Can You Hear Me Now?

Cell phones…oh how I love to hate thee. What was once a luxury is now an everyday necessity. One can barely leave the house without packing their beloved mobile device - a device that connects them to anyone and everyone 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. But it doesn’t come without obligation. Missed calls, unanswered text messages and new voicemails wait patiently for response. If slow to reply, assumptions can be drawn or accusations made. Freedom? There’s no such thing when a cell phone attached to your hip.

As you’ve probably already realized, I’m no fan of cell phones. I find them restricting and hate the fact that I’m accountable to answer or return a call immediately after its made. I’ll get back to you when I feel like it - whether it’s 2 minutes or 2 hours from now (emergencies being the exception.) I get aggravated with people who are constantly on their phones or endlessly writing text messages - especially while in my presence. Am I not interesting enough to hold your attention? I’m not trying to sound like a hater or suggesting that focus should be on me at all times, but I think there is a time and a place for cell phones and it’s definitely not during a dinner date or serious conversation.

Maybe I’m just easily aggravated by customized ring tones, fancy add-ons or constant upgrades, but what I detest more than anything are text messages. I find them extremely impersonal and I hate trying to decipher the tone or meaning of each message. I think text messages are an excuse not to call someone and it drives me crazy! Even worse is the rampant cell phone use among younger generations. Now a days you see 8th graders (and younger!) toting cell phones wherever they go. It’s insane! Why on Earth does an 8th grader need a cell phone? I mean really, they’re either at home, at school or out with friends. Who else needs to call them? I didn’t get a cell phone until my freshman year in college and even then it was like pulling teeth to convince my parents I needed one. They eventually caved, but only after realizing I didn’t have a landline in my dorm and a cell phone was only way to keep tabs on me. Even then I didn’t use it much and still had a great social life.

That being said, I can’t hate on the cell phone that much. I suppose I’m somewhat of a hypocrite. Cell phones are extremely convenient and have definitely been to my benefit in many situations. They enable people to get a hold of each other, no matter the time or place. This is especially important if an emergency occurs. Cell phones are the 21st century’s safety blanket, as anyone is just a phone call away. I think my problem is that I hate the loss of independence that occurs when carrying one. The thought of knowing you can be called up at any minute and your schedule can change in an instant is too invasive and really bothers me. I wish I could walk around cell phone free and not have a care in the world - but I can’t.

However, living abroad has given me some sense of freedom from my mobile. Though I still I take it everywhere I go, I don’t worry much about missing calls or listening to voicemail. The friends I’ve made over here I see almost everyday, thus phone calls aren’t really necessary. Sure I use it time to time, but it’s not a crutch like it is when I’m at home. I like it better this way. Though my cell phone gets somewhat neglected while I’m in Europe, my friend Skype gets quite the workout. For those of you who don’t know what Skype is – you’re missing out on the best invention for those far from friends and family. Skype is a program that allows you to talk to loved ones for free. All you need is a computer and webcam with a microphone and you’re set. It’s super convenient and makes home seem that much closer. Whenever I’m at my apartment or on the internet, my Skype is on. It’s like a cell phone in the sense that when I’m online anyone else who is online can call me. It’s a connection to home and I’m not sure what I would do without it.

In a different line of thought, yesterday was the start of Carnival in Portugal. It’s basically a weeklong holiday celebration with parades, fireworks, junk food and costumes. It’s really neat and is something I never knew about until this year. Last night Casey and I attended the Madeira Symphony (which was beautiful) downtown with some teammates. After it was over, we wandered around the city center to people watch. Apparently we didn’t get the memo, as we soon found out it was transvestite night. Men were dressed as women and women dressed as men. It was hilarious, especially when the men who were dressed as women tried to hit on us. Talk about a bizarre situation! Hmm…he looks cute, but that red lipstick and mascara is really throwing me off…This evening there was a fireworks show and parade that started around 9:30pm. It was great and real fun to see so many happy people singing, dancing and enjoying each others company. I think the coolest part was that there was barely any police presence and everyone seemed to be on good behavior. Unfortunately we’ll miss the next 3 days of festivities, as right now, basketball is my #1.

Basketball Update: Tomorrow we play Barcelos at Barcelos. We beat them earlier this season by double digits, but as the regular season starts to wind down, every game is a big game. I’ll be staying the next 2 nights in Porto because I’ll be participating in All-Star festivities. Last week I found out I was selected as the starting center for the South team in the Portuguese All-Star game. It’s an honor to be selected and I am excited for 2 days of fun. It will be nice to chat with other Americans and hang out with male players from other teams. Jason Smith, CAB’s PG and my good friend was also selected as a starter. It will be fun to cheer each other on and represent the club. Lastly, my achilles are starting to feel better. They don’t really bother me when I play anymore. The problem is that the back of my basketball shoe pushes right on the tender spots. This is what is causing my discomfort and since I can’t play without my basketball shoes, I’ll just have to wait for the pain to subside, Looks like it’s time for a new pair of kicks! (Hint, hint J…☺)

-BW

Size Matters

I’m tall. It’s a fact. And I have absolutely no reservations about my height. I love being 6’1” (1.86cm) and wouldn’t want it any other way. Growing up I never really had an issue with my size and quickly learned to accept that I was taller than everyone else – even the boys. By the time I reached high school some of my male counter parts had finally caught up and it was nice change having to look up during conversations.

However, my life viewing the top of everyone’s heads ended when I entered the competitive world of NCAA and international basketball. I no longer was the tallest player on the court - but rather an undersized forward matching up with girls 6’3” and above night in and night out. Not only did these players tower over me in stature, but most outweighed me by a minimum of 30 pounds. Every minute I played in the post was a battle both mentally and physically. Being tall had its advantages, but I was no longer the one reaping the benefits.

Realizing from then on I was likely going to be one of smaller players at my position, I decided to improve parts of my game that bigger girls would have a tough time guarding. I worked hard on my cardio so I could tire out the larger players I was matched up with and made sure to run the break every time so I was the first down court. I increased my shooting range so when facing the basket, my opponent would have to move away from the key and more importantly, out of her comfort zone. I worked hard on my first step so I could blow by a player that wasn’t quick on her feet. I lifted weights hard to get stronger so I COULD battle inside, even if I was giving up 2 or 3 inches. And finally, I made sure that I was the hardest working player on the court when I was in the game. I dove for loose balls, crashed the boards every time a shot went up and made plays that didn’t appear on the stat sheet. For what I lacked in height, I made up with in effort.

That being said, during my first 2 years of professional basketball in Europe, I’ve found myself playing more 5 (center) than 4 (forward). In college I was a 4 – period. That was my position and I was good at it. However, after landing in Finland my coach wanted me to play the 5 rather than the 4. Always up for a challenge, I did just that. It was different, as I found myself playing almost 90% of the game with my back to the basket. The trend continued in Sweden where I was once again expected to play the 5. Gaining more and more confidence at this new position, I started to get comfortable and my stats reflected that. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised to find myself anchoring the middle again in Portugal. After Danielle (my American teammate who was sent home last month because of a stress fracture in her leg) left, I was our new center. After all my time spent down low, I now can say with confidence that I am comfortable with my back to the basket and have become a more versatile player because of it.

Like I said earlier, I love being tall. Aside from the fact that I have a heck of a time finding pants long enough – I think my height has only brought positives to my life. Off the basketball court I always find it interesting to see how people react to my size. If I had 10 cents for every time someone said to me “you’re tall” to me I’d be a millionaire. I’m tall? No way! I had no idea! Thanks for pointing that out – I should make a note of that! As sarcastic as I am, I’ve never hat the guts to respond “and you’re short.” One of these days… It amazes me how often I come across strangers who without introducing themselves or saying hello, just stare or say “how tall are you?” or “do you play basketball/volleyball?” Even better is when someone pretends to casually walk near me to measure if the top of their head is near my shoulders. Seriously? I don’t walk around asking short people if they are gymnasts or jockeys, so how is me being tall any different? I may sound like I’m being sensitive about my height - I’m really not, but some of the reactions I get are incredible.

I’m probably making it sound much worse than it is. It’s just annoying when encountering it on a daily basis. That being said, when home in Canada or the U.S. I’m still tall, but not so tall that I stand out like a sore thumb. I’m just a little larger than your average Canadian or American. It’s not impossible to find men taller than me and I definitely come across quite a few women who are around my size. It’s when you get to Europe that you start to feel like you’re on display. Scandinavian people in general are relatively tall. Not as tall as most North Americans, but definitely a bit above average. I got the odd look and typical questions here and there. But it wasn’t an issue. Yet when I got to Portugal, I realized I was a giant. I’m pretty sure that I’m taller than everyone in this country. Ok, I’m exaggerating a bit, but other than the American male basketball players and the odd Portuguese ones, I have yet to encounter a man over 6’1”. And I’m also pretty sure I’m the tallest female in Portugal - aside from some of the American players in the league. Here I’m huge and people stare unabashedly whenever I’m out of the house. At first I thought I had a growth on my face or was wearing offending colors, but quickly realized that I was unlike anything they had seen before – I was a 6’1” woman. Both men and women stare at me without embarrassment. When I stare back, they don’t look away. There is no shame in their curiosity and after a while it starts to get to me. I like attention – who doesn’t? But being constantly scrutinized each time I step out is weird. Portuguese people that don’t speak English tend to make hand motions and yell out “grande menina” (big girl) or “muito alta” (very tall) while others just point and talk rapidly to their friends. Umm…I can see and hear you. Hello!

I know it’s not just my height that makes me ‘fascinating’ here in Portugal. It’s probably the combination being tall and having light hair and light eyes. I’m different. The girls on my team constantly refer to me as being blonde – which I’m not. I’m definitely a brunette. However, the majority of Portuguese people have very dark hair and brown eyes. So someone like me, who has light brown hair and green eyes and Casey, with light brown hair and blue eyes, are somewhat of anomalies. I can’t tell you how many Portuguese men have walked up to me on the street just to compliment my eyes. It can be quite flattering.

Ahh…Portuguese men. Since we’re on the topic it’s probably worthwhile mentioning how different they are from Canadians/Americans. Portuguese men, actually European men for that matter do not lack confidence. Unlike at home, they are not the least bit intimated of a tall woman and often say exactly what is on their mind. There is no censor, often leading to uncomfortable and awkward situations. I don’t get offended anymore, but can’t believe the cahones some of these guys have! Whenever I’m walking around downtown I always seem to be hissed at. Apparently this is the Portuguese version of whistling. It’s very strange to have someone hiss at you. How do you not react? The best way is not to, because it’s exactly what they want. If you look in the direction of the sound, you’re often treated to blown kisses, howling or shouts in rapid Portuguese. Keeping your eyes in the direction of the hiss for more the 2 seconds is a huge mistake, as the men are encouraged and will continue to ogle you until you’re out of sight. I’ve even had some follow me, which can be very unnerving. It’s an uncomfortable position to be in and I make sure to be surrounded by people or duck into a café whenever this occurs. Now that Casey is here, we face the onslaught together and almost always end up laughing at the ridiculous remarks and gestures being made. Who doesn’t love a man yelling at you while slowly looking you up and down?

Basketball Update: Last weekend we won a cup game, defeating 2nd division team Lousada by 20. It’s weird how when sometimes playing a much weaker opponent you tend to play down to their level. This happened most of the first half, but we eventually corrected stupid mistakes and pulled away. Being careful with my sore achilles, Coach subbed me into the game with 10 minutes to play in the 1st half. After getting warm and slowly making plays on the court, I got comfortable. In 21 minutes of action I finished with 16 pts and 6rbs. I’ve been slowly working my way back into practice this past week and have found my feet are starting to feel a little bit better. I’m still being smart about how hard I go in certain drills, but I think they may improving. I’m still not without pain, but it’s not as bad as it was before. Last night I had my first practice where after 2 hours on the court I was able to walk without a limp. Hoo-ray for small victories! This weekend we play 2 games back to back. Saturday we play Povoa in Porto (Northern Portugal), while Sunday we play Esgueira in Lisbon (Southern Portugal). Needless to say, it will be a long road trip.

Wednesday night our men had a huge win over one of the most historic basketball clubs in Portugal – FC Porto. The 3-point victory was back and forth with the crowd going crazy in the last 2 minutes. It was an exciting game to watch. Afterwards, Casey, Jason and I went over to Lance’s apartment. There we met up with the 3 Americans from Porto. It was fun to chat about home and share our European basketball experiences. We watched the UNC-Duke basketball game on TV (yeah J!) while getting to know each other better. It reminded me of being back in college.

In other news, last night the Huskies played the Oregon State Beavers at Gil Coliseum. As a proud Husky, I made a bet with Casey on the game (Casey is a OSU alum.) The loser had to wear the winner’s school colors all day and buy coffee. With the year the Dawgs are having, I should of bet against them. Sure enough, the Beavers came out on top. Today I found myself wearing orange and black, with Casey ragging on me every 5 seconds. A bet is a bet and I would have done the same to her had my team pulled out the ‘W’. Burnt by the Beavs!

-BW

Sidenote: For those of you who don't know, I'm now blogging for the Vancouver Province Newspaper. The link to it can be found under my links section on the right hand side of this page or you can just click here to view it. Enjoy!

Gut Check

Emotions are a funny thing. Some people wear them on their sleeve, while others keep them bottled up and hidden from view. Everyone has their own way of displaying emotion and personally, I think I fit somewhere in the middle of these two extremes. I definitely don’t put my emotions on for display, but I enjoy life and that tends to be reflected through my body language and outgoing personality. I’m not afraid to admit that I tear up at sappy movies, sentimental TV moments or even at well written magazine articles - but showing frustration on the court is something I work hard to keep hidden. There are certain things I never want the opposition to see and this emotion is definitely one of them.

Any competitive athlete knows how important emotions are both on and off the court. How you display emotion during competition not only affects performance and mindset, but also affects the way you interact with teammates, opponents and fans. It’s a huge part of the game many people take for granted and more often than not has a direct effect on the outcome.

As I’ve grown older and matured as both a player and person, I’ve realized how much of an effect emotions have had on my game. I’m a completely different player now than I was in high school and college. As a professional, I like to think that I’ve learned from past mistakes and have changed the way I react on the court in certain situations. This isn’t to say I never slip up – of course I’ve thrown a dirty look at a ref or told a cheap player give it a rest, but I’m nowhere near the hot head I was in high school. In college I quickly learned to tame these emotions - or else I'd be riding the pine. It took some effort, but when you’re playing in the über-physical Pac-10 conference facing menacing 6’3”+ post players every night, constant taunts from opposing fans and officials that don’t blow their whistle unless someone draws blood - you better learn to keep yourself in check or success won’t come easily.

Conversely, each time I return to Europe for another season I find myself mentally preparing for the emotion, or rather lack of emotion I will face that year. This isn’t to say I don’t play with passion over here, but it’s a different kind of passion. The college atmosphere is so completely different than the one in Europe and the change can be quite startling. Abroad, you have to really dig deep to pump yourself up and get excited about little victories on the court. You can’t depend on others like you did in college to get you through the tough times. It’s a total adjustment and making it can be quite lonely.

This is not to knock European basketball, but there’s something about playing in front of 3,500+ purple clad fans supporting your every move on the court. Cheerleaders are on the sidelines pumping up the crowd, the band is playing their heart out to “Hey Baby” and “Bow Down to Washington” and you can actually hear your friends and family (my mother!) screaming at the top of their lungs. This type of environment is hard to top. (Well, maybe it's equal to playing in front of a rival school’s hostile fans whose only desire is to see you fail. There’s nothing like silencing the opposing crowd with a great play or sunk free throw. Talk about adrenaline!) In college I remember fist pumping after and 1’s, roaring with pride after a teammate took a charge and running down the bench for high fives after swished 3 pointers. Our crowd would be on their feet, often making so much noise you could barely hear the referee’s whistle! These types of moments brought out my raw emotion and passion – something I never want to conceal. Fans in the stands saw us play with reckless abandon – leaving everything we had on the court. There’s nothing like being a part of a hard fought basketball game; the emotions you experience are indescribable and are some of the best feelings in the world.

After experiencing the highest of highs (and the many lows) of college basketball, I’ve noticed that Europe isn’t for everyone. Some players can’t do it. If you don’t have the inner drive to get yourself going – good luck succeeding over here. You’re literally on an island. And in some cases, you’re the only North American on your team – making it even tougher because there is no one to relate to. You have to find what gets you going, because there is no band, cheerleaders or family members in the crowd to lift you up. It’s just you and the hardwood. Of course you have teammates who are supportive to an extent, but they will never be able to duplicate the camaraderie of college basketball. University gives you 4 years with the same girls, same system, same coaching staff and same environment. You develop passion and loyalty for the program. I bleed purple and gold and nothing will ever change that. In Europe I’ve played for 3 teams in 2 years – so it’s very hard to develop that same sense of loyalty each time you put on a new jersey.

That being said, for the first time in my 2 years overseas I felt some of that emotion I experienced in college come out on Sunday. In my previous post I wrote about how we were facing the 2 strongest teams on Saturday and Sunday. These were 2 HUGE games, as they would determine first place. Playing on 2 very sore achilles and with a new teammate who had arrived Thursday before the game, it was going to be a tough, tough weekend. On Saturday vs. Vagos (a team we lost to earlier in the season) we played a solid game and pulled off an 8-point win. It was a big victory for us and a great way to start the weekend. Having not practiced the previous week and a half because of my injury, I sucked it up for the game and took the court. It was hard to get comfortable, as each step I took felt like fire was shooting through my ankles. However, I was needed on the court and gave everything I had (10pts 7rbs). My shooting was off, but I thought I did pretty good considering I was playing at about 70% of what I’m capable of. Our new American (Casey Nash) did great for having learned all our plays and defensive systems just 2 nights before. She’s really going to help us out. Casey is one of those players that has intangibles. She has a knack for the ball – it seems to find her on the court and she knows what to do with it. I’m excited to be her teammate for the rest of the season. Pac-10 baby!

After icing my achilles constantly that evening, Case and I went over the game plan to prepare for Olivais the next day. Olivais is the most talented team in the league, with WNBA draft pick Ambrosia Anderson leading the charge. Somewhat revitalized, I gingerly took the court for the second time in 24 hours. Feeling the effects from the previous game, I hoped I would be able to assist enough for a win. A horrible 1st half saw us down by 15 at the break and me as cold as ice. I’m pretty sure I was 0-for-Februrary in the opening stanza! After some positive self talk in the locker room at half and Casey and I pumping each other up, I took the court ready for battle. Our miniscule (but dedicated) crowd started to get loud, singing songs, banging drums and cheering made baskets. All of a sudden we went on a 15-2 run and cut the lead to a single possession. Pressing full court, we forced multiple turnovers and started to fight our way back into the game. The gym was loud, the team was pumped and I finally found my touch. Down 2 with 3 minutes to play I hit a 3 from the top of the key to take our first lead of the game. Running back on ‘D’ I let out a “yeaaaaaaaah, let’s go!” and started to feel that emotion from college that I had missed so much. We were going to win this game! Trading baskets the next few possessions, I collected an offensive board and put up a shot – getting fouled in the process. The layup rolled in and once again I roared with happiness and fist pumped the air. After knocking down the following free throw we were once again up by 1. Two defensive stops and a steal by Casey had us holding the final possession. A quick foul put Case on the line with 20 seconds left. The cool lefty calmly knocked down 2 free throws to push our lead at 3. Two missed shots by Olivais players had the buzzer sounding and my teammates and I embracing. Yes! A hard fought victory filled me with the emotion I had been missing since college.

Currently we’re sitting on top of the league and can hold the position outright by winning our 5 remaining games. It’s definitely do-able. This Sunday we face a 2nd division team in a cup game (doesn’t count for league), so hopefully I’ll once again be able to rest my aching feet. I’m getting worried, as my achilles problem isn't any better. I’m still in quite a bit of pain when I run and jump. I need the team to be patient, but that doesn’t seem to be in their vocabulary. I know we need to win games and I’m being paid to play, but I have to look out for myself as this could turn in to a chronic situation. Fingers crossed for magic healing powers…

-BW