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Published: August 9th 2021
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There is always one constant about international travel: in one way or another you have a mirror held up to your face and you learn something about yourself. It can be overt, it can be subtle, it can be difficult, it can be frivolous, it can lead to big life changes. I suppose it most likely depends on how willing you are to see the image in the mirror and what the reflection tells you.
In a very light-hearted, yet jaw dropping moment recently in Georgia, Kyle learned a little something about himself. What he is to do with the information, I do not know. What will I do with my observation? Think about it when I need a little chuckle to myself.
As a matter of course, travel has changed these days because we are in a worldwide pandemic. Not exactly breaking news. Part of the travel process now includes scheduling PCR tests so they fit right in that sweet spot of when you depart and arrive at your next destination. Because it is required by most airlines and most countries, the travel industry has made adaptations. Concierge services are available through many clinics
and hotels and the process can actually be pretty painless…well, except for the swap they stick up your nose.
We had arranged for such a service to come to our hotel, take our tests and then provide us with the documentation necessary so that we could board our next flight while we were in Tbilisi, Georgia.
A young lab technician showed up in our hotel lobby. He was very pleasant, but in true Georgian style, he was all business and not a lot of chit chat; at least that is how it was in the beginning.
We provided our documentation, handed over our cash and began completing paperwork as he pulled out all of the medical accoutrements necessary for the moment. As Kyle was completing his paperwork and I was sitting patiently waiting, George, the lab technician said to Kyle with no emotion and no hesitation, “So where do you play baseball?”
Next was a brief, but awkward moment of silence. My mind was racing considering what in the world would they ask on that PCR application that would have anything to do with baseball? Maybe I am
just not hearing correctly, you know with masks and accents and all.
Kyle’s head slowly lifted and he looked at George as if to say, “You talking to me?”
George kept fiddling with his swabs and test tubes and kind of looked at Kyle as if to say, “this isn’t a difficult question dumb ass.” (I added the dumb ass part. George was much too polite for that.)
Finally, Kyle was able to mutter a somewhat audible “huh?”
George patiently, politely and flatly repeated his question. “Where do you play baseball?”
Okay, now I am completely confused and completely entertained all at the same time. I am also thankful I am wearing a mask, so no one can see my delight in this weirdly intriguing moment.
Kyle looks blankly again at George as if there is some language barrier. And although language barriers were much more common than not during our time in Georgia, at this moment the English was quite clear and very articulate.
In an effort to end Kyle’s non-responsive and socially awkward stance, George said without
any question in his voice, “You do play baseball, don’t you?” He said it like a lawyer who already knew the answer to the question and just needed the witness on the stand to confirm his case.
Finally, Kyle cautiously smiles, puts his pen down as if to give George his undivided attention and says, “Yes I play baseball, but how do you know that?”
Without hesitation or wavering and with complete confidence, George said, “I could tell by the way you walk.”
As Kyle sat with his disbelief and attempted to make sense of what he just heard, I tried with all my might not to fall out of my chair in laughter.
As George began to stick a swab up Kyle’s nose, I felt somewhat redeemed. For many years I have told Kyle I can tell what sport an athlete plays simply by the way he or she walks and for all those years I can tell Kyle has teetered between thinking I was exaggerating and maybe I was on to something.
I am sure I do not have to tell you what
happened next. Two baseball enthusiasts began sharing their thoughts about baseball, baseball players and even favorite pitches.
We learned George plays for the Georgian national baseball team and plays the same position as Kyle, pitcher. We learned that a 27 year old and a 47 year old from very different countries can have an instant bond over a simple game. And we learned that simply talking about baseball can blend away some of that token stoicism all Georgians seem to carry with them.
I am not sure what Kyle learned about himself when this proverbial mirror was handed to him, but I swear the rest of the day he had a little more strut in his baseball player walk. I don’t think being a successful lawyer or functioning adult is nearly as exciting as learning that even though you are getting older, that baseball player inside you is still visible to the rest of the world.
* **For more stories and photos about our travels, please follow along on Facebook at Valeri Crenshaw and on Instagram at Valerispassport!***
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Carolyn
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Baseball Body Language
Great story of baseball connections in Georgia. Dave will love it, of course. His recent senior softball “essay” attests to those “baseball” genetics alive in aging players whose walk/run is a bit slower and stiffer these days. George, the Georgian pitcher, is a very perceptive young man. So cool that he recognized what Kyle carries in his baseball body memory and movements.