It’s
Friday afternoon and I’m online looking at basketball tickets. The FIBA championship is being held in
Madrid, and I figure I might as well try to go to a game. I click on team USA and see that they’re
playing in Barcelona the next day. 10
hours later I’m sitting on a train, en route to the coast.
We
arrive in the morning with plenty of time to caffeinate, eat lunch, and prepare
for the 4 o’clock game. The contest
itself was pretty anticlimactic, but it was nice to see USA route the Mexican
team, led by sharpshooting Stephen Curry.
He finished with 20 points, and the red, white, and blue emerged with
the
victory relatively unscathed.
victory relatively unscathed.
Fast
forward to 3:30 AM. We’ve been at Opium
(the club not the drug) a little longer than I would’ve liked. What can I say? Fancy nightclubs aren’t really my scene. We’re minding our own business, waiting for
the girls to reemerge from the bathroom, when a line of giants files through
the crowd. I do a double take. That was Steph Curry! Before I could react they had made their way
to the VIP section, but for a brief moment, I was celebrating the win in
Barcelona with the entire USA basketball team.
I turned to Brian, saying, “Next time I’ll buy them a drink,” but who
was I kidding, there probably isn’t going to be a next time. It isn’t very often that I run into
professional athletes, let alone the entire American squad.
After
two good meals and a walking tour the following day, we made our way back to
the train station for an overnight ride back to Madrid. Despite flooding on the tracks, a three-hour
delay, and an emergency change of trains in Zaragoza, we made it back to the
apartment by 8 AM. I had just enough
time to shower, eat breakfast, and walk over to school for International
Marking class at 9. What did you do this
weekend?
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