Bad hair day

I am in Argentina. There are barber shops in Argentina, but I'm sure none of them know how to cut my hair. I forgot to take this into account when I came here because it all happened so fast and I was so excited. I've been here a little over 2 weeks, so it was about that time to get my haircut. Luckily, my teammate has a set of clippers that he said I could use. He offered to cut my hair for me, but I said, "If I'm going to play basketball for a while, I'm going to have to learn how to cut my own hair"... How many strikes am I on? I've lost count but I'm sure I've struck out by now.

Before

Obviously I need a haircut. But I didn't want to cut it too low. I wanted start gingerly. Buzzzzzzzzz goes the clippers. My hands quiver. I've had my haircut hundreds and hundreds of times, I'll just do what they did. Simple. I bring the clippers to my head as I look at the mirror. I watch as hair falls into the sink. HAHA! That's not so bad! I continue for about five minutes or so before I stop and realize that I'm actually not cutting that much hair off. I turn the setting a little lower. Still not what I want. It's on it's lowest setting now; I still wanted it lower. Instead of realizing I was holding the clippers at the wrong angle, I get the bright idea of taking the guard off. Well, I can show you better than I can tell you...

During

Dar nit!

Yep. Only thing to do now is to shave it all off. So I spend the next hour trying to make it all even. I use a piece of a mirror smaller than my hand to try and cut the back of my hair. I end looking like this...

Missed a few spots...

Well, my teammate helped me even it out, and now I look like this...

Depressing I know

As always, I look on the bright side: my hair will go back, this was a learning experience, and I will get to try again. But until next time GOOO HOOOOOOOS!!!!

Sorry, my UVA nostalgia took hold of me. But seriously, if I don't make the team, I am not coming back to the US until my hair grows back!

Let the Games Begin...

I have a lot to talk about in this blog but I promise you, you'll want to read it all!

I already talked about the four games that we had to play in four days starting on Thursday. So I get to the locker room and I'm filled with excitement and anticipation. I look down in my chair to grab my jersey, and this is what I see...

Ummmm it's Meyinsse thank you!

Now my name has been misspelled and mispronounced all my life. I've seen Meyinsee, Meyinse, Meinsse, Mayinsse, Mayonnaise (yes, someone actually wrote that), and Menendez (yep, in middle school by my principal. he even said "Jerome Menendez" on the intercom) just to name a few. There are even 4 different ways my family spells our name (Meyinsse, Meynisse, Megnisse, and Menyisse but that's another story). But seriously, on my jersey? Would it have been too much trouble to look at how my name is spelled before you made something PERMANENT. I was already upset because I couldn't have 55. (For some reason they only have numbers 4-15 here) But to misspell my name!?! Deep breath Jerome, deep breath. Eventually, I got over it, put it on, and got ready for the game.

We won the game and I played played well. I started, but only played like 20 minutes because we won by 30. I'll pause for a second to talk about something that I still find strange even though I've seen it quite a few times here. I've explained that the style of play here is different, and the game is way more physical than college. They also don't have any mercy on opponents when they play against them. I mean we were up 30 points in the 4th quarter and we were still pressing fullcourt!?! In the US, that would have started a fight. The game was clearly over and we were still playing hard like it just began. And that wasn't even the worst incident I've seen since I've been here. I came into the gym one time and two kids' teams were playing; the score was 102 to 12 and the winning team was STILL PRESSING FULLCOURT. In case you didn't follow that I'll repeat it; the score was 102 to 12 and the winning team was STILL PRESSING FULLCOURT. Here is a picture of the score... and it's still the third quarter,

Final score 151-21...

When I say kids I mean between the ages of 10-13. This would never happen in America because we have mercy rules and things like that. I guess just another one of those cultural differences.

Back to the games. I talked about how they play a lot more physical than college; they also play a lot dirtier. They hold, they grab, they step on your feet, they flop, they try and say bad words to you in English (it's quite funny). But to them, that's all a part of the game. After the game, they are polite and come together and hug the opposing team and do that kissy thing, followed by the teams eating together afterwards. Time Out. I don't like kissing people that I like on the cheek and I'm supposed to kiss an opponent that I've just battled for two hours and by now hate his guts? I get emotionally attached to the games when I play and I sometimes keep that emotional attachment after the games. For example, this summer I played in a summer league at Georgetown and there were two Maryland players on my team. I hate Maryland. But, I was able to put those emotions aside to play with those guys...but you would will never catch me eating with them! I guess just another one of those cultural differences.

We had another game Friday, which we won by 10. The game was closer than the score showed, and this team was especially dirty. I unintentionally elbowed one of the guards in the mouth on a rebound, however, I apologized but I didn't feel any remorse. By Saturday, my body was hurting. I wasn't jumping and dunking like I was in the first two games, but I still got the job done. We won by 30. (Why yes, we did press into the 4th quarter.) Now Sunday rolls around, my body is feeling better, but we have to play the same team again that we only beat by 10. I played well but I was in foul trouble the whole game and ended up fouling out. (These refs leave A LOT to be desired.) We lost by 4 and it was the championship game which was especially upsetting. I was a good sport even though it was hard. Very hard. Overall I had a good tournament; I averaged about 18 or 19 points and 8 or 9 rebounds a game. 

I'm still waiting to see if I officially made the team, but I will be extremely surprised if I don't. I need to find out in a hurry because I am very, very tired of staying in this hotel...

IT IS TIME!

Today is the big day! We play our first of three games over this weekend. They are only preseason games (season starts in October) but I'm still ready to go. I want to get my pregame thoughts in to compare them to my post game thoughts.

Up until now I haven't commented too much on the basketball side of things but I will do that now.

Well the first thing is understanding the coach has gotten A LOT easier now that my new teammate from Paraguay has joined the team. He grew up in Paraguay but played college ball in the United States so he definitely knows how to translate in terms I can understand. This experience has really made me appreciate knowing what the coach is saying. I know that in the past I would sometimes tune out my coaches and start day dreaming about what I had for lunch that day, or what I was going to eat for dinner. (And they tried to feed me twice a day...)

Another thing that is new to me but I like a lot is the fact that every time I see my teammates they say hi and shake hands with the whole team. They will go out of their way to say hi to everyone on the team and they do it every time we have practice-even if we have three in one day. I never experienced this on any other team that I have played with. I mean we would say hi to each other, but wouldn't go out of our way to say hi to everyone. I think we will be a closer team because of it.

Our style of play is to full court press and deny; like Clemson if you know what I mean by that. I am not really a huge fan of that, especially because I'm at the top of the press. I also have to take the ball out every time. I am Really not a fan of this. For those of you that don't know basketball, all this means is that I have to do a lot more running than I am accustomed/want to do. I'll say one thing though, by the time I come back to the US I'll be in excellent shape.

Well, it's after 2 pm, NAP TIME. I'll probably write again after this weekend; hopefully I'll have a contract by then.

The place where magic happens.

Just one of those days...

So I was going to wait until tomorrow to write my next blog but today was just too good not to tell the story. Here's what happened...

You know it's going to be one of those days when you wake up 3 hours before your alarm and despite all your efforts you can't go back to sleep until 15 minutes before your alarm goes off so you wake up groggy. Strike one. 

So yesterday two things happened that are significant to today's story. One, they started painting our court, which meant that yesterday afternoon we had to use a a different gym. Two, they finally gave me and the other American our bikes. Yes, this is a small city but there are still long walks to places that we have to go. There is no way that I am driving in this country so a bike is the way to go.

Fast forward to today. Now when I went to the gym yesterday I got picked up from my hotel and we got there in 2 mins so I knew it was very close. I THOUGHT I paid attention to the route we took so I could get there today. Didn't pay attention well enough.
Strike two.

I know you guys know where this is going. We have practice at 10:30 and even though it's close I leave at 10 to get there. (We usually start practice late so getting there at 10:30 is fine here) I put on my coat and my booksack and head to the gym. I go the route I thought was correct...and I kept going...and going... Now I didn't have a watch on but after about 5 minutes I knew I was lost. I tried to retrace my tracks...but couldn't find anything I recognized and after a while I just kept going around in circles... 

Let me paint you the picture of what I am going through at this time. I'm riding around on a bike, lost, and the only thing the bike is helping me do is to get lost faster. The city has mainly one way streets and the way these people drive I am deathly afraid of riding down a one way and even more afraid of going down the wrong way so I spend a lot of this time on the sidewalk. (A bumpy sidewalk with trees in the middle that I have to duck under; I also have dogs, dog poop, and people to avoid. But there are ramps...just not where you need them to be.) 

So I'm lost, without a cell phone to contact any coaches or teammates; I know enough Spanish to ask for directions, but not enough to understand the response; and by this time I'm late for practice for a team that I haven't officially made yet!

Now I'm sweating while riding my bicycle alllll over the city. I don't have a watch on but I know I'm nice and late to practice. I finally give up and head  hoping to beg for forgiveness later when I see a one way street in the opposite direction that I hadn't been down. I figure I'd give it a try and sure enough I look to my right and see the gym.

Normally at this point anyone would sprint as hard as they can on their bike to get to the gym. Not me. Not in this city with the way people drive. 

-They don't have stop signs here and very few traffic lights, with a lot of intersections. What happens at these intersections with no traffic lights you ask? Well, they come to the intersection slow down to see if another car is coming and then go. If two cars come to the intersection at the same time then the most aggressive driver goes. Again, highest cause of death in this country-car accidents.

I get to the gym and check my phone to see how late I am...it's 10:47. Yes, 47 minutes I was riding around lost. Oh boy. I go to explain the best way I know how to the coach what happened and he just laughs at me. The assistant coach wasn't there so I know he is driving around looking for me. I jump into practice (I obviously didn't need to warm up) and explain to my teammates what happened and they all laugh. 

When practice finished, I went to put on my shirt I had come to the gym with and it was sweatier than the jersey I just practiced in! I was also told 15 different times that we had practice later today at 4, at the same gym. Why yes...I was the first person there at the next practice. What a day!

Black Lance Armstrong? Yes mom, I will get a helmet.

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Wrapping up week one

Can someone explain this bathroom?

So this is just going to be some interesting points from the week.

I found out that we have a tournament starting Thursday with the local teams. This will be my test. This is when everything is on the line. I will be ready. I am ready. I've been ready.

I have gotten adjusted to their eating schedule. I have come to terms with the fact that they don't eat a big breakfast, and they only eat twice a day. I start the day by eating bread and juice at breakfast and then I got to practice. When we are done with practice I head to the restaurant, loosen my belt, and get ready to do some work. I eat so much that I don't have to eat again until 8. At one point the waiters at the restaurant didn't believe me when I kept ordering food. They thought that I didn't understand what I was doing. But I knew. I ate like a bear before winter. They started calling my "fatty" in Spanish, but I didn't care. I ate the amount of four meals and two. Problem solved!

I'm still not fully acclimated to their way of greeting here. I mean most of the time they shake hands which is fine, but sometimes they lean in for a cheek-to-cheek kiss. I just try to stand far away and reach out my hand to greet and most of the time it works. But sometimes...well, hopefully I'll get used to it.

Here are some more things that are different about our cultures:

• Well my first day here I had some sheep for lunch. It was pretty good actually.
• Here, they don't really use the concept of standing in a line. When you walk into a store with a lot of people, everyone just goes to the counter. Quite peculiar.
• I've seen this in other countries as well that I just wanted to point out that dogs roam freely like birds here.
• Oh yes. Well I was a germaphobe when I left Virginia. Not anymore. I can't be because I would go crazy. They are not as worried about germs as we are in the US.
• Also, there is no such thing as a "pedestrian". These people drive like they are insane and you cross the street at your own risk because they are not stopping. At all. Don't even think about walking in front of a car. Car accidents are the leading cause of death in this country...enough said.
• I almost forgot a big one: between the hours of 2 and 5, the city is shut down. I mean shut down. All the restaurants are closed. The grocery store is closed. The toy store is closed. (Don't judge me) I call this time, Nap Time. I'm going to pray that nothing happens to me during "Nap Time" because I'm pretty sure the hospital is closed too! On the flip side, restaurants stay open until at least 2; so they make up for lost time.

Um, Where are my bags?

Black Michael Phelps?

I spent most of Sunday just hanging out in my room and talking to people letting them know I'm ok. I speak with the coach (via John) and he tells me about his coaching style and what he expects. He also says that practice starts on Monday and we'll be having two-a-days. No problem. After four year in Virginia there is nothing that they could do to hurt me right? Wrong! But I'll get to that later.

So Sunday comes and goes...and still no bags. Everyone I talk to says don't worry they'll be there Monday before practice (my bball shoes are in there). So Monday comes. Conditioning outside running hills. Not bad. After we finish I ask about my bags. They say that Monday is a holiday so they won't be here until Tuesday. Definitely Tuesday.

I am an optimist and I am slow to anger, so waiting until Tuesday didn't bother me. I got to practice and I had to use someone else's shoes. I wear a size 16, I was wearing a 14 1/2. Why yes! My feet did hurt! But I was so ready to play basketball I didn't care. Practice started well. We did some one on one drills and I blew by my defender and had a dunk...twice. Four on four was going well until....OW a cramp. I had a cramp in my calf my first practice. I tried to play through it but I couldn't. I'm pretty sure it was because 7:30 and I had only eaten once. Ok Tuesday I would have a new gameplan.

Tuesday. My bags are here right? Nope. Now they say Wednesday. Still feeling optimistic. In the morning we lifted and I did my own thing. No offense but I'm sure I know more than the strength coach they have. Anyway, after that we went swimming. Now, I know how to swim (learned in elementary school), but it's not something that I do often or hardly ever. And it showed. Boy did it show. If I wasn't tall enough to stand up in the water, I wouldn't be writing this blog...

Anyway I survived and had a very good practice. No cramping, but still in 14 1/2.

It's Wedensday! My shoes and my bags are here right? You guessed it, they still weren't here. They said tomorrow...again. This is when I started to get frustrated. I mean how could you blame me? It was day four and still no bags and the two cities are only 7 hours apart. But ok, made it through Wednesday.

Thursday rolls around and I'm not expecting my bags. I was tired of having my heart broken day after day. But today when my ride came to pick me up I heard my three favorite Spanish words, "Tengo tus maletas". (I have your bags)

You know what...swimming wasn't that bad Thursday. Wasn't bad at all.

Rio Tercero! Primer Dia

So up until this point, the only person I have spoken to in the country was the agent. He had his son and another player on another team with him, but they didn't speak English. It was fine though, the kid was young and the other player wasn't on my team, but I knew that the people I met in the city would surely speak some English...Wrong again!

-No one speaks English. Not my coach. Not the president. Not the owner. Not my teammates. I mean they know a few words, but definitely don't have command of the language. The only two people that do in this city are my one American teammate and my friend who I met that lives here but goes to college in another town, we will call him John. Now back to the story.

So I had lunch and the agent and my friend translated for me. Then my agent left and they brought me to the hotel and I slept.

-So I came here under the conditions that it was a two-week tryout period. I had to pay for my plane tickets, but they would pay for food and housing. If I made the team they would reimburse me the money for the plane ticket.

I woke up and I was of course hungry. It was about 7 pm in Rio Tercero (an hour ahead of eastern time) when I decided to go to the restaurant beside my hotel. Locked. A chill went down my spine as my stomach grumbled. I decided that I would just find something else to eat. I walk down the street and I see nothing to eat. Again I had no way of contacting anyone and didn't know how to order anything. After a half an hour I decided to walk back home and just eat a sandwich I had from the trip. I walked by the restaurant again and I saw that some of its curtains were open! I saw someone inside and knocked. They came to door and I said one of the few Spanish words I knew, "Abierto?" He said no and started speaking in Spanish. I asked he spoke English, he said no. However, we were able to communicate that the were open at 8 pm. Huh? They are closed at 7, but open at 8? I said ok and went back to my room until 8.

I came back to the restaurant at 8:15 and sure enough, they were open. New problem. Ordering food. They gave me a menu and I ordered the only word that I understood. LASAGNA! It was very good and filling so I was happy. I went back to my room and John messaged me on facebook to see if I wanted to go bowling and hang out at 11. "Sure why not", I responded.

After bowling we sat down and talked and I asked him questions about Argentina including why in the world was the restaurant closed at 7 and open at 8. He told me about how here in Argentina they don't eat a big American style breakfast, they eat a regular lunch, and then don't eat again until 8 or 9... WHAT!?! My first thought was I'm going to starve here. There is no way that I could go from eating      At    Least    four meals a day to only two! Anyways, we hung out until about 1:30 and then we decided to go home. I noticed when we were leaving that there were still children running around...these people are like owls. Day 1 done.

A Whole New Word -Aladdin

So I figured that I would blog about my time overseas. This is my first attempt at this so I'll see how it goes...

So after a long and sometimes frustrating summer I landed in Rio Tercero, Argentina. It was crazy because I found out on Sunday Aug. 8th that the team, called 9 de Julio Rio Tercero, wanted me to come that same weekend for a tryout. At this point I was still in Virginia with all of my stuff which had to get back to Louisiana before I left. So I set off for Baton Rouge the next day; unpacked, repacked, and set off for Argentina on Friday.

I got into Buenos Aires Saturday morning after a 10 hour flight (luckily I had three seats to lay across). Now I had flown internationally before so I knew that you had to pick up your bags and bring them through customs and immigration. But in Argentina you go through customs and immigration before baggage claim. So after I got through customs and immigration I looked at my last ticket and it said, "Your bags will be at your final destination", so I walked right past baggage claim. Bad Move!

I arrived in Cordoba (an hour drive from where I am) and my bags were not with me! So imagine this: I arrive in an airport in a different country without my bags, my phone doesn't work, I don't know Spanish well enough to communicate what had happened, and I have never met nor seen the person that is supposed to be picking me up... But like being at the free throw line when the game is on the line, I was calm. Luckily the person at baggage claim knew English. They gave me a number to call and said it should be here soon. I gave that number to the agent that was picking me up; he talked to them and he said I should have my bags that day or the next. Great!...I wish.

We drive to Rio Tercero and talk about ourselves and he explained some of the things that I need to know. We arrive in the city, it's small but it is very compact with a lot of buildings so it doesn't feel small. We get there and I had lunch with the coaches, owner, president, and staff.

I'll start a new blog for my in-city adventures.