look at my pupils

Holy smokes, friends, I am several days late with my Amsterdam stories and photos (see below). Yet here I stand. Or sit, as the case may be.

We flew Air Berlin into Amsterdam on Friday, which went along uneventfully. The airport in Amsterdam was pretty much a huge, nice shopping mall that happens to be an airport as well.

One of my immediate observations was that English was much more prevalent there than in Berlin. I could actually read signs! And, on occasion, people would walk by speaking English and I’d be shocked to actually be able to understand what passersby were saying.

Following dinner at the hotel, a bunch of the staff members were going to check out the city. Once we got off the train, most of the group immediately decided that the red-light district was where we needed to go.

Now, this wasn’t exactly where I wanted to go, but decided that maybe I could see it for the sociological value of the experience. What I’d previously heard about Amsterdam was pretty much on target.

Even walking down main streets, one passes whorehouse (for lack of a better term) after whorehouse (ditto). Essentially, the women stand behind glass doors in their underwear waiting for/beckoning “customers.” If I can go Holden Caulfield for a moment, it was depressing as hell. I’m just guessing, but a large percentage of them probably aren’t there by their own choice. And even if they are, what does that say?

Anyways, I won’t dwell on that here. I already racked my brain trying to make sense of it last weekend. All the “coffee shops” were amusing. They weren’t exactly Common Ground, if you know what I mean. I didn’t go in one, having been told they’re not the safest places to hang out. I enjoyed the names though—High Times, Grasshopper, etc. Nothing but ridiculously lame puns, for which I am a sucker.

So I made it through an evening in Amsterdam relatively unscathed, even though I was troubled most of the whole next day trying to process all that I had seen.

But Saturday was our first game, so that was exciting. We played in the 55,000-seat Amsterdam ArenA, which is the home of the Ajax soccer team. I didn’t know dish soap played soccer, but whatever.

Our game had the dubious distinction of setting the record for the coldest game in NFL Europe history, with the game-time temperature checking in at 32F/0C.

During the game, I was on the sidelines communicating injury updates to NFL Network, which was broadcasting the game. It was pretty easy, and being on the sidelines was exciting. In spite of the fact that attendance was around 16,000, it was probably the loudest stadium I’ve ever heard. They’re allowed to mic the audience and magnify the crowd noise, a big no-no in the NFL, so that obviously contributed to it.

We took a big lead, let Amsterdam back in the game, but held on in the end for a 33-29 win. Wins always make my job much easier, so I was pleased. Plus I want a huge World Bowl championship ring, and we have to be in the top two teams (out of six) at the end of the regular season to get in the game.

On Sunday, our flight didn’t leave until 6:30 p.m., but we had to be out of our hotel by noon. So they sent us all on a canal boat tour of the city. Apparently, Amsterdam has more canals than Venice, which was news to me.

The tour was good, but I faced a dilemma. I could sit in the heated boat and hear the occasional comments of the tour guide/waiter or stand on the back deck and take pictures. I chose to stand outside and take pictures. So I have some great pictures—I just don’t know what most of them are of. Oh well. We have to make that sort of decisions in this life.

One site they did point out to we picture-takers was the Anne Frank house. That was kind of interesting to see.

They also have a huge bicycle parking garage in the city. I couldn’t believe the number of bikes. They were parked up and down every street. The odd part was that, in three days in and around Amsterdam, I think I saw one bike that looked less than 30 years old. Every bike looked like an old Schwinn cruiser.

We finally got back to our hotel in Berlin about 9:30 Sunday night, and I was wiped out. Since then, I’ve pretty much worked non-stop. So I’m still wiped out. Wednesday and Thursday are my slow days—off days don’t exist—so I’m looking forward to that. I may catch a nap or go downtown and see an American movie in English.

By the way, I was featured on a Browns Web Radio spot on www.clevelandbrowns.com, so you can visit the site and find the clip with my name on it. I just chat with them about what I’m doing over here and such. So if you’re really longing to hear my voice (and I know you are), here’s your chance.

“Oh sleep! It is a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole.”
--Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Gute nacht