My First Smidgen of Prague Success

...was, in a word, terrifying. But it was multilevelled. I went to the rink down in southeast Prague. Though I didn't find the entrance to the rink, I found Restaurace Nad Ledem, which translates to "Restaurant Above the Ice." True to its billing, it was a restaurant with a big picture window that overlooked the rink. When I came in, they were running the Zamboni, so I ordered a Turkish coffee to pass the time. I ordered in (admittedly Russian-accented) Czech, and watched. The first group to come on was the youth elite team. Now, when I say youth, I mean ages 12-16. Though their skating was sometimes questionable...I was still pretty worried by the end of the session. Their puck skills are fantastic. "If these are just kids, how the hell am I going to keep up?" was the first question to spring to mind. But it had just begun. Next up was a summer league game--easily the most exciting game I've seen in a while. It was fast, clean, and full of finesse. These guys were 18-21, and I honestly wonder how many of them I'll see in the NHL someday. The game was between Slavia Praha (the home team) and the visiting Ceske Budejovice. Slavia Praha jumped out to an early 1-0 lead, but the visiting team scored four unanswered goals to make it 4-1 at the end of the second period. In the third, however, Slavia put three home and ended the game at 4-4. It was a fantastic comeback and a great game. My legs can keep up with most of them; my hands can't. These guys can pass, shoot, and stickhandle better than ANYTHING I ever saw in the states...yeah, Adam and Julien...if you're reading this, these guys would basically end you, except in one thing. Hitting. That's going to be my biggest asset, other than speed. The game was physical, but there weren't the brutal open-ice hits that I saw in the states. It's plenty legal here, but, if the youth practice was any indicator, they just don't teach it in Europe. The result is a much cleaner, faster game that's less about f=m*a and more about sharp puckhandling and passing. Again, it was amazing, though disheartening. If I learned a single thing, it's that I can't (obviously) keep up in the Czech Elite League...(you have no idea how relieved I was to hear that this team was composed of the best players in Prague). However, it provokes a question: where do the little guys play? You know, the ones who play for love of the game and all that frilly whatsit. Tomorrow I'm going inline rink scouting, and if it looks less formal, then I'll bite the bullet and go buy some inline hockey skates, which sucks, since I've already had one huge expenditure this week already.

Said expenditure prompts some good news, however. I replaced my camera, and I'll devote a day of this week to retracing my steps in Prague and making up for lost pictures. I suppose it's good that the theft occurred in my first city, in a way. The expenditure was also not as large as expected; it only came out to US $20 more than the one I got at Wal-Mart in the states. I got the same one not only because it was reliable, but I also suspected that acquainting myself with an electronics instruction manual written in Czech would be an exercise in frustration and possibly futility.

For my non sequitur of the day, I got really irritated when I was introducing myself to a couple of German girls at the hostel. I introduced myself in English and German, and they seemed more or less pleased. But when the conversation surpassed my German abilities (about two sentences later), the girl just made a snooty face and said "your American English is so bad. I cannot understand anything you say." It took every ounce of self control in my body to bite my tongue instead of saying "did it ever occur to you that YOUR English is the problematic part of this equation." I was a good boy, though, so I smiled and said guten nacht with a shit-eating grin on my face. So much for intercultural tolerance, sometimes. Just like the Frenchman the other day who came over and introduced himself. I introduced myself in French, and he asked me where I was from. When I told him "America," he grimaced and said "nobody's perfect, I guess." He hasn't spoken a word to me since. To put a positive spin on it, however, 85% of the Europeans I've encountered at least give me the benefit of the doubt; the above are just exceptions. I suspect that being able to grin and bear it when encountering anti-American sentiment will serve me well in my career prospects. It's a skill I'm developing.

Pictures are forthcoming.