We arrived in Spain after much travel, Dulles International to Charles DeGaulle in France and then onto Barcelona. For some of us the odyssey began Saturday around eleven in the morning and for all of us it finished at one in the afternoon on Sunday in Barcelona, Spain (albeit six hours ahead of U.S. local time.) Seventeen slightly weary players, four weary team staff and nine very tired parents arrived at the most wonderful resort / training facility, the Hotel El Montanya. Our home for the next two days is perched on top of a mountain ridge and is surrounded by wonderful views, full riding facilities, tennis courts, golf course, and, of course, our training facility replete with changing room, showers and a putting green for a practice field. We approached all this by means of a typical mountain road including eight hairpin turns with breath-taking drops down the mountainside.

           After disembarking from our bus we hurried into the hotel and had our luggage locked in a secure room while rooms were being prepared for us. We proceeded into a beautiful dinning room and enjoyed a buffet that appeared toothsome to this reporter but quite alien to our MacDonald's challenged charges. I am pleased to note that most of our young men tried something from outside their usual tastes. I observed that fruit and dessert in Spain are still considered acceptable to one and all. Another interesting point, less description and more inspection led to the team making more attempts at this foreign fare. The guys for the most part now know "pollo" is chicken and "bif" is beef.

           Following what I considered an excellent repast we (the team) repaired to our training facility after retrieving the necessary garb and equipment. We then embarked on a forty-five minute training session. The session ended in sufficient time to allow us all a quick trip to the showers and a clothes change. We were then whisked off to the Espanyol Barcelona versus Vittoria Alaves game at the Olympic venue in Barcelona. (Note: I believe all bus drivers in Barcelona are retired formula one drivers and their current competitors are most of the other drivers on the road.)

           We did end up leaving the hotel parking lot somewhat behind schedule and our driver felt it was his duty to make up the time so we would not miss the kick-off. Unfortunately fate intervened and another avid football fan and possible retired rally driver sideswiped the bus. We had to stop! And guess where we stopped? In front of the largest cemetery I've ever seen. An entire large hillside more than a mile long and from valley floor to mountaintop covered with crosses, mausoleums, and niches decorated with beautiful stone work was presented to us. While we waited Dave Oertli, our host and trip coordinator, immediately got on his cell phone and ordered up another bus. Conspiracy theories abounded as our replacement bus showed up in less than five minutes! Was Enzo's support team following us? (It was at the venue where it had recently dropped of a Region One '84 team at the same match. In fact there is also an '86 Region One team here too.) We made a mad dash for gate nine at the venue. And we were admitted to the game! (They are closed shortly after kick-off.)

           We entered the Olympic stadium and found ourselves above the Barcelona goal line with a spectacular view of a magnificent field. The match had just begun and we were treated to "fotbol" Spanish style. The match certainly had its moments with Vittoria Alaves besting Barcelona 2-1 in a mediocre match with occasional flashes of minor brilliance. It is noteworthy to mention that regardless the venue the concessions aren't cheap! No matter, everyone seemed to enjoy the game.

           The match over we made our way back to the bus in hopes of another delicious repast for our dinner. Strange as it might seem the hour long bus ride put many of the occupants soundly to sleep. Fortunately our driver was alert and pushing the sound barrier. We arrive back at our temporary home only to discover our driver's diligence put us in line for a fifteen-minute wait for the dinner hour. Folks here in Barcelona eat a little later than we had expected, 8:45 p.m.!

           The team and parents settled into a delicious tuck-in with somewhat more recognizable fare. Pollo was again a great hit, as was bif. It should be noted Coach Aliff discovered "Crème Brulè." Don't tell his wife please. He can't have too great a time or he may not be allowed to go again!

           Following dinner the team sat down to discuss tomorrow's itinerary and plans for our first match, a friendly against a local team, Reus 2002. Coach Aliff set curfew and all parted for a well-deserved rest. Wish us luck!