The Ride I’ll Never Forget

Back in my cab-driving days at the Orlando Airport, a young teenager hopped in—talking a mile a minute, fidgeting like he’d just downed a pot of coffee. He wanted to go to the Citrus Bowl. Now, if you know Orlando, you know the Citrus Bowl wasn’t in the best neighborhood back then. I’m thinking, What’s this kid doing going over there? In the cab business, you learn to trust your gut. Mine was saying, Keep one hand on the door handle in case he makes a run for it.

As we drove, he starts chatting—said his brother was the quarterback playing in the Citrus Bowl that day. Now, me being from the Bronx, I didn’t follow college football. NFL, sure. But college? Not my thing. So I just nodded, thinking, Sure, kid. And I’m supposed to know your brother, too. When we got there, I braced for a runner. Then suddenly—bam! Men in suits surrounded the cab like the Secret Service. They opened the door, paid the fare, and the kid even tipped me! 

Life rolled on. I forgot all about that ride—until many years later.

I’m sitting on the couch watching one of the greatest Super Bowls I’ve ever seen—Giants vs. Patriots. The Giants mount the comeback of the century, and when the young quarterback hoists the MVP trophy, I freeze. That spark. That fidgety energy. Then, in the post-game interview, he mentions his brother Peyton—and it hits me. I turned to my wife and said, “That’s him! That’s the kid I drove to the Citrus Bowl!” I jumped up, ran to the computer, looked up when Peyton played in the Citrus Bowl—and sure enough, it lined up exactly with when I was working that day. The kid in my cab all those years ago was none other than Eli Manning. 

And one day, I hope I run into Eli again. I’m sure he’ll remember—because how many rides could he have ever taken from the Orlando Airport to the Citrus Bowl? Probably just one. And I was it. Funny thing is, this wasn’t even my first one-in-a-million encounter. Years earlier, I’d met Bill Murray in Manhattan—we joked about sharing the same name. Twenty years later, I picked him up again in Orlando, and he remembered me! So when I tell folks about that fidgety teenager who grew up to be a Super Bowl MVP, I just smile and say, “Hey, it’s another Bill Murray moment.”

You never know who’s stepping into your cab—or

what story God’s writing behind the scenes.