I sat with my brother, Dan, arms draped over one another’s shoulders, bearing witness to one of the most memorable 30 seconds in Philadelphia sports history. As the only baseball/Phillies diehards in the living room of my then-girlfriend’s apartment, we alone grasped the intensity of this moment. The chill that overcame us was brought on by something far more powerful than the October air – it was the work of a man on a small bump of dirt, operating live before a packed theatre.
The response to World Baseball Project’s campaign to “Get Ro to Kenya” thus far has been astounding. Big shout-out to my pops with a $200 drop in the bucket, as well as to Rich Karsay for his second $100 contribution since funding started last August. Thanks to everyone’s generosity, we are around 80% for securing a totally awesome experience for Rohobot.
So far, contributions will cover (at current rates)*:
I can’t tell you how excited he’s going to be when I send him his flight confirmation. He is really amazed that you guys who don’t know him are willing to send money so he can have this experience. Really, truly, he is grateful for your gifts.
The first time I shook Jim’s hand was at a train station in Southeast Pennsylvania. His mystique was as palpable in person as it was online. His LinkedIn profile displayed a man about the world, framed in a cowboy hat, his mile-wide southern grin nuzzled against a thick white beard. He was an accomplished wildlife conservationist with footprints in many corners of the globe.
Now, as I push my well-loaded luggage cart through this parking garage-cum-arrival terminal at JKIA, we meet for the second time. After three weeks of food, friends, and fun in Ethiopia, I’d made my way from Addis to Nairobi, not entirely certain how the next few months would play out.
“Welcome to Kiniia,” Jim boasts, hand extended. Rosy cheeks pronounce his grin.