(Reprise article)

What I would give to just once hear the ESPN SportsCenter duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh theme here in eastern Holland’s Achterhoek region. Living in Europe means the death of the sports I grew up loving.

While America was intrigued and beguiled by outstanding performances on the Salt Lake City speed-skating oval, unless you live in Wisconsin or Utah, the only time you think about this sport is during the two weeks of the Olympics.

Here, speed-skating is a national obsession. In the city of Heerenveen sits one of Europe’s largest and best skating ovals. So passionate are people here about speed-skating that everyone prays for a winter cold enough to have an “Elfstadentoch” (eleven cities journey) through the province of Friesland. When ice first forms on the canals, the mayors of the 11 cities regularly conduct tests to determine when and if it is thick enough to hold the race. Then everyone has three-days to prepare for a 120-mile speed-skating race across the canals. Race day is a national holiday and the winner becomes a legendary hero.

Friesland is the Dutch version of Key West. They have their own flag (red hearts on a pale blue background), can barely tolerate the Dutch government and do not consider themselves part of Holland. The dialect spoken there is so difficult to understand that when interviewing someone, news and sports programs use Dutch sub-titles to translate for everyone else in the country!

I do get caught up and root for the Dutch skaters, however, watching 15-thirteen minute 10,000 meter races (6.2 miles or 25 laps around the oval) is just not a pulse quickening activity. It’s like watching pre-Tiger Woods golf – yawn.

I miss the NFL but being six time zones ahead of EST has disadvantages. Even if I could pick up a game via satellite, Monday Night Football begins at 3 a.m. Tuesday morning. Same problem with the NBA Finals and World Series. I watch the Super Bowl each year but that kicks off at 12:30 and runs until 4:00 a.m.

We have four sports. Speed-skating, swimming, bicycle racing and football (soccer). Every weekend we get wire-to-wire coverage of every speed-skating heat on the European circuit or, in summer, watch bicycle races like the Tour de France. Three weeks, six hours a day, wire-to-wire coverage of every stage watching 150 people on a bicycle chase after the guys who race to the lead and tire and everyone scrambles like madmen for the finish line to wear a yellow, green, white or red jersey the next day. Ooooh, I know my pulse just quickened.

Swimming is speed skating underwater. We have two reigning world champions but at least on the speed-skating oval you see a whole person.

The amazing sport to watch is not soccer but the supporters who cheers, whistle, sing, chant and wave in unison for their team. Every sport in Europe operates under a complicated system of clubs and divisions. At a certain point there is a dividing line where athletes are paid to play and in the highest divisions the salaries are as obscene as for top US baseball and basketball players.

National rivalries are fascinating. As Texans joke about people from Oklahoma, the Dutch pick on the Belgians, Germans and French. It’s great fun watching the national team play. While soccer is commerical-free, two 45-minute halves followed by overtime and shoot-outs (in the event of a tie) can take a couple of hours to watch. A 0-0 tie ranks with pre-Tiger Woods golf.

The last big match the national team played was in 2000 as host nation in a semi-final match of the European Cup against Italy (the Belgians and Germans were already eliminated). This tiny nation came to a complete standstill as 12 million people – 75% of the entire population – watched a heart-breaking shoot-out loss on television. The ending caused a day of national mourning as people stood and wept. The failure this year of the team to qualify for World Cup competition has plunged many into a clinical state of depression while the Belgians, Germans and French are all headed to Seoul/Tokyo for the World Cup.

Sir ! Yes, you, please place the knife on the table, step back slowly and place your hands over your head – everything will be all right if you follow these simple instructions… 1. repeat after me, it is only a game. 2. again, it’s only a game. 3 again, it’s only…

(This reprise article first appeared on AnAmericanAbroad.com in 2002. As we head to this summer’s European Cup in Austria/Switzerland and North American Sports become easier to find via Setanta and Sky, it is a poignant reminder of the way things used to be, travelling via train to Amsterdam to watch the Super Bowl.)