At 6.20 the first alarm rings. I remember grabbing the clock and making the decision to stay awake. Today. The first game. Goddamn. 6.21 the espresso machine is switched on. 6.22 alarm radio switches on. At 6.25 I realize I'm under the shower. 6.37 I'm frying eggs and bacon. I pull my first espresso and when I dare looking out of the window I see nothing but rain and clouds that are moving fast. 6.40 Radio plays 'Summer in the City' 6.45 The biggest breakfast in years, including toast, grapefruit juice and some sausage 7.05 The packing of the bag which I prepared the night before. 7.09 Tiptoeing into the bedroom because I forgot my socks and my shirt. 7.15 A last espresso and a look at the sky. The clouds are gray like lead and the rain is pouring steadily. There's no real belief in an actual game. 7.25 I can't believe I had more breakfast this morning, than I had in the whole of 2007 (combined). 7.26 Hug from I.I. who wants me to hit a triple, I bargain for two singles. 7.27 I leave the house.7.30 Meet up around the corner. There's hi's in coarse voices, there's shakes, we move to the car. 7.35 The Buick is huge, but with 4 guys inside we drag the exhaust pipe over the speed bumps. We hear very loud sounds of scraping metal, which I think is great on Sunday mornings. 7.40 It's still raining, no way there's gonna be a game, but nobody gives a shit. 7.41 Baseball is rock'n'roll. 7.47 We pull up at the gas station at the highway to meet the rest of the team 7.50 Coffee, more thumb up shakes, faint smiles of mutual understanding. Updates on missing team members 8.00 The rain stopped, the sky is a bit lighter and there's a bit of wind. For a second, we all feel the same: this game is a go. We speed off to the baseball field, Tomtomming our way through the village.
8.15 We arrive at the field, the rain is whipping us and the wind doubled in speed. One look at the terrain and it is clear that we came for nothing. Muddy pools, no clubhouse open, there's nobody there anyway. 8.17 We are soaked from the walk to the car to the changing rooms. 8.25 Ten men are sitting and passing time with smoking and locker room talk. 8.35 Less rain, more wind. 8.40 Cancellations are confirmed over the phone. We leave without actually having seen anybody, no team, no janitor, not a living soul. 8.41 More and more rain, we go back to the car, we drive back home. 8.44 The whole experience feels like an absurd procession for this church called baseball 8.45 This is how we won our first game.
