Sentimentality

Sentimentality is not an uncommon feeling for me. I embrace it, as a matter of fact. I stalk it. I sit on its front steps and wait for it to come home so I can beg for more. (Creepiest metaphor I've ever come up with. Sorry.)

The point is, I often do things just because they seem romantic to me. Just because, I suppose, I've read about them in a book somewhere down the line.

So it shouldn't surprise you that on December 11th, 2011, following my last Ultimate training in Austria, I had an emotional walk home. It was a long walk, too; down a lane lined with trees and bordered by fields. There were mountains in the distance. I trudged along, past families out for their Sunday strolls, couples heading for the Christmas Market at Hellbrunn, and equestrians guiding their horses gingerly around the walkers. I was thinking, as I walked, about my frisbee playing, and how it was the very last thing I expected to be doing in Europe, and how it was also the best. I began to make up a poem in my head. Sometimes when I do this I don't write the poem down; I tell myself I'll copy it out later, and then I never do. On December 11th, however, I veered off the path, found a curb to perch on, leaned my back into the late Fall sunshine, and wrote my poem on a scrap of paper I found in my backpack.

Here it is, not fancy or fine, but small, and dripping with the sentimentality I can't help but adore:

I love the feeling of throwing a frisbee,
of knowing as soon as your wrist releases
and the disc leaves the curl of your hand
that no matter which direction it goes,
it will fly straight
and without a wobble.

December 11th, 2011
Hellbrunn, Salzburg, Austria

December 8th, 2011

I hear the bells of Salzburg
Ringing for the Immaculate Conception.
Stores are closed today
in honor of the event.
Even the athletic field lights won't turn on tonight,
So instead, we toss the frisbee
back and forth
under the sunshine in the park
As couples stroll along, basking in December
The promise of a Savior
Hands wrapped around the spicy smell of Glühwein.

Ultimate

Have I ever told you about Ultimate Frisbee?
I probably should now, because the sport makes me so, so happy. In every way.

I was going to sign up for badminton, or volleyball, or basketball, but by the time I got to the registration office, everything was full. Every sports class I had ever dreamed of taking was full, leaving me to take the one class I had never dreamed of taking.

Ultimate, of course.

And I love it. I loved it from the first day, when I could hardly throw a frisbee, to the second day, when we all discovered that I can catch. Not to brag, but I can catch, my friends. I attribute this talent to many years of tossing footballs and softballs (no frisbees) around the front yard with my Dad. Our coach proclaimed me the wide receiver, and I went home happy.

The best part of Ultimate, however, is not the sport itself. It's the people. I'm one of four Americans on the team (the other three are some AIFS buddies of mine), and the rest are Austrians. Frisbee came during a time when I was really feeling down about being in Salzburg. I felt like I didn't have any friends, my roommate treated me like the devil's spawn (well, not everything has changed), and I was desperately, daily, gut-wrenchingly homesick. And then I'd go to Ultimate, and I would be on a team. And everyone would be helping everyone and making jokes and speaking a confused mix of German and English and I felt like I fit in without a hitch.

I was worried initially that since so many people on the team are really good players, they would grow impatient with my sorry incompetence and shun me forever. They did not do this. Everyone has been helpful and friendly. They even refrain from laughing when I fall on my butt, legs up in the air (which, let's be honest, happens at least two times every practice).

And sure, I'm still not the best player out there. Like I said, my catching is fairly good, but my throwing definitely needs some work. I'm still getting used to using my wrist instead of my entire arm, and I currently can only throw backhand. But I have glorious amounts of fun on the field.

Tonight it was my friend Maggie's (an AIFS kid) birthday. We had talked about it casually at the last practice, and I guess everyone remembered, because two different team members showed up with baked goods to share. Let me tell you that eating a piece of raspberry cream sponge cake and a piece of brownie, and then running two large laps around the field is not a fantastic idea. But it sure is delicious.

Anyway, we all sang to Maggie, and she blew out a candle, and then we did our drills and scrimmaged for an hour. And then we ate more cake.

And now I'm back in Internationales Kolleg (my dorm), sitting with Mac on my lap. I'm still in my Ultimate clothes. I should probably take a shower, but I don't really want to. I don't really want to wash this evening off yet.