I spent most of last week in Indianapolis covering the Winter Meetings. All of the baseball stuff can be found over at NBC. The best thing that happened there, however, had nothing to do with the game.
Tuesday night: Though it’s a under a mile from the meetings to my hotel, I take a cab back because it’s snowing and blowing and the temperature is plummeting. I love talking to cab drivers for some reason, so I immediately launch into conversation with my driver, who is quite obviously a newcomer to our shores.
We talk about the weather. He says it’s very hard for him to get used to, what with him being from Africa and all. Yeah, that would be difficult I agree. Africa, eh? Whereabouts? Darfur, he says. Wow, I’m impressed. I’ve never met anyone from Darfur before. Must be some culture (and weather) shock to be in Indianapolis, eh? Yeah, he says, but Indianapolis is way better than where he spent the first few months after he got to the U.S.
Me: Where was that?
Him: Lima, Ohio.
Me: What did you think of Lima?
Him: After two weeks there I wanted to go back to Darfur, and people were trying to kill me there, brother.