Oh the Funk...

It’s been a while since I have last written…partly because we did not have a game last weekend and partly because not too much has been going on. Let’s see, what has happened…Staying true to my Lenten commitment to abstain from alcholol, I have had many opportunites to drive my friends home lately which is always an adventure. Driving on the other side of the road, and the car, and shifting gears with your left hand is intense. British people tend to be a lot more free with honking their horn. In fact, basically everyone outside of the US seems to use their horn for different purposes. For example, the US honk is an exagerated slam on the horn, "BBBBEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPP!!!" usually translated into, "Sh**!! What the F***!! IDIOT!!" and I tend to take it quite personally, always scanning the scene to make sure it was not directed at me. However, the international honk can sometimes mean the same as the American, but more often is "beep", "Hey mate, just making sure you see me- Cheers!!" I think the horn usage is due to the fact that there is so much city driving. Its not like you can just hop on I-5 and put your car in cruise control until you get there. Driving here is intense, with massive roundabouts and the smallest lanes you have ever seen. Surpsisingly, I enjoy it quite a bit...

Valentines Day was quite uneventful, although I did go out to dinner with the girls and fell down the stairs at the restaurant- which is always fun.

Since moving in to our new place, we have learned that somewhere within the general smelling vicinity there is a sewage treatment plant, and every now and again is just plain FUNKY!! In 'smellilar' news (hehe), the people who live below us consistently cook raunchy Chinese food and the smell lingers in the hall for days. I don't want to know what the inside of their flat smells like considering the smell in the hallway makes my eyes water. I mean, it’s a dead sprint for me to get up the stairs, fight through the ‘funk’, open our door and get to what I like to call, the “safe zone”!! Luckily unlike heat, ‘funk’ does not rise.

This week, my teammate gave me a couple of guest passes to her gym. She told me it was nice, but a gym is a gym so I didn’t think too much of it- until I got there. This place was crazy!! To access any of the equipment you have to insert a card/key into the machine. In this card is a record of all your previous workouts, how much weight you lifted, or how far you ran, how many calories you burned off, etc. You can program your workouts into it as well so you know what exercises to do. It even charts your cardio workouts in comparison to the Tour De France if you ride the bike (i.e. which stage of the tour you would be at considering how far you’ve biked since you’ve joined the gym) or the New York Marathon if you use the treadmill (i.e. which borough matches the distance you have run). I felt like my parents or grandparents astounded by the latest technology, with the words, "Back in my day..." about to jump off the tip of my tongue. There was also a gorgeous pool, hot tub, steam room, sauna….all that good stuff. This place was incredibly impressive- even a bit glamorous which got me thinking. Are workouts glamorous? I know I don’t feel glamorous when I work out considering I sweat as much as the Shaq in the fourth quarter. Having access to all of the latest technology and gym equipment is fantastic and why not take advantage of it if you can, but I think I’ve seen the ‘Rocky’ movies a few too many times. There is something about getting through a workout despite the circumstance; it’s that extra fight in you that makes you want something that much more because it’s difficult. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m out chasing chickens like good ol’ Rock, but I’m just saying that I have much respect for those people who have the fight in them to disregard the conditions and get the job done even when it’s not easy.

Which brings me to our game this weekend which I would like to avoid writing about, but am hoping that writing will bring healing….Why would I need healing? Read on…

As I mentioned earlier we did not have a game the weekend of the 16th and our coach gave us basically a week off… I used it as an opportunity to get in the gym to get some shots up and work on my game. Then we had practice on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday this week to prepare for our game. Well, we had 7 people at practice on Tuesday, 5 people on Thursday and 2 people on Friday…DOS PERSONAS!! (1 person came half way through, so 2.5 to be fair). UNBELEIVABLE!! Well, having not practiced with a full team in two weeks we headed into our games yesterday against a team that has won I think ONE game all season- and we lost…yes lost. I can honestly say that I played as bad as I think I have played since I can remember which is crazy in my mind since I felt great before the game... My shot felt really good, I had a great warm-up, felt loose and ready to go… And then the ref threw the ball up for the opening tip and the nightmare began. I really don’t know what happened with me, but I threw the ball all over the gym (turnovers for those non ballers out there) and couldn’t hit a shot if my life depended on it…I think the only thing I can think of is that I was worked up mentally about people not coming to practice that week and the lack of commitment shown by a few of my teammates. However, I really tried to bag those negative thoughts because I knew it was something I had no control over. Well, I can be pissed about that until the cows come home, but the people that missed practice outplayed me- straight up. I didn’t play in the 4th quarter, and frankly looking back I didn’t deserve it. I take full responsibility for what I did out ther and point no fingers. I believe in a few of my other blog entries I spoke about basketball being just a game and I have learned to separate basketball with the rest of my life. Well, that method of thinking has been completely thrown out the window in the last 48 hours… I've been in a FUNK- let me tell you. I’m pissed…mostly at myself for not being strong enough to pull myself out of my funk during the game, and pissed we lost to a team with who we should have wiped the floor. Oh boy...But I'm gonna bounce back, that's for sure. Can't wait til practice this week...We play next weekend and I WILL be ready.

My Rant...

This week I got a job…well a job for when I go back to the US at least. I have a friend (LOVE YOU BETH!!) who works for a summer camp in Massachusetts. For her, it’s a full time job, not just in the summers so she’s constantly planning and getting things together. Well, she told me that the camp was looking for a head basketball director and asked me if I’d be interested. I said of course and got the camp directors information. It turned out that they did recruiting for counselors in the UK and were coming to London. I met up with them and they offered me the job!! I will be heading to Massachusetts in mid June and won’t be coming home until the end of August. You know me, still trying to delay the whole adult life!!

Lent began on Wednesday and in the tradition of giving something up I decided to abstain from alcohol. Its not like I drink all that much anyways, but I decided to change it up from my normal rotation of giving up fast food, swearing, sweets, or shopping. My flat mate Lucy recently made me drive her car back from the grocery store in an audition to be her new designated driver!! You know how we have fat Tuesday in the US? It’s supposed to be about loading up on your vices before you abstain for the Lenten season. Well, in the UK, they have Pancake Day. I wasn’t really sure what was going on because the week leading up to Pancake Day, at the grocery store there were endless displays of pancake mix. Being the Colombo that I am, I figured it out so I am now sharing my learning experience with you!

This weekend I had an Oprah moment. For those of you who don’t know what an Oprah moment is, she always speaks of ‘coming full circle’ and basically having a self-epiphany. For me, my full circle moment involved me being an American. Growing up, I was as patriotic as any other kid, I mean I had American flag high top Cnverse for goodness sakes. I paid attention as best I could in history class, memorized the essential names and dates, and generally thought of my country as a great place. As I’ve gotten older though, American history has become less about the rhetoric and more about the reality. The book I am currently reading is entitled, “A Peoples History of the United States” by Howard Zinn. If you’ve never read it, trust me, it’s a MUST read. It gives insight about the people- slaves, women, the poor, etc.- and what their lives were like and will basically blow away your perception of how this country has evolved. However, even knowing some of America’s dirty laundry, I think there is something in me, that’s in every American for that matter, that gets a little puffy chested and patriotic when the star spangled banner is played.

Living out of the country has allowed me to get an insight to what the rest of the world really thinks about us Yanks. Being the only American on my team, there is quite a bit of friendly banter that goes on about silly things such as fast food to more serious things such as American foreign policy. It’s all in good fun, but it’s obvious that the world sees us a certain way, and its not always in a positive light. If I’ve learned anything from my experience abroad, I’ve learned that I am a walking representation of my country and can either live up to or defy stereotypes that others may have of us.

…Why the rant about America? This weekend we played the top team in the league. They are a solid team, with a big budget, that play in the FIBA cup (this means that besides our league play, they are simultaneously playing in a tournament with top teams throughout the rest of Europe). Well, we got KILLED…by 45…points…No, that is not a typo. So we are down 40 in the 4th quarter and the 2 American girls on their team (of course) were talking trash and acting like they wanted to fight someone. THEY WERE UP 40!! What’s the point? I think they even had 2 flagrant fouls called on them. Maybe as I’ve grown up I’ve lost my “going into battle” mentality when walking on the basketball court, but I do not apologize for that. Basketball is a game. A game, that’s it. Of course I want to win every time I step on the court, but I will win with class and lose with class. These girls just have no idea that with that game, they are fed into every stereotype that the rest of the world has of arrogant, ignorant, disrespectful Americans.

Moving...Check!!

I finally moved into my new place!! I am living with two of my teammates, Lucy and Patricia in a nice flat in a lovely little area called Isleworth. Obviously, it’s pretty easy for me to move considering I only have what was allowed of me on the plane which is roughly equal to the weight of one of the Olson twins. My flatmates, however, had a more in depth move.

Both Lucy and Paty have full time jobs so the only option was to move in the evening. Terry, our coach, volunteered one of his friends, Jack, who has a large van to help with the big ticket items, beds, tv’s, all that good stuff. Honestly, by the look on Jack’s face I don’t think he realized exactly what he signed up for, but he was a trooper considering we really didn’t know him. We packed the first load into the van, drove across the city and arrived at our new place around 10pm. We tried to be quiet and not be the rude new neighbors in our building (where there are about 6 other tenants), but trying to be quiet while moving a bigscreen TV up 2 flights of stairs is almost impossible. I kind of felt like a robber in reverse. Instead of taking stuff from somebody’s place in the middle of the night, we were moving stuff in and trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake up the neighbors. Luckily, we weren’t the rude new tenants because no one woke up to tell us we were too loud. At least now I know if this whole basketball thing doesn’t work out, I can always find work as a bandit.

All that moving reminded me of my sophomore year in college. Now, if you are interested in unique methods for cruel and unusual punishment go ahead and write this down. Make someone lift as much as they can, as many times as they can (max out) with both their arms and legs. Then, immediately force them to move all their crap out of a dorm room without an elevator. This is what my basketball coach decided to do that on the last day of school. She wanted to see how much we could lift in the weight room so she could tell how much we improved over the summer. Fair enough, but Megan and I still had to move ALL of our stuff into a storage unit. Of course we did our duty in the weight room and walked back to our unpacked dorm room with jelly legs and arms. Have your legs ever been so dead that when you walk down stairs you have to literally have no control over the depth that they bend so you end up flailing your body as fast as you can down the stairs just hoping that your feet will at least stay under you when you get to the bottom? Yeah…me too…well, imagine you’re holding a 36” TV as well…


I had my first day coaching at a primary school on Tuesday. When I spoke with the woman who was in charge of assigning coaches she told me that I would probably get about 20 kids or so. That’s a good number for a group, but she then casually threw in another important bit of information, that I would only have 1 BASKET!! 1 BASKET?? Are you kidding? 1 basket+ 20 kids= too many kids standing around!! Luckily, I had a chance to collect some ideas from a couple people as well as tap into my right brain to get creative. I felt like the basketball MacGuver or something…and had to make a bomb out of a toothpick and a bobby pin. Thankfully, things went just fine.

We had a game this weekend against the London Towers, our cross city rivals!! Not really, but it sounds like it would be a rivalry considering we are the only 2 London teams. We started off really strong in the first quarter and jumped on them 17-2 in the opening minutes. But then we had a few fouls called and the next thing we knew they were on the free throw line and we were only up by 7 going into the 2nd quarter. We played well in the 2nd and were up by about 18 at halftime. Well, our usual 4th quarter woes came a bit early this game. In the 3rd, we couldn’t score and they rallied to within about 6 points I think at one time. It was not pretty and I think we only scored 8 points total that quarter. In the 4th we picked it up slightly and ended up with a W, winning by 12 or so. Thank the Lord because we need a win to break our 4 game losing streak.

Life at the new flat is good, but I’m still getting used to the transportation aka buses that I need. The 267 bus is my go-to bus. It pretty much gets me everywhere I need to go, yoga, the train station- wherever. But this thing is never on time. NEVER!! It’s not the driver or the bus’s fault, but the route it takes always has traffic. I was late meeting Helen, the woman I paint with by 1 ½ hours this week which made me feel horrible. I can’t stand being late. Ever since then (and the time I had to wait out in the cold for 40 minutes after yoga with wet hair) I have this overwhelming desire to flip the bird at the 267 whenever I see it. Obviously I’m not chasing the bus down giving it the finger, but for some reason just thinking about giving the bus the bird makes me laugh and usually shed some needed light on the situation.