Snapshots of the '99 Canadian Imo Team

I'm sitting at a table in a Frankfurt airport waiting room, playing bridge with three high school students. Slung about my waist is a fanny pack stu ed with passports and plane tickets for eight. A cacophony of Greek buzzes about us, as tired travellers wait to board the plane to Athens. Among them is our contingent, easily distinguishedby our bright red golf shirts emblazoned with red maple leaves. We are exhausted after our ight from Toronto, and a little envious of the travellers who are boarding. This is our gate, but it isn't our ight. Ours is the next plane, bound for Bucharest, Romania.