[Original went to NCJ and is no longer accessible. This from an early draft IIRC.]
It was around May 10 when my friend and fellow NCCC member Bob Wolbert, K6XX called. His first question was "Are you sitting down?" "Uh, sure, Bob," I said. "What's up?" Then he asked "Do you want to go to WRTC?" I didn't get it. "Uh, no, not really. I mean, it would be a fun trip but I'm swamped with travel and other obligations these days. Besides, I'd kind of like to operate my home station in the IARU this year. And isn't it late to be making travel arrangements on crowded flights to Russia?"
"No," he said. "You don't understand. Do you want to go to WRTC AS A COMPETITOR?" Uh, oh! I was starting to understand his first question but this last one still didn't make sense. What gave Bob the right to offer me an entry into WRTC, especially at this late date? I hadn't even tried to qualify over the past three years. Bob had just missed qualifying himself and wasn't on the organizing committee. "How could that work?" I asked. So Bob explained that Mitch, K7RL, had had to withdraw for personal reasons, Bob was now a Team Captain and he wanted ME to join him as his Teammate! It's a good thing I WAS sitting down! This was a Big Question indeed.
Now, I've been a contester for nearly 50 years. It's my favorite aspect of amateur radio and I'm pretty good at it. But I've never had the time or motivation, let alone the skill, to compete in the top tier of international radiosport. Second tier? Sure. But only about 50 teams of two get to compete in WRTC each time it comes around, roughly every four years, just like the Olympics. Heck, many hams consider it to BE the "Olympics of Radio Contesting." So me? A WRTC competitor?! In the words of fellow Californian, the late Charles Shulz, "Good grief, Charlie Brown!"
I really was delighted to learn that Bob would be a Team Captain, representing the USA at WRTC. He had accumulated more qualifying points than any other aspirant in the Western US region, losing to K7RL and N6MJ by virtue of their respective eight best scores. He was a worthy competitor and I wanted him to do as well as possible at WRTC. "C'mon Bob," I whined, "you've got to be kidding. There are many prospects, many of them our friends in NCCC, who can outscore me. Choose one of them!" But he persisted, explaining that in the preparation for the event, and in the close confines of a WRTC shack, teamwork is as important as raw operating ability. He was convinced that the two of us could cooperate very well and turn in a competitive performance. (He wouldn't tell me how many stronger prospects had already had to decline because of business or family commitments. "Plenty," I thought.)
He told me this was an offer I couldn't refuse and gave me 24 hours to decide. Well, maybe 48. But if I was going to decline, he had precious little time to find someone else before the May 12 registration deadline. So I did some research: I would have to miss a few meetings, but nothing truly critical. Flights were still available. I could get a visa in time. But no, my wife wouldn't come along. She has a ham license but absolutely no interest in contesting. If I went, she said, she would pack up our son and pregnant daughter-in-law and ship off to Hawaii for a "real vacation." That did not make it any easier! But how could I say "No?" This was clearly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I agonized for about 49 hours, called Bob back and said "Beam me up, Scotty." Then life got busy.