Planes, Trains, and Sidecars

Let’s travel back in time to March. Business at the tennis ranch in Texas was at a steady roar. We had just completed Spring Fantasy Camp (when the legends (Roy Emerson, Owen Davidson, Ross Case, and John Newcombe) take over the camp and the pros become overworked towel boys (and girl)). My soul started getting that restless feeling like air-popped popcorn in my stomach. I felt that I was going to explode if I didn’t make a change. I begged myself to have patience and wait for a golden opportunity that may or may not come. I practiced breathing deeply and wrote ‘Patience’ on my bathroom mirror so it would be the last thing I saw before bed and my first morning mantra. One day my roommate asked me if I’d like to go to China, as if she was asking me to go out for ice cream.

‘Yes. Yes I would’.

Mel went to China for the summer last year. She stayed three months and loved it. She reported that the boss, Howard, would do anything to make his coaches feel comfortable. Mel gave Howard my number and I spoke to him on the phone later that week. He told me that if I chose to come I’d be coaching children and have the opportunity to train for and play in a few amateur and pro tournaments. He also explained that he has his own project that involves teaching tennis to orphans from the local orphanage. I think he asked if I was interested, but I can’t be sure because I stopped listening and started packing my bags.

It was a long road getting to China between visa complications and a total of 36 hours of travel. The only consolation to this travel time came in the form of a small piece of candy. Before leaving the states I visited my brother in Colorado where I was given a (legal) ‘mile high’ candy as a parting gift. I forgot that I had shoved this candy into a pocket of my carry-on until I was in line at airport security. I had a choice to make- either get out of line and find an inconspicuous trash receptacle, or power through. I popped that little morsel in my mouth, put it under my tongue, and breezed through security like I owned the place. My memory gets hazy after that, but I do remember trying to keep up a conversation with a hippie woman who had a kokopelli tattoo on her calf. Needless to say, I had a very sleepy yet insightful flight after that.

Before leaving American soil, I had a six-hour layover in San Francisco. This was welcomed as I have friends in the city that I met last year when I spent the summer in Napa. The best of these is JB. I took the Bart from SFO to Montgomery Street where I walked 8 blocks in the wrong direction, still groggy from my first flight. Once redirected, I met JB for tea at one of those funky San Francisco coffee houses/art galleries where city folk shuffle around slowly holding mugs, whispering softly, and look overly-attentively at paintings of naked people. We ate brunch and pretended we had all the time in the world until reality caught up to us; JB needed to get back to work and I had a plane to catch. We caught a Sidecar (technology is amazing) back to JB’s office where he insisted that I take the car instead of the Bart to the airport. I resisted once in order to appear polite, but I knew he wouldn’t budge.

‘How do you feel?’ he asked.

‘Scared shitless’ I replied truthfully.

‘Don’t be. You’re going to do great. I’m so proud of you. Just have fun and BE CAREFUL’. With that pep talk, JB gave me the kind of hug you can still feel for minutes after it's over. I dipped into the car and took deep breaths. Dave, the Sidecar driver, startled me when he spoke up. He had been watching us in his rearview mirror. 

‘Yup. It’s moments like those that make you feel human’ he stated, very matter-of-factly.

‘Yup.’ I repeated with a frog in my throat.

Have you ever experienced a moment of clarity in your life? It’s as if time has stopped for a few seconds and you have stepped out of your skin, seeing your life through objective eyes. Everything is the same, but yet so foreign. In this moment you may ask yourself questions like ‘How in the world did I get here?’ or ‘What the eff am I doing?’ Have you ever experienced a moment of clarity while on an airplane heading to China? Thankfully, my MOC spurred only excitement and sureness. Every part of my mind and soul was happy with my decision even though I was terrified. I was distracted from this phenomenon by the massive peaks towering below us. Six hours into the flight we were high above Alaska. It was hard to decipher clouds from snow because everything looked so pure. I watched heaven and earth swirl together thousands of feet below. The sun was setting, but our airplane chased it, resulting in sunshine the whole way to China. Only when we arrived in Honk Kong did the sun finally win, consoling our loss with a beautiful dark blue sky- a backdrop for the shadowed mountain range looking over the city. As I took my first steps on a continent other than North America, more deep breaths came in and out of my lungs. Dave the Sidecar driver’s words came back to my mind.

These are the moments that make you feel human.