Not Undefeated

The Sharks fell this past Saturday at the hands of the Barcelona Bufals 13-8. It was very upsetting even though it doesn't matter all that much for our playoff hopes. We had too many turnovers and penalties and they came at the worst times - at start of drives and on defensive third down situations. My mom and Emily were in town for the game so it was a bummer to play such a crummy game while they were here. However, they enjoyed meeting the team and watching us play, so it was all good. And like I said, we will still make the playoffs if we can win the rest of our games, and most importantly the rematch against Barcelona on April 18th at home.

Home field advantage here in Spain is very important; not only was it a 10 hour drive, but many players have jobs and families and a few starters weren't at the game. Only in Spain right? Well we are glad to have played a close game on the road even though we committed so many mistakes. Since we now play the same four teams again, our confidence is high that we can win the rest of our games.

While we did lose the game, the trip to Barcelona was amazing. I left on Thursday afternoon with Deb and Em, and we flew into Girona on RyanAir. This is a lot like flying into Manchester, NH on Southwest Airlines. The flight was only 20 euros each for a one way ticket. Cheap right? No. You definitely learn a lot on your first RyanAir flight... First was typical, 30 euro to check a bag, but you can't buy an extra seat to put your bag in. Pretty standard in this day and age. So we arrive at the airport and Emily and my mom each have a bag to check and we all a carry on bag. When we go to check in the women says to me (in Spanish) this bag is 13 kilos over the 15 kilo weight limit and will cost 20 euros/kilo.... After realizing that we're looking at $400 to check the bag, we start throwing things away and thinking about solutions. One of the things in the bag were a few bottles of wine that my mother was bringing home for gifts. Well those had to go. So after an hour of reorganizing and drinking, we finally were able to check a 3rd bag instead of a carry-on for only 30 euro more and we were feeling really good about it all.

We get to Girona, still a little giddy and went to our hotel there. We had decided to book a room there rather than going all the way to Barcelona right away. For dinner we went to el casco antiguo, the old town, and found a nice Spanish restaurant. It was a fun trip and I was glad we were able to see that area, but I was excited to get to Barcelona. We took an early train to Barcelona the next morning and find that our hotel is right in the middle of the city - it was great. We got to see Park Guell, La Sagrada Familia, a huge monument to Cristobal Colon (Christopher Columbus for all the nonners), The Cathederal, and of course endless vendors of FC Barcelona soccer jerseys. Barca is arguably the best club team in the world and after winning the Champion's League last year, they went out and spent over 250 million euro on new players... Sounds a lot like the Yankees.

After one guy chased me out of his store yelling he'd "KICK MY ASS!", we hiked back to the area around our hotel and bargained with a guy for 20 minutes before settling on Zlatan Ibrahimovic's jersey for 20 euro. He's the newest addition to the squad, a Swede signed this year for an A-Rod sized contract. I was really looking for Lionel Messi jersey, but they didn't have my size, but I'm psyched about Ibrahimovic, so it all worked out.

The best part of the story is later that night, when I met up with the team at the hotel they were staying at, I decided to wear this new jersey out for our team dinner. When I walked out of the elevator, I instantly heard the roar of a riot forming. Every Spanish curse word I'd ever heard of was being screamed at me, along with plenty that I didn't understand. Two guys grabbed me and tried to carry me back to the elevator and up to my room. At first I was very confused, but then realized wearing the Barca jersey around people from Andalucia (the southern part of Spain) was like wearing a Yankees jersey into a Red Sox Fanclub initiation. Haha, but I didn't care, it was all in good fun. One guy pulled out his lighter and tried to set the shirt on fire while I was still wearing it. After a few guys got everyone else settled down and we walked to the restaurant, I spoke with a few of the guys in Spanish about Barcelona. After an embarrassing exchange of words, I came to realize that the reason everyone hates Barcelona is that they are part of Catalunia - the northern state in Spain, that has basically been trying to secede from Spain for many years. Apparently, when Barcelona goes to the UK to play a match, and they play the Spanish national anthem, the Barcelona fans boo. So this rivalry goes beyond just sports, it's about national pride.

When I told the guys that I also bought a Christiano Renaldo, Real Madrid jersey last week, they laughed. I can't say I'd have the same reaction if some punk bought a Patriots and a Jets jersey and I knew about it.

On Sunday night, after the loss, me, AJ, and Axe - our 240 pound Finnish middle linebacker decided to stay around and go out. Of course I decide to rock the Barca jersey again, considering we were in Barcelona and it turned out that FC Barcelona's basketball team actually beat Real Madrid in the National Championship earlier that night. So instead of being attacked for wearing the shirt, everyone was coming up and giving me high fives in celebration of the big win.

At 6am I heard my alarm going off and realized I had to leave the club and get back to the hotel to say goodbye to my mom and sister, who had an early flight. Emily had decided not to join us at the bar this night, one was enough for her. Haha, she did in fact come out with me on Friday night, but I kept a keen eye on here and made sure she had nothing in her glass except deliciously refreshing Coca-Cola. The Coke is actually a lot better here than in the states, because they use actual sugarcane instead of corn syrup, but that's another story. Well, I almost missed them leaving because we had a "I take the stairs and they ride down the elevator" sort of moment, but when I found the room empty I started running full speed out of the hotel and to the subway. I yelled my mom's name just as she was about to go through the turnstile of the station. Lucky. I said goodbye to them and headed back to the bar to find my friends. I was very happy that they had come to visit. We had a lot of fun together and got to enjoy a bunch of very cool experiences.

The next day we got up and messed around killing time until Mike wanted to drive back south to Marbella. The maids finally kicked us out of the room a few hours after checkout. (Mom, don't worry, you're not getting a charge, we took care of it at the front desk - since doce (12) sounds a lot like dos (2), we pretended to be stupid Americans with poor Spanish skills.... Pretended?) So we went up to El Camp Nou, FC Barcelona's 100,000 seat stadium and then went and found a bar. We finally left Barcelona at 9pm. I took the liberty of co-piloting while AJ and Axe slept in the back. It was an 11 hour journey home, me and Mike spliting up the driving halfway, but we made it. Alive.

The last few days have been real lazy. I cannot believe it's already Friday. Finally though, the rain has stopped and I'm sitting outside shirtless catching some great bene's (beneficial rays of glorious sunshine) as I write this. You'll have to forgive any mistakes, I'm just way too lazy to proofread right now.