From Evernote:

Coach Voice

About 40 passports.  That is what Riley handed the man behind the counter.  Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Luxembourgian, a few USA's, New Zealand, Norway, Japan - one or two of the boys have Hong Kong residency cards which don't require a passport.  The Air China employee took a deep, "why my counter" breath as he grabbed the tall stack and began pounding at the keys of his desktop computer.  Riley(known by most around here as Coach D) and I leaned on the counter for about 15 minutes watching.  In a far more efficient manner  than I ever expected, the young man behind the counter attended to the task of matching each passport to its corresponding boarding pass as the documents shot one after the other from the printer.  A stack of travel bags, each identical in outward appearance, sat ready to flow up the conveyor and disapear behind the counter, hopefully ending up on our airplane.

Coach Voice - "Gentlemen, grab your bag and bring it up here so this guy can have a look at your face and match it with your passport and bag."

A sort-of-nodded, "okay coach" was the collective response.

He handed us the first group of passports.   Coach D called 'em out, "Louis, Bobby, DY, Sam, Solomon, lets go!"

Our guy stopped each bag briefly to peel the sticker-backing from the baggage claim tag, affix it to the travel bag handles, glance from the photo to the face, then return the passport, baggage claim tag, and boarding pass, to its owner. For China, heck for anywhere, a smooth operation.  

As the pile of grey and blue travel bags shrank in size, and the crowd of players - JV and Varsity mixed for this trip - huddled in conversations about girls, video games or school work, Coach D and I looked at each other with that head shaking, sarcastic look common to coaches and fathers alike.  

"What the...?"

Amidst our group of boys, uniformly dressed in khaki pants and school-issue blue polos with an embroidered dragon and a small Chinese flag, sat two lonely Dragon's travel bags, unclaimed and deserted.

"Whose bags are these," coach and I scowled in unison, the check-in routine so fresh it sarcastically rolled right off my tounge again -  "stay with your bag, listen for your name, place your bag on the conveyor, retrieve your documents, get out of the way."

No response.

Teenage conversations swirled around, disinterested, noone moved.  Riley grabbed the first of the two "lost" bags and peeling open the zipper, exposed a pair of worn blue Nike's.  

A more a effective way of getting everyone's attention.  "Whose nasty blue shoes are these?" coach called out, holding the bag open, taking careful steps not to touch the shoes.   

"Oh, mine, what's up coach?"  SS, starting pitcher, and leadoff hitter.

"Seriously dude?" 

Coach turned to me.  "One day these boys..."  - Jorick an American boy from St. Loius with Mongolian heritage, and his buddy Neil, the other bag-leaver-behinder - "...are going to run our country, but only if their Ayi takes care of their bags."

__________

That was the first day of our trip to Hong Kong for China Cup and my first experience on a baseball road trip to an International destination.  The trip, the travel, the boys were awesome.  The baseball was okay, but we certainly learned a lot as a team. 

Tomorrow, we embark on our next trip - a second trip to Hong Kong for APAC - and while our boys will certainly play better, Coach D and I will do our best to make sure they come one step closer to carrying their own luggage.