I went to my local pub the other night just to get out of the house. A recent asthma episode has left me a bit unenergetic lately. I was seated at the bar slowly making my way through a pint with a guy I didn’t know sitting next to me. Sometimes I am very open to chatting with people and other times I do anything I can to avoid eye contact. I was doing the latter when I saw the face of Shohei Ohtani, the Los Angeles Dodgers’ Japanese pitcher, looking back at me. “Shohei!,” I said aloud before realizing I said it aloud. It was too late. The man was engaged.
“Yes, Shohei. Shohei Ohtani…” and then some other things I didn’t understand.
He was from Japan. Shohei’s face, signature and jersey number were printed on a bag encasing a plastic bottle. He advertises Japanese tea, apparently.
The man next to me mostly spoke Japanese. I nearly exclusively speak English. But, we ended up finding our way through a chat.
He was traveling on his own and going back to Osaka the next morning.
When he wanted to order chips (fries), I used terrible miming skills to make sure he got those rather than crisps. He was saying “potatoes” but the crisp brand in the pub is “Taytos” which causes some confusion. Fries (chips) and ketchup it was.
The man went to college in Eastbourne for 2 months, 40 years ago. “And now you are 45?” I said, using my fingers to reinforce the numbers. He laughed. The joke translated. He’s 62.
He pointed to Shohei again then took out his phone. He went through countless photos and videos until he got to a baseball one. It was baseball back home and the crowd was enormous and cheering in unison. Baseball also translates. I love it.
I showed him a photo of my nephew who is a D1 pitcher for a college in New York. The man was impressed. And I showed him a photo of us at Dodgers Stadium years ago.
We chatted a bit more with out limited shared language. I showed him an AI photo I made of me as a doctor after the “doctored” Trump image scandal. Our mutual understanding extended to agreeing the entire thing was crazy.
He showed me more photos of home. Osaka’s cherry blossoms in bloom and some streets.
The man wanted another drink. But this time, a highball. It took me a few times to realize he was saying that and not baseball again. I helped him order a whiskey and soda with a lemon wedge. That’s a proper highball. The bar even had Japanese whiskey. He lauded the bartender for what I think was her first attempt at one.
I’ve been out of work since December and the days are getting longer while I wait for the “right job” or any job to come along. Sometimes, as I spend so much time interacting only with the computer or an AI agent, I wonder if I’ll forget how to talk to people.
The simplicity of a conversation about travel, baseball and home with another Shohei fan gave me confidence that at least for now I haven’t lost it yet.
Such a beautifully poignant moment amidst all of the uncertainty right now. Thanks for sharing!