First Game against Stockholm

First, I should mention that Timor's house is a good 45 minute drive from the field. It's an hour and a half by public transportation. So Timor and I rode the subway for about 4o minutes and then got picked up by 2 Cuban ballplayers, Alexis and Joaquim. Both are great guys. During the car ride. The two Cubans talk to each other in Spanish, talk to Timor in Swedish, and me in English. I try to talk to Joaquim and Alexis in Spanish, but unless they speak to me like I'm a retarded baby, I have a hard time understanding them. Joaquim is going to help me with my Spanish, and I'm excited about that.

So we got to the field late and didn't have time for batting practice, and we only had time to stretch for 20 minutes! Anders, our 40+ year old first baseman/pitcher/coach greets me, and tells me I'm going to DH, and hit 2nd. Poor decision, but I'm thinking, ''Maybe the pitching is really that bad.'' Anders goes on to tell me that a lot of Americans just try to hit home runs, and it'd be fine if I just got on base. Again, I should mention that I haven't hit in over 2 years, and wasn't enjoying these great expectations.

We're the home team, so our pitcher, Pedro, goes to work. I really can't describe what I saw. Pedro is left handed, and threw like a homosexual shot putter. The ball went about 50 mph. Apparently he has a change-up that's even slower. This is Swedish baseball??? Am I going to be hitting .700 and striking out everyone on fastballs? I'm thinking, at least I get to visit Sweden for an entire summer, even if the baseball is awful. Then their pitcher started warming up.

Apparently Stockholm's pitcher plays for the Swedish national team. He throws around 75 mph, and has four different pitches. Timor is the lead-off hitter, and he walks. Now it's time for my Swedish debut. The first pitch comes in: fastball, ball. The next pitch is thrown: slider, strike. I nod, like I know what I'm doing. I'm all geared up for the next pitch. It's a fastball and I swing. I foul it off, but am behind the ball as much as I could possibly be, and decide I shouldn't be using a 33-30 bombat (it's a wood bat league). The next pitch comes in: fastball, inside, that backs me off the plate. STRIKE THREE!!! At least I wasn't trying to hit a home run. I took some batting practice in the cage before my next at bat.

Great, they want me to bunt. I hope I don't get hit in the face. That's probably the worst thing to think before bunting, but whatever. I turn to bunt and it's a fastball. Fuck! It's coming right at me! I turn away and it hits me right in the left forearm and swells up immediately. I test my arm and hand, and they still work! Awesome! I didn't strike out!

For my third at bat, I decided to be more aggressive. The first pitch comes in and I take a huge hack. Unfortunately, it's a fastball at eye level, strike one. The next pitch comes in, and I take another big hack. Crack! Oh my God! I hit the ball in play! And by ''in play,'' I mean the guy jammed the shit out of me and I hit a dribbler towards third. The third baseman threw me out by three steps.

I can't tell you how excited I was to ground out weakly to third! It was a blast! And I'm really not being sarcastic. After a pitching and positional change, the DH was removed. We ended up losing 3-6, and fell to 0-6 as a team. I was very happy to have taken a baby step towards a hit, and to have an On Base Percentage. I was looking forward to the next day, when I'd get to show my actual talent: pitching.