Jim Leeke — AABP
I was at 38,000 feet over the Atlantic, headed to London on October 4 to make our Great War “baseball match” a reality. After months of planning, whiteboards, email and interviews, it was time to determine whether our plan was feasible, or one of those big, ill-fated ideas that never quite get off the ground.
Yes, right, at the moment, not to sound too Monty Python-ish, I was literally off the ground. My head in the clouds—or well above them, actually. But what would happen in the days ahead, once in England? Would the Anglo-American Baseball Project fly, like my American Airlines plane? Or was it only a dead parrot?
I imagined the UK customs officer:
“Business or pleasure?”
“Right, sir. Best of British luck.”