired. Even though it was light with a lot of shooting and half court drills, my legs were heavy and I felt as though I was using all my energy to get up and down the floor. I’m not sure why I was so exhausted, but this past week my muscles were really sore and my body felt run down. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that I was getting over a cold and our late night practices (9-11pm) which are followed by morning workouts only 11 hours later (10am) were making it tough for my body to completely recover. I’ve been sleeping fine, but sometimes you need time to rest. A lot of people have knocked my profession, suggesting that it’s easy to only play basketball as a job. But what they don’t realize is that even though I only ‘work’ 4 hours a day, every single ounce of energy I have in me is expended during that short period of time. I’m the type of person that gives everything I have in whatever I do. There’s no coffee break here, just 100% effort put out and left on the floor. Some days are tougher than others, but you find a way to make it through.

While eating lunch as a team at the gym's café, I made sure to sit in the sun and soak up its warm rays - deciding it was easily one of the most beautiful afternoons I’ve experienced on Madeira. Too bad we left for the Azores a few hours later...After lunch we hopped in the van and headed for the airport. With no direct flight from Funchal to Terceira, this was going to be the longest road trip of the season. We left Funchal at 2pm for Lisbon, after a 2 hour layover caught the Lisbon to Terceira flight and finally landed on the Azores at 7:30pm - gaining an hour in the process. Tired, sore and hungry, Casey and I collapsed in our hotel room and played cards for almost 2 hours before the scheduled 9pm team dinner. Ahhh, how I love European travel itinerary…

Fun fact: Terceira is closer to the USA than it is to Lisbon.

Saturday, March 14, 9:30am

Happy Birthday to me! Today I’m 24 and feel as though I’m 30! Seriously, I didn’t sleep a wink last night - which probably had a lot to do with the fact that our hotel room reeked of mold. It was disgusting! Opening the windows didn't help, as the smell was embedded in the pillows, sheets and towels. Even grosser? Casey’s sheets were damp. Sick! Apparently Terceira is known to have a lot of mold problems because of its humidity and dampness. The combination of these two is not a good one, thus, the nose crinkling smell of mold is everywhere. Ugh!

Heading down to breakfast I expected at least a happy birthday from one of my teammates. Nope, just bom dia’s (good morning) all round. I was kind of crushed, but Casey had made me stay up the night before until midnight Madeira time (11pm on Terceira) to wish me happy birthday and give me a hug. At almost the same time I received a phone call from Jason (one of our men’s players) and a couple text messages from friends not on the trip with us. It was nice and made my day. After breakfast Case and I caught a couple more hours of sleep before heading to team lunch. Still no birthday wishes – sad. Ah well, I’ll live. After eating, Casey and I wandered around downtown to take pictures and explore a bit of the historical city. Terceira is very unique, lined with old buildings and cobblestone streets. Some stores were painted bright colors while others barely clung to their old brick foundations. One of my favorite parts of playing pro ball is experiencing and walking around random unique cities - places I would never dream of visiting or knew existed had I not decided to play professional basketball. I know I say this all the time, but I’m so thankful for what basketball has given me.

Near the end of our walking tour we came across a store called Loja Americana. Low and behold, it was a grocery store that sold only imported American food. From Ritz Crackers to Pop Tarts to Betty Crocker cakes – a little slice of home was all right there. Both of us were ecstatic to grab a taste of home and pulled on the door handle only to find out it was locked. Just our luck! It had closed at 1pm and it was 1:30pm. Talk about bad timing. Oogling at the goodies inside, we managed to tear ourselves away, trudging back to the hotel.

Once we returned to our room we changed into our jerseys and cranked the music to get pumped up. Casey and I were ready to face Boa Viagem (4th place team we had lost to earlier in the season) in the last game of the regular season. With the gym only 2 blocks from our hotel, we headed into battle on foot. Upon entering the gym, I immediately started coughing. If I thought the hotel had a moldy smell, it was nothing compared to the gym. Wondering how I was going to get enough oxygen to my lungs from the stagnant arena air, I thought positive thoughts and tried to acclimate as quickly as possible.

Starting the first quarter strong, CAB raced out to a 5-point lead. However, that quickly diminished and we found ourselves down by 10 for most of the game. BV’s American player is much bigger and stronger than me and I had a tough time defending her myself. Switching to a ¾ front with the double coming from the weak side, Casey and I were able to contain her much better; but with no rotation on the pass out, the two of us became extremely frustrated because BV seemed to be scoring at will. After throwing in some junk defense and playing tougher ‘D’ on the help side, we were able to stay in the game. With most my shots rolling out in the first half, I quickly found my rhythm in the second and rattled off 6 straight points. Tighter defense on their American led to her collecting a frustration foul on offense. She didn’t like the call, or our guard who boxed her out and quickly turned her direction and punched her in the neck! No joke! Thank goodness for the ref being in the right place at the right time. He immediately issued her a intentional foul and she was out of the game. Crazy. I was so proud of our young player who caught her breath, collected herself and knocked down both free throws. Not bad for 17! This was the momentum change we needed and we started playing with a passion and energy we lacked in the first. Though the game was close the rest of the way, I had a feeling we were going to pull this one out. Down 5 with a minute 30 to go, I rebounded an offensive board and threw it out to our wing who buried an open 3. Next possession we created a turnover and our PG hit 1 of 2 FT. With 13 seconds left in the game and us down by 1, coach drew up a play for Casey who had hit her last 2 shots. The set broke down on offense and their guard doubled down on Casey. Reacting, I quickly sealed my player inside. Our PG immediately saw the opening and passed me the ball inside. Making a quick move middle and spinning the other way, I banked a hook shot off the glass – up and in!!! Timeout Boa Viagem with 7 seconds left to play. Hype after gaining our first lead since the first quarter, we were all pumped to play some sticky ‘D’. Receiving our assignments - it was now or never. Once the ball was in play Carla, our best defensive player, locked up their best guard and she turned the ball over! We quickly in bounded the ball and ran out the time – victory!!! A great win and huge character builder for our team heading into playoffs. Phew! We all embraced at half court and quickly shook hands with the other team. As we walked back to our bench the girls surrounded me and sang happy birthday in Portuguese at the top of their lungs. I couldn’t stop smiling and decided to do an impromptu dance inside the circle. What a great birthday gift!

After showering and changing clothes, we were off to dinner, where the lights were dimmed and happy birthday was sang once again with cake. The girls explained that they knew it was my birthday, but wanted to get the ‘W’ and surprise me at dinner. Thank goodness we won…

Returning to our hotel room in high spirits around 10pm, Casey and I decided we didn’t want the night to end quite yet. Since I had just turned the big 24, we asked Juca (our coach) if it was ok if we could go to a local bar and hang out for the rest of the evening. He told us to be smart and make sure we were at breakfast at 8:30am. No prob. After chatting with the guy at the front desk, we learned about of couple of the hot spots and chose one to test out. Catching a cab we were off, with our destination being an indoor/outdoor bar on the water. It was awesome. Here we were sitting on a dock, looking out onto the ocean while house music thumped in the background. It was pretty amazing and a nice way to take in the atmosphere. Casey and I had a great time people watching, viewing passing ships and admiring the old buildings surrounding the scene. I don’t know how many times we said to each other “look where we are right now! How many people get to experience this?” Of course on such a small island, it should be no surprise that we bumped into 2 American men who played on Terceira team. We spent most of the evening talking to them about home and our experiences abroad. They were nice guys and it was a great way to spend the last hours of my birthday.

Fun fact: cows outnumber people living on the island of Terceira.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Up bright and early for our jaunt back to Funchal, the girls and I couldn’t wait to get home (Madeira.) After surviving layovers and flight transfers we finally arrived in Funchal at 5:30pm. I couldn’t wait to get to the house, relax and grab some dinner. However, Casey had other plans. After jumping out of the shower, my awesome roommate had another b-day surprise planned. Who walks in but our 3 men’s players with a bunch of groceries. Imagine my surprise when they announced they were cooking dinner for my 24th and that all I had to do was sit back, relax and just be the DJ. A dinner of fried chicken, home made mac and cheese and sweet potatoes was topped off with ice cream and a couple of gifts! Wow, what great people I have surrounding me this year. I couldn’t believe the generosity of my North American counterparts and couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. We closed out the evening at our favorite bar full of transplants from all over the world. New Zealand, England, South Africa, Sweden and so on. It’s a great place with good people and we love going there to just hang out. This is a birthday I won’t forget. What a fabulous weekend, thanks Casey – you’re the best!

Fun Fact: Terceira is home to Lajes U.S. Air Base, which is strategically located between North America and Europe in the North Atlantic Ocean. Lajes provides support to 15,000 aircraft, including fighters from the US and 20 other allied nations each year. The geographic position has made this airbase very important to both America's and NATO's war fighting capability.

-BW

Sidenote: My brother’s university (UBC – University of British Columbia) made the CIS (Canadian Interuniversity Sport) National Championship final Sunday night in Ottawa. While Casey and the guys were cooking we all watched the broadcast online. After dominating the first half and leading by 5 into the break, they played an uninspired second and ended up losing by 10. It was disappointing, especially because they were clearly the better team. Number 2 in Canada is nothing to scoff at, but it’s hard losing a close game like that. I’m proud of you bro!

EuroStyle

2009-03-09T12:41:00.011-07:00

It’s amazing how different Europeans are from their (North) American counterparts. From culture and history to food, fashion and mannerisms – distinctness is apparent and actually, is one of my favorite things about living abroad. Seeing this diversity first hand is both refreshing and humbling. I’ve learned a lot about myself because of it and it has helped me realize what’s most important in life. Reflecting further, I’ve become conscious of the fact that many Canadians and Americans take too much for granted and tend to lose sight of what is most important to them.

Time moves slowly in Europe. From afternoon siestas to coffee breaks every 15 minutes, time isn’t of the essence. It’s more important to grab a mid-afternoon drink with a friend than to be constantly on the go completing a thousand different tasks at once. Europeans like to sit down and enjoy meals, investing time with each course. Americans grab everything on the go because we can’t spare a moment to sit down and enjoy our food.

As cliché as it sounds, time is money. Why is it that when I have a free moment I subconsciously feel as though I’m not working hard enough? Americans are so used to being busy during the workweek that it can be hard to find time to grab a bite or even take a bathroom break. Every time I return to Europe I’m continually amazed by how many people I see wandering the streets, relaxing at cafes, chatting at coffee bars or reading by the water. Do these people not have jobs? Most do, but Europeans don’t seem to be pre-occupied with the notion that life revolves around money and power. Instead, relationships are of high importance. They’re what matter most and fulfill something money can’t.

Money of course is a necessity in life and changes the way people live their lives. Because I’ve been fortunate enough to travel around the world and live in different countries, I’ve found it easy to see how much more materialistic Americans are than Europeans. As a whole we seem to feel the need to own the iPhone, carry a Louis Vuitton purse, show off our platinum engagement rings or drive the biggest SUVs. We’re so concerned with what others think of us – that it affects how we present ourselves. Europe is different in that respect. Most cars here are compact and environmentally friendly. Wedding rings are simple gold bands and you seldom see women toting oversized brand name purses. This isn’t to say that Europeans don’t wear brand name clothing or flashy accessories - of course they do, but Americans tend to think too much about what others think of them, rather than being comfortable as themselves.

From fashion to conversation, it’s interesting to see the difference in mannerisms from country to country. Americans tend to sugarcoat criticisms or try to soften blunt remarks. Many don’t speak their mind and make indirect comments. Americans tend to sugarcoat criticisms or try to soften blunt remarks.. Many don’t speak their mind and prefer to make indirect comments. Yet reducing the blow of a comment can lead to confusion and further questions. In my European experiences I’ve found that people are very direct and forward in their comments, to the point of being rude. However, I think a lot of this is due to the language being lost in translation. Example: I was eating lunch at the gym one day and was pretty tired and run down from the previous week. This must have been reflected in my face and/or body language, as the marketing director for CAB walked up to me and asked me what was wrong with my face. Excuse me? At first I thought I must have had a huge zit or food left on my chin. Nope, it was nothing like that. He was just telling me I looked like crap and wasn’t afraid to say so. At first I used to get offended by these very blunt, direct remarks. But as I spend more and more time in Europe, I continue to understand that it’s just the way people communicate over here. They’re going to tell you exactly what’s on their mind whether you like it or not. My skin is tougher now and a comment like “Breanne, you’re playing like s**t, get it together!” doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s definitely an adjustment, but it’s also refreshing in some respect. Bluntness lets you know exactly what the problem is and how to fix it. I thought I was blunt, but I’m a puppy compared to some of the comments made on this side of the Atlantic!

I could continue to write for days about the differences between Americans and Europeans, but I don’t want to bore you. Therefore, I’ll finish with my thoughts on sexuality. Nakedness in Europe is expected. Showing skin is almost a requirement. I’ve never seen so many bare bellies, low cut shirts and excessively tight pants. As someone who is somewhat of a conservative dresser, I get a kick out of shopping for clothes away from home. Finding pants/shorts/dresses long enough are few and far between and some of the shirts are so tiny I might as well walk around public in just a bra. This is not to say I’m a prude, but I think some things are better left to the imagination, rather than being on display for everyone to see. From bikini thongs to old men in speedos – anything goes. It’s quite different than home. I remember after college games we would shower in separate curtained off showered areas. No one was about to let anyone else see their bare butt, whereas here, the locker room is one massive skin show. Everyone is naked. Whether conversing about current events, the weather or what is happening later that night no clothing is necessary. There is no shyness or self-consciousness like in America. It’s normal; it’s comfortable. During my first season I was completely paranoid and nervous to be butt naked with a group of people I barely knew. You’d find me hiding behind my towel or cowering in the corner until everyone else was done. How things have changed! It’s a part of the routine and is something I’ve learned to become comfortable with. Men do it all the time, but American women have this stigma about being judged and are way too self-conscious for their own good. It’s a part of life and is a new experience I’m now embracing.

Basketball Update: This weekend was a free weekend. It was much needed to rest our tired, aching bodies. My achilles feel pretty good, so we’ll see tonight in practice how beneficial these couple of days off were. Our men’s team played Benfica on Sunday and unfortunately didn’t get the result they had hoped for. It was a clash of the league titans as 2nd place CAB faced the league leaders. They played a great first half, down 2 at the break but were unable to keep up the momentum in the second. The gym was packed and the crowd loud and even though we lost, it was a fun atmosphere to be a part of. This weekend we play our last regular season game on the Azores Islands. We face Boa Viagem, a team we lost to earlier in the season. A win is a must, as I’d like to celebrate a victory on my 24th birthday!

-BW

I Heart Carbs

2009-03-02T09:35:00.015-08:00

Atkins Diet be damned. I love carbs and can’t imagine life without them. They’re a staple of my everyday diet and the thought of cutting them out completely? Forget it. I don’t know if I could survive a day without bread, cereal or pasta. Willpower? When carbohydrates are involved I have none.

Of course I am a competitive athlete and eating carbs is one of the best ways to keep my body fueled. Thankfully, I don’t have to worry too much about what I consume. However, since arriving on Madeira - aka the land of fresh baked everything, I’m convinced I eat enough carbs to feed 3 people. Allow me to explain. In Madeira it’s tradition to start your morning with a small, strong, sweet bica (coffee) and a few pieces of warm, soft, fresh baked bread straight from the oven. This aromatic scent is second to none and seems to grab hold of my appetite without shame. Having the willpower to stop after 2 pieces is a common goal and after enjoying the luscious taste of said bread, the thought of eating store bought full of preservatives is revolting. I can’t believe how spoiled I’ve been this season in Portugal. Not only do I live on a beautiful island with gorgeous weather, (except for the past week and a half of rain) but I get to consume fresh baked everything everyday – which can be quite dangerous…

A pastry a day (or more!) keeps the doctor away. At least that’s the motto Casey and I have taken up since living in Madeira. Everywhere you walk you can’t help but stumble upon a small café selling coffee and fresh baked pastries. And at €0.60 a pop, it’s a crime not to walk in and buy a filo de chocolate or pastel de nata. I would necessarily call this a good habit, but when your job requires you to workout a minimum of 3 hours a day, 6 days a week, I think it’s ok. If this wasn’t the case I’d definitely kick the habit, or else I’d be carrying an extra 10 pounds of unwanted weight!

These sweet treats are hard to resist – the smell, softness and warmth make them an everyday necessity and have me craving another after each bite. The hardest part is knowing when to stop. I wish I was joking, but Casey and I probably consume at least 2 a day, cutting down from our previous high of 3.

But it doesn’t end with pastries. As mentioned earlier, the fresh bread here is amazing and is used in many different ways. My personal favorite is Bolo de Caco (garlic bread.) You haven’t experienced great garlic bread until you’ve eaten a Bolo de Caco. To sum it up in one word - amazing, mouthwatering, irresistible. Ok, that’s 3, but I think you get my point. The warm, soft, circular shaped flat bread is cut in half and smothered with warm garlic butter and oregano. Mmmmm….I can’t even begin to describe its wonderful taste. It’s something that must be experienced and sadly can only be found in Madeira and not mainland Portugal. In fact I think I’ll go get one tonight…

As much as I enjoy eating and experiencing the assortment of fresh baked goods on this island, I feel somewhat guilty writing about the topic, as both my brother and dad have Celiac disease. Sorry guys! Sadly, they can’t eat anything that contains wheat, gluten, barley or rye. If they do, the reaction is very unfavorable and bad for their health. Thank goodness their willpower is stronger than mine. I’m not sure how they do it, but I guess I’m glad they’re not here or I fear the temptation would be too great!

Basketball Update: Last night we played Olivais for the 3rd time this season. It was a Cup game, which doesn’t count against league standings but is almost as important, if not more important. Winning the Portuguese Cup comes with high regard – it’s like winning the league. Unfortunately, our draw had us facing our rivals to get into the Final 4, when really, it should have been the Cup final. Olivais won’t have any trouble securing the Cup now after beating us. We had defeated Olivais twice this season, both close games by 3-4 points. It’s always difficult beating a team 3 times in a row and that proved true last night. We played an inspired 1st half, only down 5 at the break. However, the 2nd half was a complete disaster. We didn’t play as a team. And that’s exactly why we lost. Instead of playing together to get a ‘W’ people were dribbling down the court going one on one whenever they touched the ball. We rarely ran a play, no one boxed out and there was no help side defense or rotation. Too many people were looking out for themselves. It was like we were a high school team playing seasoned pros. It was embarrassing. A team we had been victorious over twice this season beat us by 18. Eighteen!!! Unacceptable. I hate the feeling of losing, especially when not experiencing it much. We’ve only lost 4 games this year and I wasn’t here for 2 of them. The last time we lost was at the beginning of December – so I had forgotten what it felt like. This is a good reminder, as I don’t want to feel it again. Though we lost, Casey and I both had solid games, shooting better than 50% from the field. I finished with 16 and 10 and Case had 16 and 8. I shot 8 times and only had 2 shots in the 2nd half…hmmmm…that doesn’t seem right. With no game this coming weekend coach is going to work us hard with 2 a day practices all week. Interesting…

On a brighter note, Casey and I participated in the All-Star game last weekend in Moimenta Da Beira (a TINY, I’m talking mini, town in Northern Portugal.) Our hotel was almost 30 minutes from the gym, as it was the closest accommodation. They had the men staying at a different hotel, which was probably a good idea. At social hour Casey and I felt like we were being surrounded by a pack of wolves. It was funny and made for very interesting conversation…haha. The festivities were fun and on the first day we were down on the court supporting Jason (our men’s player) in the 3-point contest. He shot great and made it to the finals. In the championship match he hit way more 3’s than the other guy, but missed almost all the money balls, losing 18-21. It was too bad, as he was clearly the better shooter. The dunk contest was somewhat entertaining as there were only 2 guys who were good dunkers. We were joking with the Olivais girls that we should have entered and done fancy layups; no joke, we probably would have received higher scores than some guys who put up some seriously weak dunks. The next day the teams took the court with our Sul team (South) being quite a bit weaker than the Norte (North) team. However, we only lost by 7 (102-95.) I started the game and finished with 12 and 11. All-Star games are always weird to play in because everyone is trying to show off and get up as many shots as they can. I came in with the attitude that I was going to run the floor and rebound, which is basically how I scored all my points. I had fun during the game and afterward spent time chatting with the other (North) Americans about life abroad. It’s always nice to spend time with people who can relate with what you’re going through. After our game we showered and sat courtside to watch the men. In all honesty I think our game was much more entertaining. The guys didn’t want to pass the ball to one another and were going 1 on 1 every time down the court. It wasn’t that fun to watch. I was pleasantly surprised with the crowd that was on hand. The facilities were the best I’ve seen so far in Portugal and the gym was full of spectators. They were loud and supportive with little kids running around like crazy trying to get each player to sign their t-shirts. All in all it was a fun weekend, one I was glad I was a part of.

I was hoping to take some of the strain off my swollen achilles this week, but after our horrific loss I don’t see that happening. I guess I'll have to suck it up. Our men (who are in 2nd place) play Benfica – the best team in the league Sunday. It’s going to be a great game and I can’t wait to cheer the guys on.

-BW

Sidenote: Congrats to the UW men who clinched a share of the Pac-10 title Saturday. Ahhhhhh BOW DOWN!