Northwestern University Athletics
Hockey In Holland: A Spring Break Blog
4/2/2018 8:48:00β―AM | Field Hockey
Northwestern's field hockey team is participating in a spring break training trip to Holland. Senior Charlotte Vaziri checks in with an update.
Day Vier (4) - This is actually really funny because we play Saar's team on Day 4 and she is number 4. Woahhhhhh.Β
It was not the unpleasantries of the Pavlov's dogs-ish morning alarm that woke me on Day 4. It was the sound of galloping hooves outside my window. Throughout the trip, teammates have awoken in panic, "Where am I?" forgetting they went to another continent, or being confused by the person directly next to them since all the hotel beds in Holland are pushed together. Too much eye contact for me. However, Starr Hotel in Utrecht was the winner in providing the most confusing wake-ups of the trip. The exception to this was Curley and Kess. Both from the land of the Kentucky Derby, they shot up out of bed with their Derby hats and pearls. Nonetheless, Starr Hotel has earned this distinction because unlike most hotels that have maybe restaurants or gift shops linked to it, it has a horse training ranch. After hearing Curley detail her experience of riding a horse named "Cherokee" in the Southside of Chicago, of all places, we 'trotted' to breakfast.
Lucy Waterhouse, our very own trained circus performer and Australian barista (all of this is a fact), was impressed with the breakfast. It featured a state of the art espresso machine. One could drown in the froth. Australians aside, the Dutch think it is perfectly reasonable to put chocolate sprinkles on their toast in the morning. It apparently is called 'hagleslag', but I just call that displaced sprinkles. Put that on some ice cream. But yeah yeah, everything in the name of culture. Otherwise more of the same, carbs with a side of carbs. Not complaining, though. After finishing our breakfasts, we filled up our water bottles to counter-act our dehydrating espressos, and loaded Utrecht's public (which would take us to the middle of the city).Β
* Eva wants everyone to know that people can fill up their water bottles using bathroom sinks in the Netherlands, unlike the United States. This was clearly an insensitive jab at the Chicago Tribune's 2016 water study showing high lead levels in water supplies across Illinois (don't have enough phone data to cite the source).*
We arrived at the city center, and had about 30 minutes of free time before our tour. As a senior, I felt nostalgic for my youth, so I decided to hang out with the freshmen. They went and got hot chocolate. I guess they have not hit the whole coffee-dependability phase of their lives. That'll probably emerge once they start taking their major requirements. Predictably, they ordered hot chocolates. Sabrina, nearly spewing out the hot chocolate exclaimed, "Wow, this hot chocolate tastes like I'm licking the brownie bowl." It's the little things, Sabrina. You go girl.Β
Departing from our practiced "good luck" line handshakes at games, we lined up for a tour of the Dom Tower of Utrecht. All the buzzing of anticipation seized to exist when Saar saw the tower and stated, " Oh...I don't remember it being this tall." Saar, this is the tallest church tower in the Netherlands. The team felt betrayed. Did Utrecht's golden girl, Saar, mistakenly lead us into a calf-killing trap? 112 meters. 465 steps. Probably. Katzman insisted that we should wear our polar straps for the climb. For those of you who don't know what polar straps are, they are devices that track metrics such as distances traveled, heart rate, etc. Whether the polar data noting heart rate spikes would be due to climbing the stairs or from the crippling anxiety of heights, there was going to be some good data. We took our first step with the hope in our hearts that we would be subbing more frequently for the upcoming game that night. Can you think of a more Division I-oriented mentality? Maybe vacation has made us soft. Β
The name, Dom Tower, derives from a Latin root that translates into, "House of God." Latin isn't looking so dead right now is it? Props to Latin. Anyway, it was originally constructed in 1321, and took 275 years to complete. The tour guide told us that the church tower was dedicated to Saint Martin. He then challenged us with the question, "Anyone know who that is?" Tracey, feeling the spring break fever, answered, "an island." This sparked laughs that echoed through the church's stone corridors. Although an island, in this instance, it was dedicated to Saint Martin, the patron of Utrecht. Martin, a solider in the Roman Empire, came across a beggar who asked for something warm. This selflessly prompted Martin to take the robe off his own shoulders and drape it on the beggar. To commemorate this gesture, annually,Β on November 11th, citizens are supposed to give something to the poor. The tour guide suggested we view it as a charitable Halloween.Β
The tower featured an intricate system of bells. The engineering behind the bells are similar to piano keys. Our pianists on the team, Eva and Annie, were given an opportunity to play the keys. Apparently, in the Mid-evil times, close proximity to ringing bells was used as a torture device. After hearing Eva and Annie's performances, I now understand why. Just kidding. They executed it very well. If hockey doesn't work out for them, they may be able to take over the current woman's job. It is said that the woman who plays the bells likes to keep it interesting. When it snows, she plays Harry Potter. WhenΒ David BowieΒ died, she played his music. Typically, she plays Disney music. This is not surprising if you take a walk through the streets. The small-town and comforting feel of the city makes you feel as though Belle from Beauty and the Beast will emerge from the alley and the whole city would join in song.Β
Nearly half-way there, or should I say, calf-way there, we continued our ascent to the top of the tower. There were images of teammates on all fours while climbing the steps. Anyone who was not religious before the climb, became so. One misstep would send us tumbling down the spiral staircase. Katzman, Lucy, and Will were given the opportunity to hit the bells with a rubber gavel. Katzman, being Katzman, knocked the dust off the bells. After that aggressive performance, we made it to the top of the tower. We were presented with a glorious birds-eye-view of Utrecht. Truly a humbling experience. Annie was sure to comment something cringe-worthy stating, " from this perspective, aren't we all just ants?" Your welcome for not allowing her to write this entire blog.Β
Everyone lived. From there, we were given free time. Some chose to spend it getting lunch at cafes that lined the canals. Others went shopping. Utrecht features vast amounts of boutiques as opposed to chain stores. Instead of being confined to a stuffy mall, the stores were outside. The style of their clothes is commonly referred to as, "Dutch clean", meaning high-quality, simplistic, yet classy, and featuring a lot stripes. Maybe once I graduate, and it becomes unacceptable to wear sweats to dinner, I'll trade in my Under Armour for this style. After capitalizing on the U.S. dollar to Euro conversion rates, we returned to the hotel to get ready for our trip to a hockey shop and the game. Sabs only had an hour to do her hair. We were cutting it close.
The bus pulled into Hockey Republic's parking lot. Eyes-widened as though we were children in a candy shop. Growing up in the States, we have grown accustomed to walking into Dick's Sporting Goods and asking where their field hockey section is. Confused, the employees would usually awkwardly guide us to the ice hockey section. Not here. We were surrounded by a warehouse of gear of every color, style, dimension, and brand. Sticks lined the walls as though we were in a university library. There were ladders that were latched to the tops of the walls so you could climb and select from the vast selection. Picture Harry Potter, when he first went to pick out his wand. We finally had options. Jason, our sports performance coach, even managed to find a stick for his two-year-old son, Luca. It's 100 percent carbon. Just kidding. The facility also sported a mini turf field so you could try out the sticks. It provided a nice supplemental warm-up before our game.Β
Saar rolled up to SV Kampong like a military hero returning from war. Today, we played her old club team. Kampong is the largest hockey club in Europe. In high school I was lucky to play on cut grass. But leave it to Dutch clubs to have 11 turf fields. Luckily for Manny, the clubhouse had a restaurant/bar. When she forgot to mold her mouth guard, she ordered an espresso, soaked her mouth guard in it, then molded it to her teeth. Gross. Somehow she is Captain. Maybe someone intervened with that election, too...
The whistle blew and we were off against the Blue we and White. The game ended with us prevailing 6-2. The Americans on our team decided collectivity to allow all the Dutch players on our team to score a goal (with the exception of Flo who is our goalie, she was too busy stopping goals). I know, it was very selfless of us. We just wanted them to have a proper homecoming.Β
After being bombarded by paparazzi parents, we went upstairs where we shared dinner and conversation with the opposing team. We had chicken curry, broccoli, carrots, you name it. Our nutritional staff at Northwestern would be throughly impressed. A board member of Kampong addressed both teams after dinner ended. He remarked that he was surprised about the number of fans we brought. Somehow we outnumbered a team in their home continent. Shout out to the families. I can hear the ghost of Bruce Miller's Northwestern flag flapping in the wind with pride. Additionally, he hysterically said, "Today, I learned how to play field hockey like it was ice hockey. You guys were so fit, aggressive, and hard-working." Jason, if you are reading this, does this exempt us from testing when we return for spring season? Let me know, thanks! Needless to say, it was a pleasure to play against such a talented and skilled team. They were exceptionally warm hosts, and I hope they follow through with their offer to tour the States.Β
Gotta go ice my calves.Β
Β
Laterz,
Charlotte "Steven" Vaziri
Β
Β
Β
Β
Day Vier (4) - This is actually really funny because we play Saar's team on Day 4 and she is number 4. Woahhhhhh.Β
It was not the unpleasantries of the Pavlov's dogs-ish morning alarm that woke me on Day 4. It was the sound of galloping hooves outside my window. Throughout the trip, teammates have awoken in panic, "Where am I?" forgetting they went to another continent, or being confused by the person directly next to them since all the hotel beds in Holland are pushed together. Too much eye contact for me. However, Starr Hotel in Utrecht was the winner in providing the most confusing wake-ups of the trip. The exception to this was Curley and Kess. Both from the land of the Kentucky Derby, they shot up out of bed with their Derby hats and pearls. Nonetheless, Starr Hotel has earned this distinction because unlike most hotels that have maybe restaurants or gift shops linked to it, it has a horse training ranch. After hearing Curley detail her experience of riding a horse named "Cherokee" in the Southside of Chicago, of all places, we 'trotted' to breakfast.
Lucy Waterhouse, our very own trained circus performer and Australian barista (all of this is a fact), was impressed with the breakfast. It featured a state of the art espresso machine. One could drown in the froth. Australians aside, the Dutch think it is perfectly reasonable to put chocolate sprinkles on their toast in the morning. It apparently is called 'hagleslag', but I just call that displaced sprinkles. Put that on some ice cream. But yeah yeah, everything in the name of culture. Otherwise more of the same, carbs with a side of carbs. Not complaining, though. After finishing our breakfasts, we filled up our water bottles to counter-act our dehydrating espressos, and loaded Utrecht's public (which would take us to the middle of the city).Β
* Eva wants everyone to know that people can fill up their water bottles using bathroom sinks in the Netherlands, unlike the United States. This was clearly an insensitive jab at the Chicago Tribune's 2016 water study showing high lead levels in water supplies across Illinois (don't have enough phone data to cite the source).*
We arrived at the city center, and had about 30 minutes of free time before our tour. As a senior, I felt nostalgic for my youth, so I decided to hang out with the freshmen. They went and got hot chocolate. I guess they have not hit the whole coffee-dependability phase of their lives. That'll probably emerge once they start taking their major requirements. Predictably, they ordered hot chocolates. Sabrina, nearly spewing out the hot chocolate exclaimed, "Wow, this hot chocolate tastes like I'm licking the brownie bowl." It's the little things, Sabrina. You go girl.Β
Departing from our practiced "good luck" line handshakes at games, we lined up for a tour of the Dom Tower of Utrecht. All the buzzing of anticipation seized to exist when Saar saw the tower and stated, " Oh...I don't remember it being this tall." Saar, this is the tallest church tower in the Netherlands. The team felt betrayed. Did Utrecht's golden girl, Saar, mistakenly lead us into a calf-killing trap? 112 meters. 465 steps. Probably. Katzman insisted that we should wear our polar straps for the climb. For those of you who don't know what polar straps are, they are devices that track metrics such as distances traveled, heart rate, etc. Whether the polar data noting heart rate spikes would be due to climbing the stairs or from the crippling anxiety of heights, there was going to be some good data. We took our first step with the hope in our hearts that we would be subbing more frequently for the upcoming game that night. Can you think of a more Division I-oriented mentality? Maybe vacation has made us soft. Β
The name, Dom Tower, derives from a Latin root that translates into, "House of God." Latin isn't looking so dead right now is it? Props to Latin. Anyway, it was originally constructed in 1321, and took 275 years to complete. The tour guide told us that the church tower was dedicated to Saint Martin. He then challenged us with the question, "Anyone know who that is?" Tracey, feeling the spring break fever, answered, "an island." This sparked laughs that echoed through the church's stone corridors. Although an island, in this instance, it was dedicated to Saint Martin, the patron of Utrecht. Martin, a solider in the Roman Empire, came across a beggar who asked for something warm. This selflessly prompted Martin to take the robe off his own shoulders and drape it on the beggar. To commemorate this gesture, annually,Β on November 11th, citizens are supposed to give something to the poor. The tour guide suggested we view it as a charitable Halloween.Β
The tower featured an intricate system of bells. The engineering behind the bells are similar to piano keys. Our pianists on the team, Eva and Annie, were given an opportunity to play the keys. Apparently, in the Mid-evil times, close proximity to ringing bells was used as a torture device. After hearing Eva and Annie's performances, I now understand why. Just kidding. They executed it very well. If hockey doesn't work out for them, they may be able to take over the current woman's job. It is said that the woman who plays the bells likes to keep it interesting. When it snows, she plays Harry Potter. WhenΒ David BowieΒ died, she played his music. Typically, she plays Disney music. This is not surprising if you take a walk through the streets. The small-town and comforting feel of the city makes you feel as though Belle from Beauty and the Beast will emerge from the alley and the whole city would join in song.Β
Nearly half-way there, or should I say, calf-way there, we continued our ascent to the top of the tower. There were images of teammates on all fours while climbing the steps. Anyone who was not religious before the climb, became so. One misstep would send us tumbling down the spiral staircase. Katzman, Lucy, and Will were given the opportunity to hit the bells with a rubber gavel. Katzman, being Katzman, knocked the dust off the bells. After that aggressive performance, we made it to the top of the tower. We were presented with a glorious birds-eye-view of Utrecht. Truly a humbling experience. Annie was sure to comment something cringe-worthy stating, " from this perspective, aren't we all just ants?" Your welcome for not allowing her to write this entire blog.Β
Everyone lived. From there, we were given free time. Some chose to spend it getting lunch at cafes that lined the canals. Others went shopping. Utrecht features vast amounts of boutiques as opposed to chain stores. Instead of being confined to a stuffy mall, the stores were outside. The style of their clothes is commonly referred to as, "Dutch clean", meaning high-quality, simplistic, yet classy, and featuring a lot stripes. Maybe once I graduate, and it becomes unacceptable to wear sweats to dinner, I'll trade in my Under Armour for this style. After capitalizing on the U.S. dollar to Euro conversion rates, we returned to the hotel to get ready for our trip to a hockey shop and the game. Sabs only had an hour to do her hair. We were cutting it close.
The bus pulled into Hockey Republic's parking lot. Eyes-widened as though we were children in a candy shop. Growing up in the States, we have grown accustomed to walking into Dick's Sporting Goods and asking where their field hockey section is. Confused, the employees would usually awkwardly guide us to the ice hockey section. Not here. We were surrounded by a warehouse of gear of every color, style, dimension, and brand. Sticks lined the walls as though we were in a university library. There were ladders that were latched to the tops of the walls so you could climb and select from the vast selection. Picture Harry Potter, when he first went to pick out his wand. We finally had options. Jason, our sports performance coach, even managed to find a stick for his two-year-old son, Luca. It's 100 percent carbon. Just kidding. The facility also sported a mini turf field so you could try out the sticks. It provided a nice supplemental warm-up before our game.Β
Saar rolled up to SV Kampong like a military hero returning from war. Today, we played her old club team. Kampong is the largest hockey club in Europe. In high school I was lucky to play on cut grass. But leave it to Dutch clubs to have 11 turf fields. Luckily for Manny, the clubhouse had a restaurant/bar. When she forgot to mold her mouth guard, she ordered an espresso, soaked her mouth guard in it, then molded it to her teeth. Gross. Somehow she is Captain. Maybe someone intervened with that election, too...
The whistle blew and we were off against the Blue we and White. The game ended with us prevailing 6-2. The Americans on our team decided collectivity to allow all the Dutch players on our team to score a goal (with the exception of Flo who is our goalie, she was too busy stopping goals). I know, it was very selfless of us. We just wanted them to have a proper homecoming.Β
After being bombarded by paparazzi parents, we went upstairs where we shared dinner and conversation with the opposing team. We had chicken curry, broccoli, carrots, you name it. Our nutritional staff at Northwestern would be throughly impressed. A board member of Kampong addressed both teams after dinner ended. He remarked that he was surprised about the number of fans we brought. Somehow we outnumbered a team in their home continent. Shout out to the families. I can hear the ghost of Bruce Miller's Northwestern flag flapping in the wind with pride. Additionally, he hysterically said, "Today, I learned how to play field hockey like it was ice hockey. You guys were so fit, aggressive, and hard-working." Jason, if you are reading this, does this exempt us from testing when we return for spring season? Let me know, thanks! Needless to say, it was a pleasure to play against such a talented and skilled team. They were exceptionally warm hosts, and I hope they follow through with their offer to tour the States.Β
Gotta go ice my calves.Β
Β
Laterz,
Charlotte "Steven" Vaziri
Β
Β
β’β’β’β’β’β’
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