Today was a good day.

I rarely have a truly bad day. Even when I was in Iraq, I rarely had a truly bad day.

I learned a long time ago that life is sweet, and that you have to enjoy it. Stop and smell the roses. You know.

I think that is one of the reasons that I REALLY love baseball. It's that kind of game.

So, here I am in Germany.

Tell me, do you think Germany and baseball go together?

Apparently, it does.

Let me explain.

Isabelle. Our friend. The one that calls Gimli "Kasper". Married my friend Chad last Saturday.

Chad loves baseball almost as much as I do.

Chad loves baseball the way that someone that used to play it does. I love it the way that a person that is fascinated by it, but truly sucked at playing it.

Isa is this truly beautiful soul that wants to understand and enjoy the things that her husband enjoys, and, since she is probably going to spend the rest of her life in America, wants to understand and enjoy American things.

So, Isa found baseball in Bavaria.

I'm not talking about Little League or something like that. I am talking about teams and players that were working on representing Germany in the World Baseball Classic.

It was a big outing. Isa and Chad; Amy and I; Isa's sister, Anke, and her boyfriend, Jurgen; and their friend Andrea went to see what we thought was this game. We had no idea what to expect. We were just trekking 70 kilometers down the autobahn in search of baseball.

Isa had emailed the team's front office, and found out that the tickets were only 3 euro (about $3.60). How bad could it be?

Isa, demanding an "American" experience, had bought 2 cases of Budweiser, encouraged all of us to wear appropriate "American" attire for a baseball game (I supplied multiple caps), translated "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" into German, and got me, Amy and Chad to teach the song to everyone else ... on the drive down.

We got there.

It was this sad little field.

Or that was my first impression.

Short outfield fences. Only two bleachers, no other seating.

We found the home side, and set up our lawn chairs, just in time for the first pitch.

The first pitch of what we found out to be a double header.

Shortly after it started, Chad and I went in search of the souvenir stand. We found this guy, George. It turns out George is the president of the Furth Pirates Baseball Club, we found out later. He shows us around the entire complex, and shows us everything that you can buy ... to include fitted (not adjustable) caps that the players wear. Chad buys a cap. Amy has my cash. So, I don't buy anything.

We go back in time for the second inning.

It was better than college baseball, but not quite AA minor league ball. I'm thinking A or Rookie league ball ... or VERY good independent league in the States. 9 innings.

Very "small ball" (bunts, steals, "hit and run" plays, etc) kind of game.

My favorite.

BTW, our little group of 7 sang "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" at the 7th inning stretch, even though the rest of the crowd and the announcer didn't go there.

About the 7th inning stretch is when we found out it was a double-header.

The Pirates won the first game.

We knew that we were going to root for the Pirates coming in the door because the Pirates are from Franconia (a region in Bavaria[our region of Bavaria]), and the other team wasn't.

The Pirates won the second game, as well.

I kept score, and enlightened my German friends about the "ins and outs" of the game.

There were more than a few players that Chad and I, both, thought should be playing in the Minor Leagues in the States.

It was the first baseball game that I have been to since the summer of 2003. My parents took me to Bush Stadium to see the Giants play the Cardinals.

It was well played. They played the type of game that I enjoy the most.

I left with a fitted team cap, and a team jacket.

... And we never paid for our tickets. We were, apparently, honored guests.

We came home. Amy crashed. Gimli ... Kasper and I ... I put on my Pirates jacket and cap, and we went on a walk for an hour.

I've had a great baseball and dog day.

I hope your weekend is, at least, half as good as mine. Because if it is, then you have had a heavenly weekend.