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Rimantas Kmita is a poet, essayist, literary critic and researcher. Kmita is the author of three collections of poetry. This novel describes the beginning of the tenth decade in a proletarian city, undergoing shake-ups of a newly restored state. No, hold it, not like that. We get out. In Hanover. I get out and stand there. Ya hear — in Hanover! All together now: Ha-no-ver!
Dig it? My mind reels. Pretty cool, though. They give us space by the stadium, on some lawn. Every possible coach, for all age groups, was with us on the bus, even though we only had two age groups going. They made it look like they were all aces with the German language. One coach stays with us. The match just ended. So we change and go. They give us balls. When you fall on your knees on gravel, you remember your mama, your granny, and your whole extended family.
In other words, we frisk about, practice some plays and finish. We scarfed all our sandwiches and cookies on the road. Yup, raw meat. We look at each other and shrug. We understand what this means — this here is healthy food, you know, lots of energy after practice. We take it. We bite and chew. We bite and think: how do I keep from barfing? Loser — raw meat in your mouth! And you take a second one. Like nothing. No one barfs or books to the john.
After chowing down, we go to the city to check it out. Well, yeah — what else would it be? Yup, lit up. Like some miracle. Yet there, we could understand something, and here, almost nothing. We check out the automatic machines on the street where you throw in some coins and get some gum. What does it mean, check out?
