I arrived to America September 11th, 2016. It was a Sunday. An American Football game played on a giant television at the airport and an even bigger American flag hung over the entrance to US customs like a blanket too thin to keep you warm. The smell of cinnamon buns and shiny little hot dogs filled the air. Eagles soared high overhead. Security guards chased the eagles with insufficiently sized butterfly-nets screaming, “How did these eagles get in here?” as the birds swooped down attacking us. Ah yes, this was really it, the America I had heard of, land of opportunity… and everything else.
Here in America they speak a language called English. I understand every word. It is amazing. Bushy tailed animals called squirrels stand on their hind legs and look at you then run up a tree. When people make eye contact, they acknowledge each others existence with a smile or a nod as opposed to simply staring blankly at one another, the traditional Middle Eastern greeting. The money is green and thick as t-shirts. Giant trees and shopping malls grow from the cool, moist earth. The streets are wide and bumpy from the changing weather. They call these “seasons”. They say it will be “autumn” soon, whatever that is.
I do not know of these things. I am but a simple man from a far-off land called Israel where I was once a King. In Israel, water does not fall from the sky. The rocks have been turned to dust, trampled by 10,000 years of conquering armies and our unforgiving sun god Ra. It will take some getting used to. For now, a nice family has taken me in. I live in a small room in their home. I am like Brooks in the film Shawshank Redemption. I must be reintroduced to society after so many years away. And likes Brooks, I must stand on my wobbly little stool and chisel my name into the rafters overhead, into the book of life– wait, Brooksy hanged himself, well then like Morgan Freeman’s character, the one who did not hang himself, but instead went out into the world to pack groceries and fulfill his dreams. That’s right, Ladies and Geetles, theKing of Jewish Baseball is back and ready to rock. Using only the power of imagination, and other new technology, we will go on this adventure together. Like the poet Big Boi used to say… “Me and you/Your mama and your cousin too.”
Team Israel reports this Thursday for the 2016 World Baseball Classic Qualifier. We’ll roll into Brooklyn early next week, a few days before the games begin. Here we go, again, like last time, but better. I am not sure how much writing I will be able to do. I may have to resort to short hand to keep you all updated, so check me and other members of the team out on anti-social media.
See you all at the ballpark.
http://www.worldbaseballclassic.com/schedule/#/qualifying-round