Do I Look Like Your Travel Agent?

[der meister 2,966]

               Something strange happened as Toronto Legion defenseman Ryuji Sakamoto and I, a dashing, intrepid reporter, departed the plane that flew us, with some layovers, from Istanbul, Turkey, to Toronto, Ontario, Canada. As we grabbed our luggage from the baggage carousel, a man approached us from the side. I turned toward the movement and saw that he was wearing a black suit, holding a white sign upon which was written in black marker: R. Sakamoto.

 

               "Ah, there you are!" the man exclaimed, sounding relieved. "Mr. Sakamoto," he continued toward a bemused Sakamoto (the man ignored me entirely), "we need you to go to gate 11C as soon as possible."

 

               "Who are you?" I asked, raising a confused eyebrow. "We just arrived here; why would we go to another gate?"

 

               "Haven't you been told?" the man asked anxiously. "Mr. Sakamoto has been selected to represent Team Asia in the World Junior Simulation Hockey Championships! The first game is in two days, and you're not even on the right continent!"

 

               The World Juniors? I shouldn't be surprised at the inclusion of young Sakamoto on the Asian team, but why did no one tell him beforehand?

 

               "For real?" Sakamoto exclaimed. "Where am I supposed to be, man?"

 

               "The flight that is departing very soon from gate 11C will bring you to Hong Kong, where you will meet the rest of the team before moving to the location for the event." The man in the suit was clearly worried that Sakamoto would miss the flight. "Please hurry! It was relayed to me that the team needs you to be there as soon as possible."

 

               Sakamoto looked toward me and scratched his head. "I dunno man," he said to me, ignoring the suit entirely. "Does this sound legit to you?"

 

               Before I could answer, the man in the suit reached into his jacket and pulled out identification and a small silver medallion on a necklace, which he handed to Sakamoto. For his part, Ryuji looked embarrassed to be receiving a necklace from a total stranger in a public space. "Put this on after you land in Hong Kong," the man instructed. "It will help the others locate you so that you can all travel as a group."

 

               Fast forward two days and Ryuji and I, along with 22 other hockey players from the continent of Asia, are standing on a dimly-lit pier in Hong Kong. Each player on the team is wearing an identical silver medallion, which picks up the scant light and seems to magnify it, at least somewhat. Mist is thick over Hong Kong harbor, and I wonder exactly what the hell is going on. From out of the mist, a Chinese Junk sails from out of the mist and docks at the pier.

 

               The team's head coach takes a deep breath, loud enough to be heard over the sloshing froth of water. "Time to get on board, fellas," he says in English, which has become the common tongue of the players from across the sprawling continent. "Time for a handful of people in a leaky boat to save the world."

 

I'm referencing the 1995 Mortal Kombat movie here, in case you didn't know.

 

[Agito 212]

Congratulations on your place in this championship! Toronto is with you all the way and we hope you come back with a nice medal in your hands. 
 

- Tommy Julien