While handball is getting more and more popular, there are not a lot of teams in the country which are very, very strong. Therefore, like maybe all the other players in the national team, I had to leave the Netherlands and settle elsewhere, to pursue my career.
I was only 18 years old when I left to Denmark, to play for SønderjyskE, a team in Aabenraa, close to the border with Germany. My parents drove me there and I told them it is OK, I was acting all tough, looking very, very sure on myself, ready to start the challenge. I was trying to ensure that they were not feeling bad for leaving me there.
On one hand, it worked. On the other hand, I cried throughout the first day, because I did not know what I was going to do. I did not know how to cook, I did not know how to wash my clothes, I was all alone in a foreign country without any idea how I was going to survive.
What happened next? Well, my father is a great cook, the best I know. So, it was pretty clear that I was going to call him every day, to see when the potatoes are done, to see when the meat is completely cooked, to basically learn some tips and tricks about how to cook.
PS: there were times when even with the smartest of advices, the food was impossible to eat. It was simply not eatable. So, after the phone call with my family, I quickly typed in the number of a local pizzeria or went directly to the closest fast-food, just to eat something that day. Yes, I know it is not the best advice for a player, because the nutrients were not exactly the best, but I did what I had to do to survive.