Skip to main content

My Journey to France

Another of one of those basketball stories.

When I started coaching basketball, I was chosen (and that time I was not even in the country for 6 weeks) to be on the board of the basketball federation. It was a fun experience. I was in charge of a program whose main purpose was to promote basketball to the youth.

The fun part was that I had access to a Mercedes and a driver who would drive me around to basketball camps within the city. Overall, more than 1000 kids were involved in the camps and we did it for two straight years.

Then, a friend of mine called me to ask me if I would do a presentation to a group of people who came from France. They wanted to know about what we were doing with those basketball camps. I was glad to do the presentation and enjoyed the free food that was provided ( I am always open to opportunities).
For some reason, the French people were impressed (my presentation skills maybe....). They told me that they would invite me to France so that I could share my stories (maybe they knew one day I would be writing this blog.... Just a thought).

Did I believe them? Not really. I didn't even think about it. However, six months later, I receive a call asking me to bring my passport to the French embassy to apply for a visa. What do you mean? I asked my friend. What for? A lot of questions went through my mind. Yes, my French connection worked!!!! I had no passport at that time, though. What a loser!!!

I managed to get a passport within 24 hours (I talked to my people who talked to their people, if you know what I mean). Oh, I forgot to mention that the trip was scheduled in 6 days. I had to travel with another guy that I knew. He could not believe that we could make it. And to make it worse, the guy who was supposed to pay for our flight tickets was not in the country. And to top it all off: the Embassy denied our visa request. Four days to go. No visa, no ticket, no hope. Not for me though. I spent years of my life watching Michael Jordan taking those last second shots and making them. I could be like Mike.

Two days to go. We finally got the visa (my people called their people. You already know the story. Don't you?). But no ticket. The guy who was supposed to travel with me, decided not to go because, according to him, there was no way we could get the money for the tickets within 24 hours (he did not watch Michael Jordan, I presume).

I had 24 hours to find a way. This time, my people could call nobody. The first thing I did was to call my friends in France. I wanted to know, if I were able to find someone to buy the ticket for me, if they would be willing to reimburse this person.. They said yes. Who could give me $1200 (1.2 million in the local currency) in less than a day?

As I was sharing my story with my coworkers at the radio station, one of them just stated: “Why won't you ask “President” (that was how we called our boss)”? I had nothing to lose. So I did. Guess what? He paid for the ticket (our boss was one heck of a person). Next morning, I flew to France where I spent 7 days.

Moral of the story? When it comes down to the wire, and you need a big play, just be like Mike: Take the shot!



Always a pleasure
Patrick
The Journeyman.
pbizindavyi6@gmail.com

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My Journey to my wedding

Where do I start? I don't really know. As I am waiting for my flight at Kigali airport, with tears in my eyes, I am thinking about the last few days. There are no words that can explain what I have experienced in this month of December 2010. As Phil Collins said, it's another day in paradise. The person who said that words are powerful was so right. It took a few words from my then girlfriend, now wife (are you kidding me!!!!), to start a series of events that led me to this moment. She just said: “Honey, this long distance thing is killing me”. Having been in a couple of long distance relationships, I knew what she meant. This time, it was different. I had to do something, otherwise, this relationship would end up like the other ones. I had promised myself to do whatever it took to make this one work. As I hung up the phone, I thought I had to move mountains. I had to find a way to meet her. Originally, my intention was to visit her in July 2011, however, this felt like a cent

My Journey to my meeting with Bob Proctor

He is a hero of mine, I have studied his material for years, I had met him once and at that time he even signed one of the books he gave to me. But, spending three hours in an intimate setting, hearing him calling my name, him talking to me from a few feet away was just a dream come true. Bob Proctor is simply a genius. He has been studying the laws of success for over fifty years, but he has a simple way of explaining things that I found myself saying “wow” all the time. I have listened to his audios, read his book and saw hundreds of his videos. It has come to the point where I can finish his sentences before he finishes them. But seeing him live telling his story is another thing. Call me crazy, but I just believe that I will end up working with him. I don't know how or when this is going to happen, but I know I will. It is with the same belief that I know I will one day meet Michael Jordan and Nelson Mandela (being with Pathe'O few weeks ago made me feel I am not that far

My Journey to a meeting with Gandhi

You must be thinking that I lost my mind when I say that I met Gandhi. Don't worry. I am doing fine. I met him only in a story that I heard. Do you want to hear it? I know you do. So I will tell the story Long time ago, there was a lady in India whose son was eating too much sugar. She tried so many times in vain to ask him to stop eating sugar. After a while, she thought that Gandhi could help. She took her son to Gandhi and begged him to tell him to stop eating sugar. He carefully listen to the lady, and then went: “Please come back in two weeks, I will be able to help you” Two weeks later, the lady came back to see Gandhi. The Mahatma looked in the young boy's eyes and told him: “Please stop eating too much sugar”. That was it. The lady could not believe it. “Do you mean I had to wait two weeks for you to ask my son to stop eating sugar” she said. “Why couldn't tell him in the first place?” Then, Gandhi simply said: “You see madam. Two weeks ago, I was still eating sugar