May 13, 2008

Sherri Coale will pen a daily journal of her team's European tour. Read below to get the head women's basketball coach's perspective on the 10-day visit to Italy and Greece.

The University of Oklahoma women's basketball team will tour Europe for 10 days, stopping in Rome, Italy, and Athens, Greece, to see the sights and play games against local clubs and the Greek Olympic Team.

Related Articles Day 1: Sooner Women Travel to Rome |   Photos Day 2: Colosseum Visit Highlights Day 2 |   Photos Day 3: Vatican by Day, Big Win by Night |   Photos | Box Score

Day 2 Journal: The Vatican

Vatican City is its own country. It has its own zip code; its own postage stamps; its own law enforcement. It is the home of the Pope. And people stand in line for half a day just to enter the walls for a glimpse of the kingdom.

Fortunately, we had reservations.

It would be impossible to attempt to relay the size, the scope, the intricate beauty of the structures inside the Vatican. St. Peter's Basilica is 700 feet long -- in Oklahoma terms, that's two football fields and then some. So, you get the idea. We saw perhaps only half of this historical masterpiece and it was all any of us could comprehend in one dose.

I found that Michelangelo was not even originally a painter; he was a sculptor commissioned by Pope Julius II to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Seriously, shouldn't Pope Julius be a little more heralded? I shudder to think what the world would have missed had Michelangelo not been called off tomb building duty to pick up a brush and stroke. He spent four straight years painting al fresco via scaffolding. Then he returned 30 years later to paint the infamous Final Judgment scene on the alter wall at the entry of the chapel. Significant study of this panoramic depiction of saints rising and sinners falling reveals a bit of the artist's personality as well as the historical evolution of societal norms that occurred in the 20 years separating the two projects. Over 250 individuals are represented on the wall -- some are clothed and some are not -- and several individuals who had delivered less than fabulous feedback on the artist himself found their likenesses positioned squarely on the underside of the clouds plummeting toward darkness. It seems to me that people haven't changed all that much in the last 500 years.

I walked away from Vatican City in awe of our ancestors and their uncanny attention to detail. I can't even fathom how much marble had been carved or how long it must have taken to carve it. I can't imagine that the sculptors had many types of tools but what amazes me most is not the intricate use of a hammer and a chisel but the deliverance of detail that had to come solely from the mind's eye. There was no photography! So, the image of a lion trapping its prey was from memory. The veins in the arms of the gods and the expression on the face of a frightened mother were created from observance. Not only were the artisans attentive to detail in the artistic endeavor itself but maybe even more so in the stuff of daily life. I'm reminded of how fast we go and how advantageous it might be to notice a little bit more along the way.

Tonight we played our first game. Day one of competition is always an adventure! En route to the gym we passed lush, rolling land peppered with modest vineyards and swirling seas of red poppies. We saw several quaint hillside cottages with terra cotta roofs and one majestic castle on the top of a mountain. The rural countryside is always my favorite part.

We played well in the first half and inattentively in the second. They were shocked by our speed; we were shocked by how many steps they were allowed to take while shooting a lay-up. We shot 69 percent in the first half and scored 63 points. (That in and of itself is outstanding news, even if we were playing five versus none!) Unfortunately, our numbers weren't as impressive in the second half as we have not yet matured enough to consistently compete against the game. That, however, is what makes this trip such an opportunity. If we learn nothing more than that as a basketball team, Italy will be our new sixth man!

We're driving back into Rome as I type ... the sun has set and it's dusk ... and some lamp lit sidewalk café and a bowl of pasta are calling my name!

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Day 1 Journal: Arriving in Rome

At the start you want to take a picture of everything. You want the rocks. You want the river. You want the trees. And you take a lot of really lousy pictures that end up at delete, thanks to the age of digital photography. Fortunately, you quickly ascend toward landmark photography: the Colosseum, the Senate building in the Forum, the statue of Marcus Aurelius. Soon you realize that you just took fairly average pictures of the exact same things that grace the fronts of postcards in every corner market. Finally, if you're lucky and you have some experience traveling, you graduate to photos of people you actually know in front of fabulous once-in-a -lifetime-places to be and, of course, that's where you should have started all along.

Sometimes you just can't help yourself even when you know better.

Appropriately, our first stop in Rome was the Colosseum: the icon of all modern competition, the historical center for political propaganda, the birthplace of priority seating. As we meandered around the bowl, my modern mind kept waiting for Russell Crowe to pop out of one of the stone cages in the understage. The upper levels had alcoves which offered breathtaking views of the city and, though the structure itself is only a shell of what it once was, it's easy to imagine it filled with 73,000 screaming enthusiasts. I liked it there. The aura of it made me want to stand tall and fight hard.

We traipsed down streets flanked by partial temples and churches and senate buildings -- remnants of a world that flourished before drowning and being buried alive by mud. Buildings that were built upon buildings are now uncovered and revered as archeological ruins. We touched alabaster columns, walked on the most intricate of mosaic tiles and stared up at coffered wood ceilings three stories high. And everywhere we looked, there were statues. From this "underworld" we climbed a steep flight of stone stairs (some more briskly than others!) and found ourselves in the back door of the Forum. It felt like Disneyworld when you round a corner and you're suddenly in a John Wayne western.

It did not disappoint! The Forum was amazing -- it's everything thing the pictures and movies depict it to be, complete with all the pigeons. But the best parts of the city are the alleys, the streets nobody tells you to go down. That's where you get the good stuff. That's where you see how people live and are reminded of why we try so hard to copy their style. That's where you find bouggenveillia streaming out of window boxes and laundry strung across a line.

When we finally got back on the bus to go to the hotel for check-in, there was a collective crash as our entire party hit the wall of a 4:30 a.m. departure and a nine hour overnight flight. Hotel check-in with a team is always a bit of a debacle: bags and people and an elevator traffic jam. But this one at the Jolly Hotel was unlike any pile up I have ever been a part of. The antiquated elevator system had us and our bags (and our bags and our bags ) backed up in a serpentine line for a quarter of a mile. Stairs aren't an option -- which alarmed me a bit in the case of a fire -- so patience wasn't either. And I must say, my guys made me proud.

The evening ended with a welcome dinner at a cozy restaurant just across the street from the hotel. We were escorted right in and a bevy of white-coated waiters descended upon us bringing course after course of everything you can think of, and then some. For Italians, eating is an art form. It is a process. And how you savor the process is almost as important as the food itself.

Day one has whet our appetite for Rome...can't wait to see what tomorrow brings!