By Paul Honda
paul@hondareport.com
Sunday, Feb. 18, 2007

The notion of covering the ILH 3-BIIF 3 boys basketball game, the one with a state-tournament berth at stake, didn't strike me as an assignment.

I could not see my bosses going for that. It's one thing to cover a state-tourney game off-island, but a play-in? Hmm...

But as the week started, I knew I had to go. Nothing would be provided for me, as expected in this situation. But I had a birthday gift from a friend, a Go Airlines ticket pass (or whatever it's called). My editors said go for it, and suddenly, I was ready to be in Kona for the first time in several years.

So many friends to see. I decided to stay two days since I could do my usual Sunday work routine while there. (Thank God for wireless internet cards.) By the time I started making reservations, however, there were some problems. Go Airlines has only five flights from Honolulu to Kona on Saturdays. Every one of them, sold out.

Hawaiian Air had some openings, but not at the right time of day. I wound up with a coach seat on Aloha Airlines to Kona ($109) and a return trip on Go ($49). It wouldn't be free, but I felt like a two-day working trip to my old stomping grounds would do me good.

Then came the other problem, a rental car. Avis was the only one with any cars available. That's how it is on President's Day weekend for one of the hottest tourist destinations in the world. I was thankful for the car.

A place to stay? Everything I tried was booked, but then again, I only tried Manago Hotel and Kona Hotel. Manago was filled up, Kona Hotel's line was constantly busy. So I called my old Pupule Ohana brother Randy, who has always said that I have to stay with him and his family when I visit. He is, without any doubt in my mind, one of the finest youth coaches and referees I've ever seen. It is no surprise to me that he became a police officer, and is now in charge of the PAL program in Kona. (The fact that it was Randy who I talked with earlier, always generous to me, his crazy old friend, is even more ironic considering what happened with my nephew's basketball game on this day. That's for another column.)

He took me in. I was set. With the plane tickets and rental car, I was little poorer, yes, but happier, too.

Saturday came, and I was eager to see how Konawaena would do against Saint Louis. Game time was 3 p.m. My nephew's basketball team in the PAL league had a game at 11:15, and I help coach them.

It turned out to be one of the most ridiculous basketball experiences of my life. As a former coach, referee and league coordinator, I felt a range of emotions, but none was greater than the embarassment I felt. I have never been part of a game that was more dangerous for keiki.

Afterward, I put on a happy face for our kids. Then I remembered that I was supposed to be at the airport. With all the injury time outs, the game ended a lot later than I'd hoped. I jumped in my car and took off. It was too late to make the 12:30 p.m. flight, and boy, was the place packed. The next flight was 1:50. I thought about taking the loss and getting a stand-by on Hawaiian, which has more flights. I didn't want to be late.

I decided to stay. After the crowd filed in, I was a stand-by and got in by a hair. I was sitting there in the plane, on the phone with a friend in Kona who would pick me up and get me to Kealakehe's gym in time for the game. I took a deep breath and ... heard my own name being announced on the P.A. They wanted me off the plane.

I went back into the gate, where I saw three tourists holding tickets. I was bumped. The next Aloha flight was 3:17, which meant I wouldn't get to the game until 4:15 or 4:30. The game would be practically done by then. I thought about it at Gate 55, where the next flight was scheduled. I thought about it back at the ticket area, where the gate attendant had told me I could get a refund. (What a liar.)

I was told that the ticket is good for a year, no refunds. Whatever. And for a few minutes, I felt completely useless. Everything I was looking forward to, seeing friends who made my eight-year stay in Kona worthwhile and joyful ... it would have to wait. My tank suddenly went empty. A few people walked past me and stared. I realized I was making too big a deal about it. I went back to my car and left.

I spent the next 5 1/2 hours at Starbucks near the airport. Plugged in and calling people at the game in Kona, I kept up every 20 minutes. It was a Saint Louis rout. I hadn't missed a whole lot, after all. We got the story up on the Star-Bulletin site in breaking news. That gave me a smile, and I needed it.

But the next several hours were pretty miserable, waiting on phone calls, trying to reach different coaches. I went through an iced tea, vanilla frappucino and a hot tea. By 9:30 p.m., I'd done all I could with the story without actually having been there in Kona. And then it sunk in again. I screwed up. I wasn't there. I wasn't with my old friends.

And now, with my story done barring a last-minute return call from coaches, I had emptiness for two days. Obviously, I wasn't meant to be in Kona this weekend. No matter how much I tried, it was not meant to be, sort of like the dude in Lost who restarts his life at the point where he loses his fiance and winds up stuck on that forsaken island, able to change actions, but unable to change fate.

So many sporting events happened on Saturday, none which I could attend, like the Nissan Softball Classic and the Kalaheo girls basketball tournament. I stuck with my priorities: my nephew and my job assignment. So there's no reason to be down.

But I still feel down, and I probably will for awhile. It's OK, though. I know how much my friends in Kona mean to me, and I'll get back there sooner or later. A little sorrow is a small price to pay for great happiness later.

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