This is Warsaw, Poland. It’s Where Robert Lewandowski is From.

This is Warsaw. It is home to many, and the home of many, including (but not limited to) current Polish striker Robert Lewandowski.

What’s it like there? One can imagine a Polish Toronto, or a Polish Chicago. Or, just Chicago. Or, Toronto. (They’re both really Polish.) It’s cold over there, though, but it’s nicer than you think. A lot nicer.

It’s odd how many people still link this little (but, really very big) nation with its images during the Cold War, and during the World Wars, and during every other years in its past 200, or 300, or 400. It’s a tortured island, but one that’s moving forward faster than any of ours on this big rock called North America.

(If you want to see just how far North America’s values have fallen, here’s a test: watch both the Republican and the Democratic National Conventions. Try finding a difference in them.)

People seem to automatically think of Poland like it’s one of the backdrops in Enemy at the Gates, or like one of those places where there are more grey wolves than people, but it’s true, and hasn’t been for a long time.

Robert Lewandowski is big, right now, in Poland. He may be big soon in the rest of Europe, which would be cool, because what’s big isn’t Poland isn’t always the most accurate swab of the temperature of that broke island above Africa.

Lewandowski is being courted by a number of high-profile clubs owned by higher profile corporations, notably Chelsea and Manchester United, even though we’ve been assured he won’t be going there. (The Daily Mail should have a blog about itself, by the way.)

Borussia Dortumund – in an effort to hog all this is Polish and great about Poland, like everyone else in the history of Germany – has turned down a multitude of offers for the one player who really mattered during his homeland’s 2012 Euro showing.

Imagine a bunch of Polish dumplings, museums with art from artists you’ve never heard of, but probably should, and large squares with folks eating cabbage and drinking piss-poor coffee. (But, isn’t piss-poor coffee the best kind of coffee?)

So, what the Hell? Go to Warsaw.