The Best Fans in Baseball

After our loss to Dortmund I quickly cheered up with the reminder that two of my biggest supporters were coming in just a few days. Danny and I took some time to travel to nearby Munster by train on Monday, and it was an interesting day filled with random street parades, bike friendly people and plenty of good food and drinks. Munster is Germany’s most bike friendly city so of course we took our bikes on the Bahn railway and upon our arrival we rode around the city for several hours. However, as nice as the day was, I was still excited for Friday to come. Like I had said, my biggest fans were coming to town. Mom and Dad.

         Now, over the years in baseball I have always had my brother, sister, external family, friends and now Erin who have given me total support with my baseball endeavors. However, my mom and dad condensed two major things in me outside of being a good Christian; Baseball and travel. As I have mentioned in so many cases, the two have presented themselves very arbitrarily.

         When Friday came around, I rode my bike from practice through the busy streets of Paderborn where World Cup Fever had completely taken over! This place is absolutely CRAZY during the “Welt Meister!” I was excited that we would get to watch the worlds biggest sporting event together in a country where “Fusbol, fusball, or football,” rules the land. It’s still just soccer to me, however, I appreciate the culture of any sport, and I planned on taking part in as much of the World Cup as I could swallow.

Once I arrived to see my parents at their hotel I went to the front desk and asked what room they were in, and if they had checked in yet. As the front desk clerk asked me for my I.D. I went to my travel wallet where I store my Passport and could not find it. “Uh-oh, I must have left it in my room.”  I pulled out my California I.D. and the front desk informed me that they had not yet arrived. As I waited, I thought about my Passport. “Where could I have put it, I don’t remember taking it out of my wallet?!!?!”

Moments later a cab pulled up with Gail and Steve and I went out with a big smile, hugs and kisses followed, and as they settled in I talked away about my experiences and life in Europe. They were so excited to see me, as I was to see them. It was great seeing them, and they were planning on being in Germany for 11 days, capped with a short trip to Amsterdam with Danny and me the following weekend after our games near the Netherlands border. My mom had also worked out details to trace some of her family’s lineage to a small town that was near Hannover. We were planning on visiting the village of her great grandparents birthplace.

My parents made it safe, we watched some of the world cup together on Saturday as the US tied England one thing was bothering me, I could not find my passport! As I looked everywhere, with no avail, I got really worried. Although my attention was clearly on finding my passport, there was nothing I could do until Monday or Tuesday, and I had a double header against Hamburg on Sunday, which would mark the first time Steve and Gail would see me play baseball since I was a senior in college, just over four years ago. I was excited to play in front of them, and I honestly believe at this point in the season I am starting to bloom and I might even be better than I was the last time they saw me. The only difference is the competition is not the same. We ended up having a good day against Hamburg, and we won both games. I even got a few hits, a couple of doubles and threw a few runners out in front of my folks.

The funniest thing that I had ever seen on a baseball field happened at the “end” of game two. We were up by a score of 8-0 late in the game, and for some reason, someone (That someone being the German umpires) lost track of the innings. Danny pitched great but came out of the game in the 7^th and I thought to myself that it was the earliest we had taken him out of a game in nearly 3 months. That being so we all went in to cruse control.

It was the first, only, and most likely the last time that I will ever experience what happened next. As the 3^rd out of the top of the 8^th came, the umpires made it clear to both sides that it was the conclusion of the game. Nobody scoring the game said anything at first, and the rules in Germany are that you have to be up by 10 runs in the 7^th in order to have the mercy rule. On this particular day the scoreboard was not working properly, so we never really knew what inning it was, yet we clearly were NOT up by ten runs. It felt strange, and because we all thought the game was over, we shook hands with our team and then Hamburg and met down the left field line. As I was the last one out of the dugout while taking my gear off I heard one of the score keepers come down and say, “That was only 8 innings, we still need to play one more inning.” I couldn’t believe it! I asked if he was sure, and in a panic he said, “Yes, I am sure, that was only the top of the 8^th. I began to laugh hysterically and as I looked at our entire team down the left field line waiting for our postgame meeting and I yelled, “Hey, we need to play one more inning, that was only the top of the 8^th.”

Sure enough, as I yelled at the Hamburg team indicating that we were not done with the game, they all seemed to shrug their shoulders and get their gear and uniforms back on. I even laughed at my parents in the stands because they were up and ready to leave. I said, “Hey mom, hey dad, we need to finish the game because that was only 8 innings, welcome to German baseball!”

When we finished the game we all laughed about what had just happened, agreed that we had just experienced the strangest thing ever, and I had a great evening with my parents.

On Monday my parents wanted to see some of Northern Germany and after looking for my passport with no luck we headed to Cologne to spend the night and do some sightseeing. Danny and I tagged along and we enjoyed our time in the lounge area that had great appetizers, beer and the World Cup. It is always great to travel with my mom and dad because they truly do everything first class. Danny and I were spoiled being with them in Cologne for the night.

The next day I had planned to go to Frankfurt to get a new passport, yet I found out too late that I needed to have a police report in order to receive a new one. Since Frankfurt was a 4-hour drive away I realized I lost a day because I didn’t know what I was doing. On Wednesday I went to the police station near my house to report my passport missing. I spent about a half hour speaking with an officer. I needed a police report indicating that I lost my passport so I could replace it in Frankfurt at the US Embassy. Near the end of our report I remembered that someone had mentioned that Paderborn had its own Lost and Found Center, so I asked the officer (after we wrote the report) to call and see if I had any luck. At this point I was still planning on going to Frankfurt the next morning to visit the Embassy with all the necessary papers in order to receive a new passport. What was worse was the fact that I needed to extend my Visa on following Friday. YIKES!

As I waited patiently while the police officer called the center he was put on hold, and a few seconds later spoke with someone. All of a sudden his expression completely changed, he looked up at me as if he wanted to tell me something, then spoke back to the person on the other line. Once he set the phone down he told me in broken English, “Your passport was returned yesterday, it is at the office right next to us, the door is only 25 meters away, let us look for it.”

I jumped for joy! Somehow I had lost my passport, and someone turned it in. I have no idea how I lost it, but it happened! The most important thing was that it was found. Now, that is not the end of the story. Unfortunately, the office was closed early on Wednesday (at 12pm) so I needed to come back at 7am the next morning. The officer could not get me in, so he told me to come back if there were any problems.

The next morning I was at the center at 7am, and I spoke with two very helpful women who could not speak a lick of English. I found out that my passport was sent to the Dusseldorf Embassy the day before and the person who was in charge was sick. “Damm,” I thought. I needed to go to Dusseldorf to get it back and it was a three-hour train ride! I still was not as upset as I had been, until I found out that the earliest appointment I could make was the following Wednesday at a time I couldn’t make. Plus I was going to go to the Netherlands on Saturday and I would not be back until Tuesday morning. The only good thing was that I could travel to and from the Netherlands without my passport because they did not check them at the border.

So, after spending Saturday with my folks watching the world cup and exploring the Paderborn area we headed up to Dohren on Sunday for a double header against the Wild Farmer. I had told my parents that the drive was going to be about three-four hours long and that they should print directions before they left. I would not be able to travel with them because I had to leave with the team really early in the morning, so they would be driving themselves. I slept most of the way there, and upon our arrival I opened my eyes to what looked like Kansas. A field in the middle of nowhere, a howling wind to center, and corn fields that went on for days. “Where are we?!?!” I thought to myself. Then I thought that there was no way my mom and dad were going to find this place.

Sure enough, as our game started, no mom and dad. 5^th inning, game one, no mom and dad, and so it went on until the end of the first game. At this point I was worried that they had gotten lost, or something worse had happened so I called my moms cell using a teammates phone and I could not get a hold of them. “Grrrrrrrrr…..”

As we started game two I had to refocus and not worry. I was sure they were ok, but I was worried they would not find it at all and we would be forced to go back to Paderborn instead of driving with them to Amsterdam. After all, this might be our only chance to have a few nights away from Paderborn, mixed with the “Where the hell are they,” feeling.

In my second at-bat in the third inning I laid down a perfect drag bunt and while I was on first base I wanted to steal. After a couple of missed attempts and a foul ball, in between pitches I hear a loud “HEY NIK!,” all the way from the right field fence. I clearly recognized the voice and as I turned I saw my Dad on the opposite side of a chain-linked fence waving his hand with my mom right behind him.

“THANK GOD!!!!” That took a lot off my mind and I was ready to focus on baseball alone for the rest of the day. The rest of the game went on pretty smoothly and I collected four hits in my last four at-bats of the day, two of them being doubles.

Once our games were over we started to head a little further north to visit the small village my family was from and my parents told the story of why they were so late. Apparently there are two towns in Northern Germany named Dohren. My parents went to the wrong Dohren and could not find a baseball field. They finally figured out what had happened because a local told them that there was no baseball field in Dohren and maybe they might be looking for the other Dohren, some 350 Kilometers away. Once this happened they found themselves three hours away from the right place. It was a funny story, but unsettling none the less. I worried about them all day, and was excited that we were on our way. 

Yankees of Germany

After our weekend victories against Cologne we played the following Saturday evening in Dortmund. It was the first time that we had to play in the heat of the summer, and with a 6p.m. start nearing summer solstice the evening sun was low and beating down on us in the Northern sky. After we won the first game we started game two about 20 minutes later than we should have thanks to the umpires not showing up on time. Danny was ready, the other pitcher was ready, and all we did was wait in the heat.

The most interesting part of our day came in the 5th inning when the umpires left the field and told both teams that the game would be delayed for at least twenty minutes because the sun was setting in center field and the home plate umpire could no longer see. " A Sun Delay!"

Now, I have seen some crazy weather delays on a baseball field. Snow delays in the middle of May, rain delays when the weather was beautiful ten minutes before; I have even heard of fog delays in the Cape Cod league, but a SUN delay!?!?
Sure enough, after a forty five minute delay of waiting for the sun to set beyond the horizon were back in action. It was insane! I later researched that it has happened a few times in the Alaska Baseball League in towns like Fairbanks, or Anchorage due to their extreme northern hemisphere and the sun basically stays along the horizon for a longer period of time. Combine that with a field built in the direction of the setting sun and you have an impossible background to see a ball coming toward you. We are nowhere near the latitude of Anchorage or Fairbanks, but we would be at about the same latitude of central Canada (lets say Calgary, Canada) and since the sun sets late during the middle of June, it also sets low alongside the horizon. 

So after forty five minutes we were back at it. It seemed to me that the heat and the wait took a little energy out of our team because we couldn't produce anything after that. We had jumped out early with a 3-0 lead, and although Dortmund only got one run in the 3rd we had felt pretty comfortable up to the "sun delay." Danny must have felt the delays and heat, because by the 7th inning I could see him getting tired not only on the mound, but at the plate as well.
When the 8th inning came around the wheels came off and we surrendered 3 runs, none of which were from hits or a decent rally, but all walks. Danny walked a few guys and our reliever walked a few guys which gave them a one run cushion in the 9th. 

Now for the history of this league, there are a few things to consider. One is that the Untouchables have more German Championships than anyone (Consider us the Yankees of Germany) and anytime we play, you can be sure we have a target on our back. That target is not exclusive to the teams we are playing either. I learned this the hard way on this particular night, and although I have never blamed bad officiating on the outcome of a game, it was really hard to do on this particular night. In my humble opinion the umpire behind the plate had missed about 15 pitches that were literally down the middle of the plate and about 3 inched above the belt. "Ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball".....BLAH!" I told myself, "At least he is consistently bad and not giving anyone that pitch," as I myself had walked during two at-bats that night and some of the pitches were boarder line. However, in my final at-bat of the night in the ninth inning, and a runner on first I took a big swing on the first pitch because I told myself, "drive this ball into the gap and tie the game." On the next pitch Jendrick Speer got a great jump and stole second base. The pitch was a change-up about a foot outside and high and as I dug back into the box with a runner on second and 1 out I heard the umpire say "Nul und zwei" (0-2). I quickly called time and said, "You called that last pitch a strike?!?! It was a foot outside!" I quickly realized he missed the pitch because the runner was going and the catcher may not have given him a good look. He simply missed the location of the pitch. I was down 0-2 and the next pitch was a slider which broke under my hands and as I took the pitch I thought to myself, "good take, but that was too close." I didn't turn around and look at the umpire, I just looked out to the pitcher because I didn't hear a strike call. As I began to get ready for the next pitch I heard the American catcher say "Hey man, that was strike three, you're out." I looked at the umpire for the second time and said "Really? I didn't hear you say a thing and that hasn't been a strike all night!" It didn't matter, I wasn't going to change anything so I walked away as mad as I have ever been.
Our next batter was the pitcher hitting for Danny, who had been taken out of the game completely. On a 0-2 count be hit a swinging bunt to the shortstop. As Jendrick rounded third to score, the shortstop made a barehanded play, threw the ball in the dirt to first as our pitcher slide FEET FIRST into the base. He appeared to be safe as the opposing first baseman bobbled the ball, however, the German umpires struck one last time and stole the glory by yelling "ousen."(out) Our entire bench exploded off the bench except for two guys, Danny and myself. I looked down the bench as neither one of us moved, the rest of our team attacked the umpire to dispute the call, and the Dortmund Wanders celebrated like they had just won the last game of the World Series. It was as interesting a moment as I had seen on a baseball field. To top it all off our manager got thrown out of the game....... after the game was over. He was suspended for the next two games. "Only in Germany," I thought to myself.
It took a long time to get everyone to settle down from the loss, but like anything that happens in baseball we learned from it. However we could not help feel a little cheated by all the bad calls we received.
From the late start to the game, the sun delay and all the bad calls, it was an uncontrollable night that will only make us better.