The Flash de la Courneuve qualified for the international 2009 Eurobowl competition, which similar to UEFA Champions League (European soccer) crowns an international and continental champion. The Flash is in Pool A with the Moscow Patriots and Berlin Adler and Round 1 of pool-play sends the Flash to Moscow.We fly from Paris-Orly to Moscow-Domodedovo via Berlin early Friday morning. Visa are checked and baggage is claimed and after a 1.5 hour wait for the coach (chartered bus) to show, we finally arrive at our hotel just north of the downtown area for dinner.
Note on entering the Motherland: It is not easy task for a foreigner to enter Russia. As an American, it is nearly impossible. My passport was shipped home to the U.S. and a proxy service paid to expedite the visa process. Forms must be filled out, stamps must be stamped, backgrounds must be checked. Of course this could have been taken care of months in advance, but I have come to expect nothing more from the French but a halfhearted effort when it comes to deadlines and red-tape. Fortunately, we received our visa and passports three days prior to the departing.Stepping into the hotel felt like I walked into a old James Bond movie. Not Sean Connery or Roger Moore's James Bond, but one of the cheesy Timothy Daulton films from the 80's. A concrete structure decorated with too many flagpoles topped with golden eagles. A grand reception and staircase, but elevators past inspection and hallways uncomfortably narrow. The bedrooms just a step above Soviet barracks.
Dinner was served in the restaurant/mess hall. Beef borscht accompanied by a meager salad and stemware filled with slab of vanilla ice cream.
Note on Borscht: Hot borscht is a hearty soup with many common optional ingredients, depending on the cuisine, including various vegetables (beans, cabbage, carrots, cucumber, potatoes, onions, or tomatoes), mushrooms, and meats (chicken, pork, or beef). It is more akin to a stew than most soups, and may be eaten as a meal in itself, usually with thick dark bread. Filling stuff but I can't seem to shake the images of gaunt soldiers fighting over the last potato in their borscht. Ill-fitting uniforms rolling around the ruins of a burned down canteen at the Battle of Stalingrad. Eerie.
The offense and defense met for close to an hour after dinner. Following the meeting, a group of players ventured out into the night. We soon were exploring the snow-dirt covered mini-malls surrounding Olympiysky, the Olympic Stadium built for the 1980 Summer Olympics. After being refused entry to a few bars, due to most of my teammates attire (and possibly skin-color), we called it a night and headed back to the hotel.A quick breakfast of strong coffee and cold eggs met us in the restaurant, and we were all out the door for the 'grand' match against the Patriots. The field was not far away, but the congested highway made the journey an hour long. The stadium was similar in size and scale to our home field, except for the heated field turf. Normally used for soccer, they roped up goalposts, and taped down yard lines, and hash marks for the game. European football at its finest.
The game was sloppy affair. The Russian team had massive players, but few athletes and experience. Our offense had no trouble moving the ball, but two fumbles on the first two drives kept us off the scoreboard in the first quarter. The Russians could only capitalize on the turnovers with two fields goals and led the match going into the 2nd quarter 6-0.Limited again by penalties the Flash only scored once quickly before the half, a short touchdown pass from Welsh to 'le petit' TE. The halftime score a disappointing 7-6.
The second half was a completely different story. The defense completely shut-down the Russian offense and forced a couple interception. The offense came out and scored a long TD pass early in the half and never looked back. Two more scores in the third and early fourth quarters put the Flash up 28-6, the eventual final score.Post-game there was time for photo-ops between teams, and the Russians were extremely friendly sportsman after the match. I had a chance to speak with the coaches of the Russian team for a bit after the match and he gave me a Moscow Patriots sweatshirt and jacket, of course with Cyrillic lettering.
Quickly back to the hotel and then out for the team dinner in restaurant where we had a banquet room rented out. The team celebrate and ate with beer, food, and cigars. The meal was another meatless-borscht entree, and main course a potato and beef in mushroom sauce. Beer was on the house, a Russian lager in Cyrillic (Russian alphabet) so I cannot type it. It was happy event, because of the win, regardless of how badly we played.Most of team then took the chartered bus down to the Red Square, which we reached at about midnight.
Note on the Red Square: The French call in the "La Place Rouge." Literally meaning "the Red Place." Lit up like Christmas, it was nearly deserted when we arrived. But gorgegous in the chilly March night air.Red Square is the most famous city square in Moscow, and arguably one of the most famous in the world. The square separates the Kremlin, the former royal citadel and currently the official residence of the President of Russia, from a historic merchant quarter known as Kitay-gorod. As major streets of Moscow radiate from here in all directions, being promoted to major highways outside the city, the Red Square is often considered the central square of Moscow and of all Russia.
In front of the Kremlin is Lenin's Mausoleum, it serves as the current resting place of Vladimir Lenin. His embalmed body has been on public display there since the year he died in 1924.
We entered the square near St. Basil's Cathedral on the eastern end of the square. It is very often mistaken by Westerners for the Kremlin, whose buildings are in fact situated across the square from the cathedral. Arguably the most recognized building in Russia, it is an international symbol for the nation and for the city of Moscow.
Note on St. Basil: This stunning cathedral is named for "Basil the holy fool." Originally an apprentice shoemaker in Moscow, he adopted an eccentric lifestyle of shoplifting and giving to the poor to shame the miserly and help those in need. He went naked and weighed himself down with chains. He rebuked Ivan the Terrible for not paying attention in church, and especially for his violent behaviour towards the innocent.The State Historical Museum of Russia closes in the square to the west. I think the building is much more impressive then it's name. The northern side of the square is occupied by the GUM department store, also known as the Upper Trading Rows.
After wandering around the former stomping grounds of Lenin, Stalin, and millions of Cold War rallies, a large group of players, hailed sign-less cabs to take us to a Club London.
Note on the cabs: Warned by our fixer Christoph, the cabs in Moscow are unregulated and known for ripped tourists off. I secured a 400 rubles charge for the trip to Club London and am glad I did so. The driver had no identification, meter, or signage. Other players paid over twice as much to get to the same place we were headed.Note on Club London: The DE of the Moscou Patriots owned this club and invited us there after the game. Unfortunately for me, this was the same DE who punched me twice in the helmet in frustration during the game. Luckily for me, he was drunk and glad to see me when we arrived.
The club was hopping when we arrived at nearly 1 a.m.. We bypassed the line and entered to the supercharged Russian pop and techno beats. The ratio of women to men was unbelievable and I felt like I was at a supermodel after party. I left with the impression there is no such thing as an unattractive Russian woman in Moscow.Jeff and I had our fill of Red Bull and Russian vodka and by 3 a.m. we found ourselves across the street from the club at a Asian 'diner' with three new guides. Katerina, Julia, and Alena some friends we earlier in the night and offered to show a view of Moscow we couldn't leave without seeing.
We hopped on the spooky Moscow, under lit metro and exited at a station somewhere outside of the city center. It's now close to 8 a.m. and the sun has broken the horizon. Our guides, obviously lost, are rapidly conversing in Russian, and Jeff and I are sobering up. We start walking along what looks to be an old fairgrounds, but what do I know... it could be a concentration camp for Americans. Where are we? Jeff and I know the team bus leaves our hotel for the airport sometime around 11. Three hours to find our way back.
The metro took us back to the Red Square, which now looks immaculate and completely different in the morning sunlight. We catch and couple vendors setting up shop and get 'early-bird' deals on t-shirts. High-tailing it to another metro station, we are greeted by early morning Muscovite violinist and the downtown metro. After a picking up a couple of bottles of 'authentic' Russian vodka we stumble into the team breakfast, stuff our faces, then duck back into the rooms to pack up and jump on the bus.Too exhausted to share our story I pass out for the whole plane ride home.
Thank you Moscow... you get a bad rap.
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