Saturday was special here in my neck of the woods. The American men in our city decided to get together and hang from noon on. In this city of many millions (literally), there are only a handful of Americans who live here permanently. My guess is 30-50 in total. This is probably a generous guess, as I personally only of know 22. Of that number, 11 are men.
Ten of the eleven men I know in this city decided to dub the 6th day of last week. . . “Baseball Saturday”. The content of the day was simple; American food and baseball all day. We were to both play baseball and watch baseball in the midst of gorging on red meat and other such American culinary delights.
We met for lunch at McDonald’s (the only “American restaurant” within an hour of where I live). After destroying our bodies, we headed over to a local university in search of a field to play baseball. Between all of us, we have seven baseball gloves, two baseball bats, and four actual baseballs, so “playing baseball” is a pretty generous description of what we were planning.
We found a soccer field, but were quickly dispersed by an official university function.
We ended up finding our way to a dimly lite, closed basketball gym on campus. We decided the place was perfect for our “Plan B”. [Read more…]