Viva Los Dodgers: Chronicles of a Dodgers Fan Living in Spain

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As my plane lifted off, destined for Barcelona, I looked down at the lights of Los Angeles and was overcome with emotion. But my grief was not for my family or dear friends. Sorry guys… I love you, but you’ll be there when I get back.

My mournings were of a bluer variety.

My eyes scanned the maze of urban lights down below, in search of hallowed ground. That diamond jewel that lies in the hills of Chavez Ravine, blue heaven on earth, Dodger Stadium. As the plane ascended into the starry night, a whiff of grilled Dodger Dogs rose 10,000 feet and bid me farewell.

Alas, I had made my decision. I was leaving to study in Spain in the middle of a pennant race, even worse, in the last weeks of Vin Scully’s broadcasting career. The team I loved so dearly, would never be the same. For who are the Dodgers without their beloved maestro? What is baseball in Los Angeles without the Voice of Summer?

Unfortunately, the Dodger faithful will have to answer those questions next season. Like Vinny said, “Don’t be sad because it’s over, smile because it happened.”

Right?

I guess.

So here I am, at 3 am in Barcelona, smiling as my Boys in Blue fight against the Nationals in the playoffs. I take siestas at 10 pm and set alarms to wake at 3 to watch the games, shouting into pillows and high-fiving myself when we win.

This nine hour time difference might be the death of me, but I’ll be damned if I miss a game.

This is our year,

I want to hear you from here.

Wave those blue towels and cheer with all of your might,

let’s win it for Vinny and send him off right!

GO BLUE!!

#WinForVin

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Drowning with a Smile

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September 30th marked my one year “Quit-Your-Day-Job” anniversary.

A necessary deviation from a well-traveled path. An elevated perspective offered a snapshot of my life further up that road, and I didn’t like what I saw, so I jumped the fuck off the trail.

The decision has afforded me a plethora of life’s most precious commodity.

Time.

I have had time to explore.

Time to explore foreign lands and cultures, and perhaps more importantly, the expanses of my own mind. Time to read and learn and reflect and when the Muses have allowed… create. Time to laugh and breathe and love slowly.

A year of testing waters.

Dipping toes in tepid lakes to find the one worthy of a plunge.

I am not sure I have found her quite yet, but I have certainly discovered that I love to swim.

So here I am, back in Barcelona, doing the doggy-paddle as my professors try to drown me with Nietzsche and Aristotle.

And I couldn’t be happier.