A Walk Down Memory Lane

Piazza del Duomo in Milan. 

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  I found myself awake way too early one morning last week -- like 4am early. Not able to go back to sleep, I grabbed my iPad and began checking out the morning news. You know, the important stuff, my Twitter and Instagram feeds.

  One thing led to another, and 15 minutes later I was on Google Maps looking up an address in Milan.

  A NikeLab post got everything rolling. NikeLabs are boutique-like stores in nine locations around the world, Milan being one of them. Since I'd spent so much time in Milan during my two seasons playing in Italy, I was curious where the newly re-branded shop was.

Fiera in Milan.

  Once I located the shop, naturally I wanted to see where it was relative to the places I ran around most in Milan -- the Duomo, the Brera neighborhood (where the NikeLab is located), and Corso Como.

  Before I knew it, I'd scrolled to the north, to Como, trying to remember the route I'd drive to practice every day -- so I could find where our gym was on the map.

  Then I found my first apartment, and the train stations in Como centro. I'd walked to and from the train stations often, as that was a much easier (less stressful) way to get to Milan. The least amount of driving, the better!

Pre game with Nev.

  That took me to where I lived during my second season in a villa just outside of Como (though, I had a little tougher time finding that place). Then to the nearby McDonald's, where my teammate Nev had an unfortunate encounter with the McDrive (drive thru) one evening.

  It's always interesting, the things you remember most vividly. They're not necessarily what you'd think. I spent nearly two years in Italy, and none of my immediate memories are on the basketball court. I'd gone to Italy to play basketball, yet the memories that resonate with me the most, have nothing to do with basketball.

  Of course, I have great memories of basketball moments in Italy. It was the only place I was ever able to win a championship. I played with a group of women who were very passionate about the game, and pushed me to become a better player and more well-rounded person.

Celebrating our championship.

  Practices and games were never uneventful, but that was part of the job.

                                                      

On the Court Growth

  My first two seasons abroad are probably the two that shaped me most as a professional basketball player. The groundwork was laid into establishing the expectations and commitment required to be successful.

View of Lake Como from above -- Mt. Bisbino

  I still think, to this day, had I been on any other team, in any other country, I wouldn't have played 10 seasons overseas.

  I experienced just the right amount of successes and challenges to inspire me to push for more. And I was surrounded by some great teammates who were supportive and great examples to me.

Off the Court Growth
  Italy also gave me my first experiences living in Europe -- as a person, not a basketball player. I spent many an hour in the coffee bar run by two of our fans. 

  The internet connection at my apartment was challenging, and I had 11 TV channels that were all in Italian -- so I didn't have much choice: go out and live!

Leaders of Pool Comense.

  During my downtime in between practices, more often than not, you could find me at the coffee bar with Cheru and Francy.

  They spoke Italian, I tried to understand and speak back.

  I spoke English, they tried to understand and speak back.

  They explained places or things about Como that were important -- whether it'd be the local banks scheduling a strike, or good restaurants around town.

Francy & Cheru.

  I read the paper (not the days after games, however), and learned more and more Italian words.

  I tried every coffee bar fare they offered up. And grew to understand that I should limit my chocolate croissant and piadina intake, and that cappuccinos should never be ordered after 11am.

  It's where I grew to love coffee too!

  It was a fun way to learn a new culture -- I wouldn't trade those afternoons in Como for anything.

  I've written before about how special my experiences in Italy were, but I was inspired once again to share some memories after last week's Google Maps walk down memory lane!

In Milan one summer.

Teammates Kim & Mara.

Via Indipendenza in Como -- the street I lived on.

Teammate Nev and I at the coffee bar.

Como from above again. This time from the tram.

Como.

Football Season! Sans the Anxiety

Always fun to see Ralphie up close and personal.

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  For the first time in a long time, the dawn of football season isn't bringing up bittersweet, anxious feelings in my gut.

  Don't get me wrong, I love football season just as much as the next person. In fact, it's my favorite season to participate in as a fan.

  So what's to be anxious about? Dating back to my freshman year in college ('99 for those of you keeping track), football season meant it was time to hit the road.

  First as a teenager from Lake Oswego, heading to Colorado to start college. Then as a professional basketball player heading to Europe to begin every season anew. From my freshman year onward, as the football season got closer and closer to kicking off, the knot in my stomach grew larger by the day.

Here comes Ralphie...!

  Big changes and difficult goodbyes were looming on the horizon.

  On one hand, I grew accustomed to the drastic changes and the adjustment period I would encounter. So I was able to get comfortable fairly quickly. But on the other hand, it began to wear on me after a while. I guess you can say novelty eventually wore off.

Knowing vs. Doing
  Yet I always knew it was time to go. I admit, after a summer of being home, working out for 3-4 months, and doing not-much-of-anything else, it was time to go. Even so, I never liked to see the sunsets coming on earlier and earlier in the evening.

  Knowing you needed to do something, didn't make doing it any easier. I knew I needed to be overseas. It was my job after all. But I'd still always want to squeak out a few more days stateside. Put off the uncomfortable adjustment period, the long day of travel, and the tough goodbyes.

Not going back overseas will be a change.

  There were years when I was lucky enough to see a college football Saturday or two before I head out to cross the pond. And I always was entirely too excited if I got to see just one game on USA-time -- on TV. And if it was in person? I was ecstatic.

This Football Season
  As August quickly comes to a close, and football season knocks on the door, I'm finding that knot in my stomach isn't there.

  There still are bittersweet feelings, just of a different kind this time around. The fact that I don't get to hop on a plane and change lives is a big change for me. Knowing I won't be on a basketball team for the first time since I was eight: enormous change.

CU vs. Georgia in 2010.

  So there are still changes. But none of the anxiety and knot-inducing variety.

  There are things I enjoyed about being able to up and move overseas. Obviously -- if I continued to do it year after year. Things were always fresh and new. They were exciting. There was always something on the horizon to look forward to.

  But this time around, I look forward to enjoying college football Saturdays and NFL Sundays on the couch, or in the stands, in the good ol' US of A.

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The Joys of Travel

They were nice enough to organize a surprise!

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  Jumping on a plane to travel is always exciting. Hopping on a plane to head home after months away is an even better feeling. There was one big catch, however: I had to travel 27 hours (door to door), and through four different countries to reach my destination. They didn't  say it would be easy. 

  After a surprise goodbye dinner at V & Bruno's Tuesday night (they pulled a fast one on me!), I didn't get to bed til close to 2am. With my alarm set for 5, it was going to be a quick night's sleep. 

The First Leg: Brussels

  The drive to the Brussels airport from Dunkerque is always an unknown. Without traffic you can make the drive in an hour and a half. But weekday mornings are a crap shoot. Sometimes the traffic is smooth and easy. But more often than not, it's a nightmare getting through the Belgian capital. It's famous for its 'accordian-like' qualities. Stop and go once you hit the outer limits of the city, and continuing onto the Ring that circles that city you must take to reach the airport.

V & Lily.

   Wednesday morning, it took us two and a half hours. So I was behind schedule from the get-go.

  It was a sign of things to come. 

  As I checked in for my flight, I plopped my gigantic bags onto the conveyor belt to be weighed; both were over. Oops. But I guess that's what happens when you've accumulated two year's worth of stuff. 

  I was flying Aer Lingus, a first for me. But I have to give them the thumbs up -- waived one baggage fee (out of two), gave me a free coffee on board when I had no cash left (free coffee should be a no-brainer, but not for the Irish airline), and they let me move to exit row, without paying! The flight wasn't full, and they were empty, so why not?

Camped out here for hours in Dublin.

The Second Leg: Dublin 
  I had a four-hour layover in Dublin. Since I had never been to Dublin, or Ireland before, I had been contemplating using that time to get out of the airport and see something in the city.

  With a long day ahead of me, I didn't want the hassle. I didn't feel like dragging myself into the city on a cold, dreary day, so I decided to wait it out in the airport. Luckily there was free WiFi and a nice restaurant area. So I grabbed a little lunch, and the time passed fairly quickly.

  One thing that made me smile was the flight attendant saying 'cheerio!' to me as I left the plane. I didn't know they actually said that! So I have that story to relay about Dublin. 

  I always take my chances with airplane seating at the gate. I've found that the folks at the gate are more willing to work with you and the seats with extra legroom there. At the initial check in desk they always seem to be motivated by getting you to pay for any, and everything possible. Whereas at the gate, they take your situation into consideration, and if there's an available exit row or bulk head, they'll give it to you more often than not. Maybe I shouldn't be giving away all my secrets!

The spread at my au revoir dinner. Thanks V!

  I lucked out  and got an exit row, and we were off!

  For maybe the first time ever, I was asleep before my plane even took off. I remember thinking to myself, 'just make it to the meal service, then sleep.' But before I knew it, my head was bobbing around like only it can do on a plane.  

  A family with three (loud) young children seated across the aisle made sleep longer than short spurts impossible. So I was groggy and in and out for several hours. After awaking from a slumber, I'm always afraid to look at my watch because I don't want to be bummed out when a measly two hours (out of the eight) have passed. 

  The groggy feeling I always have on trans-Atlantic flights is one of being absolutely unproductive. Once the drowsiness sets in, it doesn't matter what movies I have to watch, books to read, blogs to write, I never feel like doing anything outside of resting my tired eyes.

  Of course, the flight to Chicago was long. But it was relatively uneventful. Then the real fun began.

The Sprint Leg: Chicago

  I was one of the first people off the plane. So I made a mad dash through the long corridors to get to customs as fast as I could. I rounded the corner to get in line, only to see hundreds of people already waiting in line. It was going to be a long wait.

The rest of the crew.

  The connection to my last flight home to Portland was in two hours. 45 minutes later, I was still standing in the customs line.

  I those 45 minutes, I still needed to get through customs, grab my two enormous bags, turn in my immigration card, re-check my bags, get a boarding pass for my flight to Portland (they couldn't give me one for my last connection in either Brussels or Dublin), go through security (for the third time that day), and finally get to the gate and board.

  I've never missed a connecting flight. Ever. (Knocking on wood for future travels) But it was going to be a close one!

  Usually, my layovers in Chicago, or wherever in the US, are fairly easy-going. I have time to grab some food, fill up my water bottle, get cleaned up a little bit, and maybe wander the concourse to loosen up my travel-weary legs. Not this time around. 

  By the time I made it through customs and dropped my bags, I had 30 minutes to get my boarding pass, get through security, and get to the gate and on the plane. I was cutting it a little too close for my liking. 

My fancy wine & cheese spread.

  After encountering blase United employee after blase United employee, I was starting to get a little annoyed. They were clearly undermanned (but still in no rush it seemed) because there were many people in the same boat as I was. And lines to get boarding passes and other information weren't moving very quickly. 

  Of course no one moves with the sense of urgency you're expecting them to when you're afraid of missing your flight.

  I got my boarding pass, got through security as quickly as I could, and headed out to find my gate. I know the Chicago airport fairly well, and as I glanced at my watch, I realized I was going to start running. The long underpass from Concourse B to C was my sprint zone. 20 pounds of backpack strapped to my back, made it a little awkward, so hopefully no one was judging my form.

  By the time I got to the end of the corridor and the base of the stairs/escalators, I was breathing hard. One last run up the stairs and I'd almost be there. The sprint up the stairs put me into a full on sweat. Exactly how I wanted to be for my four-hour flight to home. Didn't know I'd also be getting a workout in that day!

Always nice to come home to this. And yes, the sun's been out!

  On top of already needing to wash my face and brush my teeth, now I desperately needed a shower. I arrived at the last gate in the concourse, my gate, with 10 minutes to spare. 

  I gave my exit row strategy another go, to no avail this time around. Minus points for you, United!

The Final Leg: Portland

  I found my seat (in the last row of the plane), and settled in. My ankles were swollen, my contacts were suction-cupped to my eyeballs, I was sweaty, hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. I couldn't help but smile anyway. And I still had five more hours to go to Portland! 

  But I was on my way home.

My Last Week Checklist

The beginning of my second season on the beach.

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  After two seasons in Dunkerque, my final week on the Northern French coast is upon me. What has been an easy-going, quiet, enjoyable, yet sometimes difficult, two seasons, is coming to a close.

  No matter how the prior eight months has gone, the last week always ends the same way: jam-packed, and far too quickly.

  There's always one more thing you wish you could do, one person you weren't able to say goodbye to, or a few things you couldn't manage to jam into your luggage.

With Lily last season.

  Two consecutive seasons always makes it a little more difficult. Especially here. I had previous relationships with people in Dunkerque, so saying goodbyes will be a little tougher. You just never know when you'll cross paths again.

  And, has been the case with every other club I've played with over the course of my career in Europe, the people you encounter, and the relationships you gain are invaluable. So it's necessary to say proper goodbyes, and express thanks for the opportunity you were afforded.

  Outside of goodbyes and thank yous, here's my checklist for the week:

Thanksgiving with V & Bruno last season.

• My plane ticket home has been booked, so that hasn't been a worry for quite some time. 
• Clean my apartment. I try to leave my apartment the way I found it. So I generally like to leave a clean apartment behind, as a sign of courtesy and respect for the club.
• Clear out fridge and pantry. This is always somewhat of a fine science. You never want to leave too much food behind. It's a waste! But on the other hand, you don't want to have too little to eat in your last few days either! You have to carefully calculate how much food (and coffee) you'll need for your remaining meals. All remaining food that will not spoil, along with spices and such, will go to friends. This also includes rationing out the final few drops of my contact solution! I don't want to have to buy anew bottle -- that will cost me dearly in the weight department! -- every ounce adds up!)

With the Coulont twins.

• Pack. All of my things have to fit into two bags. And preferably at 50 pounds or less each. Baggage fees are a pet peeve of mine, and I avoid them at all costs. So after two seasons this might be especially tough, since I've accumulated more things over the course of my stay in Dunkerque. Whatever doesn't fit, or is too heavy and I don't want, I will leave to friends here.
• Wire money home, and close out bank account. You obviously want all money issues resolved before you leave. Whether it'd be with your team regarding your contract, or with the bank.  Once you leave, it's difficult to conduct

  

  Thanksgiving at my place this year.

  business with a foreign bank abroad. And upon departure, you're basically forfeiting any money you're owed, if any, by leaving. Again, you have to do a little estimating. How much cash will you need in your remaining days? Once your bank account is closed, you no longer have access to the ATMs, and you don't want bring home too many euros in cash.
• Goodbye dinners, lunches, and BBQs. This week I've already had two five-hour lunches. The first with friends, and the second with my team. It's always nice to have one final gathering together to say goodbye, and wish each other well. I have one more the night before I leave with V, Bruno and Lily.
• Take in one last beachfront view. I don't know when, if ever, I'll be fortunate enough to live in a beach front apartment. It's been a special place to live for two seasons, and I hope I haven't taken one sunset or look out the window for granted.
• Reactivate my American cell phone.
• Get to the airport on time.
• Sit and wait. You've done all there is to do, you'll be home soon enough.

Three Buffs. With Caroline and V.

  It's just been in the last few years that I've begun to realize how ridiculous this whole 'process' is: packing your life into two bags, and moving back and forth across the world. It's the part I dislike the most; the transition. But it's also a necessary evil.

  This experience with professional basketball continues to be a unique one for me. I'm glad to be able to have both 'lives'; my life at home in the US, and my life overseas as a pro. So, with yet another season in the books, it's about time to head home!

Too many beautiful sunsets to count.

  Of course I'm anxious to get home and see family and friends, but you also know you'll be leaving valuable relationships behind. So while I'm looking ahead, I can't help but think about what's being left. You just hope you'll meet again!

  À bientôt --

A few more memorable moments from the last two seasons, but not all...

V & Lily -- last season -- Springtime Brunch.

Dunkerque Beer & Wine Festival with Bruno.

Two seasons with Aurelie.

Team visiting a local school.

Sunrise from my window.

The 2012-2013 squad.

Road trip to Nice!

Team awaiting the bus to head to the game.

Teammates Aurelie & Judit.

Lily!

My French 'family' -- Bruno, Lily, & V.

Life wasn't always a beach. Sometimes there was snow.

Practice with some youngsters.

Late evening on the beach.

Brittney Griner to the NBA: An Unnecessary Discussion

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**Originally appeared on SLAM Online April 10th, 2013**
  Several months ago we had the lower rims debate. Now we have Brittney Griner to the NBA making headlines. I guess I should be happy that women's basketball is giving people something to talk about. But outlandish stories aren't the discussions we should be having about women's hoops.

  Some say, any talk is progress. I'm not willing to go there just yet.

  Dallas Mavericks owner, Mark Cuban, stated last week that he'd give the 6'8" Baylor star a shot at making his team. He said, 'If she is the best on the board, I will take her.'

  Griner tweeted back, 'I would hold my own! Lets do it.' I don't blame her for responding, she believes in herself. But Cuban really doesn't deserve a response.

  Let's take his comments for what they really are: a PR stunt. He wants attention, and he wants the hoopla to follow Griner to the NBA summer league, where she would potentially first play.

  All that's happened since Cuban's attention-seeking comments, is the disparaging of Griner and her talents. And with that, criticism of women's basketball in general.

  I don't mean to doubt Griner's abilities, but this isn't the rec. The NBA is the highest level of basketball in the world. The best. The biggest, strongest, quickest, most versatile athletes in the world.

  I know how tough it is just playing against guys at the rec. 

  In the men's game, Griner's talents don't transfer over. What makes her special in the women's game would not be a factor against men. Size, athleticism, strength, speed, length, quickness.

  Against women, she's a 6'8" dominant center. In the majority of her games while at Baylor, she had an enormous size advantage. And then on top of that, she has phenomenal athleticism unseen in a 6'8" woman. Put those two things together, and you have a defensive stopper who controls the paint, and a presence in the post offensively who demands a double (triple?) team every time she touches the ball.

  Against men, she's a small forward (maybe a power forward, but that'd be a stretch). I've seen Brittney Griner play, nothing about her game says small forward.

  That's the obvious argument.

  But now, instead of praising and celebrating a talent the women's game has never seen, this has turned into a diss -- for lack of a better term. It's me, and everyone else who is having this conversation, saying what Griner is not. Putting her down, and saying why she wouldn't succeed.

  Instead, we should appreciate and celebrate her talents for what they are.

  What I should be saying is this: stop comparing. Respect the women's game for what it is. It's a separate sport. Simple as that. 

  We don't need to say that women should/could compete with men. It's not cutting-edge. It's not an enlightened way to think. It's unnecessary.

  In what other sport do they talk about women competing against men? Did anyone ever talk about Mia Hamm competing for the US Olympic Men's soccer team?

  Brittney Griner is an enormously talented basketball player. And she is a dominant physical presence. She is a game changer. Let her be just that.

  Is it a compliment to ask if can she play in the NBA? Yes, of course! But don't take the conversation any further than that. Because once we do, that's when the the compliments stop.