It all began late one morning... early Spring of this year... the air smelled mixed with just-cut wet grass and freshly-oiled leather baseball glove... the blending sounds of distant songbirds and close-by kid's voices were silenced by a distinctive "CRACK of the bat"... and I woke out of my dream. I didn't know, at that very moment, which was worse... the thought of climbing out of a toasty warm bed... or... the fact that I wasn't going to play baseball today... because there was no baseball where I was... a little border town in North-East Poland.