The Need for Speed.

Every so often you have a moment/day/week that forces you to pause and take stock of things; acknowledge how undeservedly blessed we are despite whatever challenges we may also be assuming, and that each moment, bad or good, is an exceptional gift. My week was brimming with moments like this, reminders of how strikingly fleeting everything is. Heidi was my first indication.

Heidi is one of those rare and kind individuals that no one can speak ill of simply because they are wholly good. We hadn’t seen each other for at least a year, though I surmise it was probably closer to two. What a treat it was, catching up on the new and nostalgically musing over our old college days. This was when I had my moment, my brief pause—remembering our UW experience together, it seemed like just yesterday we were there, losing coaching staffs, losing games, losing our minds at times. And now… now we are playing professionally in Europe. How incredibly fortunate we are, I thought. Even more incredible was our trip to Berlin we had planned. But I had a game to play first, so hold your horses.

You know that saying, “you can’t make em all”? Well I hate it. Why can’t you? Is there some rule, some stupid rule that says this? “You can’t miss em all”, now that should be the saying. Far more encouraging, and when you think about it, how impressive would that be to miss every shot? That cannot be easy. At some point, you figure you would just accidentally make one. Anyways, I think you get where I am going with this—I could not buy a basket in my game Saturday against Osnabruck. And for some reason, everyone kept saying this to me—“oh don’t worry, you can’t make em all.” No, maybe not, but ONE? You think that is expecting too much? Don’t say free throws, cause those don’t count. They’re free, after all, if you can’t make those you should probs hang it up, pal. Despite me, the game was close and winnable up to the point we lost. Just like that, I was faced with my second “reminder” and our win streak was over. Fleeting. 

Admittedly, after the game, Berlin seemed like an awful idea. All I wanted to do was hide under my blankets with a two pound bag of candy and my Ipod, while easing into a sugar coma. Hard to imagine anything better, but after Sunday, I can assure you there is. Speed. It’s a shame how quickly you all assume the worst. Fine, I will clarify. The autobahn. Germany really got it right with this, I tell you what. No speed limit? I literally may never leave. I was able to use a team car to drive Heidi and I to Berlin, and fortunately, George, my beloved Isuzu back in Cali, is stick, so I knew what I was doing, so to speak. I know what you are thinking—there should always be a speed limit for women drivers, but I was made for this. If I were better at left turns, I’d be the next Danica Patrick, except successful. I topped out at 180 kph, which is like 112 mph. Don’t be too impressed though cause really, at that speed, the car is driving itself. Turned out to be very cathartic and by the time we reached Berlin I was rejuvenated.

Berlin is transcendent. It’s rather like a time machine. Every building, every memorial is a portal back to some year. It is difficult to not be moved by the history of the city, it’s resiliency. We walked around all day, literally, and surely didn’t even see half the city. We did see quite a bit though: Brandenburg tor, Reichstag, Berliner Dom, Checkpoint Charlie, the Wall, Holocaust memorial, Potsdamer Platz and Alexander Platz. Another one of my friends from home was auspiciously visiting Berlin that weekend as well, so we were able to meet, too. Daniel is of the Olivier family. Nuff said. That family pees genius. Needless to say, it was great getting to see him.

Speaking of pee, my coach was fired Monday. Sorry, there is no clever segue for that I’m afraid. I know I didn't talk about him much, but I really liked my coach, so I am pretty bummed about it. This makes me 4-4 now with coaches being fired after coaching me—two college coaches, two professional coaches (the Chicago Sky coach was fired the season I was cut; normally I wouldn’t count it since I was barely on the team, but it helps my argument). You’ve heard of the Midas touch, well, I got the opposite of that. It’s a good thing my High School coach was a legend before I got to him, cause any less and I bet I woulda taken him down, too. Our new coach is the guy that coached the U-17 team here…and did I mention he is dating one of my teammates? My life just turned into a soap opera, but one of the good ones like General Hospital. Not like that stupid one Passions that had ventriloquist dummies running around killing people. Gimme a break NBC daytime.

We play Saturday at Oberhausen, some 6 hours away. I am choosing to be optimistic about the situation. I have the benefit of previous experience with this, if you want to call it a benefit, so I know that while it seems like it can’t get any worse, it really can if we don’t get our minds right. Time to embrace change and get some perspective: least I still have my job.
Fleeting.