Here’s what happened.
The day after the San Antonio Spurs beat the New Jersey Nets in Game 5 at the Continental Airlines Arena, we–producer Erick Tam, Chino Trinidad and myself–got ready to leave on the 6:50 p.m. Northwest flight out of the Newark airport.
Game 6 was scheduled in San Antonio on June 15, Sunday, so we had all of Saturday to make the trip back to Texas. Games 1 and 2 were held in San Antonio. Games 3, 4, and 5 were in New Jersey under the Finals format of 2-3-2.
Unfortunately, the weather was uncooperative last Saturday. Thunderstorms delayed flights coming into and leaving Newark.
We got to the airport at 5 p.m., a two-hour lead time to anticipate the rigid security checks. We knew we’d have to take our laptops out of their cases for inspection. We knew we’d have to take off our Nikes so the inspectors could run a gunpowder test on the soles. We knew we’d have to remove our jackets and anything metallic out of pockets before getting frisked. We got used to all that. We didn’t really mind. It was, after all, for our own safety.
As we checked in at the counter, we were told the bad news. Because of the thunderstorms, our flight to San Antonio via Memphis would be delayed by at least 30 minutes. That meant we wouldn’t be able to catch our connecting flight from Memphis to San Antonio at 9:45 p.m. Even if we managed to board the plane, our bags would be left behind.
We were then given the option of either staying the night in Newark or flying to Memphis anyway on a later flight with the hope of catching the first plane out to San Antonio the next morning.
A long queue formed as stranded passengers lined up to rebook their tickets at the counter. We were last in line after about 20 passengers. And because each passenger had a separate itinerary, it took forever to rearrange their tickets. We waited in line for over an hour until a Northwest staffer advised us to take the 8:30 p.m. flight to Memphis and from there, fix our tickets.
Not knowing what lay ahead, we hopped onto the plane for Memphis. It was a leap of faith.
We arrived in Elvis Presley’s hometown at about 11 p.m. Our bags were checked through to San Antonio so we had only our hand-carry stuff with us. We went straight to the Northwest counter, not knowing our fate–where we would stay that night, how we would get to San Antonio for Game 6.
Two sympathetic Northwest ladies behind the counter attended to us. We said we were Filipino broadcasters and we had to be in San Antonio for Game 6 which was scheduled to tip off at 7:30 p.m. Barbara Allen and Katja Husta understood our predicament. They checked what was available on their computer monitors.
One option was a flight out of Memphis to San Antonio in the afternoon. That was scratched because we would arrive after the game. Another option was taking an 8:30 a.m. flight to Austin and driving an hour to San Antonio. Chino volunteered to drive but Erick and I said we’d probably get lost on the way.
Finally, Barbara and Katja hit paydirt. There was room for three lost souls on the 1 p.m. Northwest flight to San Antonio, arriving at 2:45 p.m. Perfect. But what about our bags? They said the bags would be forwarded to San Antonio. Not to worry, they assured Erick whose TV camera was in a special metal case as a checked-in piece.
For the night, Northwest billeted us in separate rooms at the Ramada Inn. We were provided five-minute domestic US phone cards, extra mileage points, free transfers, and meal coupons.
We checked in at the Ramada about 12:30 past midnight. The hotel driver Frank, a Senegalese, drove us to the only restaurant open that time accepting Northwest coupons–Marlowe’s whose specialty was ribs. Frank drove us to Marlowe’s, about 15 miles from the hotel, and we saw Elvis’ Graceland mansion along the way. It was an unexpected tour of Memphis.
We gorged on ribs, chicken, and barbecue pizza then someone from the restaurant took us back to the hotel as a free service for three weary travelers. We got back to the hotel at 2:30 a.m. The problem was we had no change of clothes. The hotel didn’t provide toiletries so we couldn’t brush our teeth. I slept in my birthday suit. I imagine Erick and Chino did, too. Lucky we didn’t share rooms.
We made the 1 p.m. flight to San Antonio and got in shortly before 3. We picked up our luggage which was stored in the Northwest check-in counter then hailed a taxi to bring us to the Omni Hotel where the NBA reserved rooms for the international media. We got to the Omni at 4 p.m. just as the first bus was picking up media members for the ride to the SBC Center.
The Chinese broadcasters who took the first bus couldn’t believe their eyes. They were in coats, ready for the broadcast, and we were just checking in at the hotel, looking haggard, wearing crumpled clothes, unshaved, and unkempt.
In 45 minutes, we bathed, shaved, dressed up, reviewed our game notes, and rehearsed our introduction which would be shot for satellite transmission. We took the 5:30 p.m. bus to the SBC Center and when we arrived, we were greeted by cheering NBA officials and other broadcasters who found out about our ordeal.
It was a close call but we made it for Game 6–barely.
Postscript. Don’t fail to watch the heavyweight title fight between world champion Lennox Lewis and challenger Vitali Klitschko of Kazakhstan live at 10 a.m. on RPN-9 and on Solar Sports cable Channel 29 this Sunday. The replay is set June 23 at 7 p.m. on IBC-13.