Amsterdam, the American Way

While checking in to my room at the Stayokay Vondelpark Hostel, I met two Australian girls. After a few minutes of talking, we decided we would meet up in a few hours to go out drinking. After getting settled in and showering, we went out. Our plan was to pay a visit to a pub they had gone to the previous night, as I learned in Madrid, plans can change. And again, these amendments were for the better.

While walking along Leidseplein, the nearby area full of bars, restaurants and street vendors, I saw something I had not seen in weeks. It was something I had longed for. And I had finally found it.

March Madness.

I had looked the previous weekend in Paris, but was instead held captive to seemingly anything but the NCAA Tournament while in the Parisan bars. Rugby, soccer, swimming, women's gymnastics - you name it. Figuring it simply wasn't in the cards, I accepted that I would have to wait until next March to see the best three weekends of sports. But then good ol' Amsterdam bailed me out.

We walked by the bar, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a round, orange, leather object that strikingly resembled a basketball. I turned around and on a beautifully-large television was the end of the Tennessee vs. Butler game. Not even attempting to keep my composure, I became giddy with excitement. I hesitated about 3.6 seconds to explain, "Sorry, girls. I think I'm going to have to ditch you tonight, and this is where we part ways." Much to my delight though, they told me that they would be happy to join me, and that, "we can start here and then go some other place in a little bit". Little did they know that we would spend the next 4
hours (and more importantly 2 rounds of games) at Satelite Sports Cafe.



About an hour in to our stay, the girls said they wanted to meet up with friends of theirs. I said, "That's silly. Have them meet us here. You guys said the sangria is good, right? So stay. Have some more sangria. Waitress, can we get another liter of sangria? Thanks."

It was easy as that because about 30 minutes later in walked their friends. They were a group of 5 guys in their late 20's to early 30's donning matching bowling shirts. I guess the girls could read the look on my face because they immediately explained that the group were all former teammates in the English Football League and that they get together twice a year to party with one another. I thought about the justification for a second, and then realized I simply didn't care - basketball was on TV.

As it turned out, the guys were a lot of fun. For their bi-annual shindig, they play a card game that is similar to King's Cup (Sorry for any of you older than 30. I'll tell you what my parents told me when I was younger, "If you don't know, then look it up.") only this version was much more vindictive. And this game didn't really have an ending (except for the end of the basketball games - that was my cue to exit Stage Right), which meant a whole lot of alcohol consumption.



Amsterdam was off to a good start.