Solar vice president for production Erick Tam, broadcaster Vitto Lazatin and I woke up to a bright, blue sky in Miami and never expected the harrowing experience that lay ahead.
Our flight to Dallas was scheduled at 4 p.m. We all agreed to meet at the hotel lobby by 1:30 p.m. with our bags packed and ready to go. We had a good rest that morning after a long night. We were refreshed, coming from an exhausting coverage of Game 5 which finished close to midnight.
Checking in at the Northwest Airlines counter was a breeze. We punched our electronic ticket codes on computers and our boarding passes came out of a slot like cash from an ATM. Then, we brought our luggage to a security attendant who took care of sending our bags off to the plane.
Erick and Vitto had no difficulty going through the security checks. But I was the unlucky one. I was singled out for a random test, what someone called "special treatment." That was the beginning of a day of reversals.
While other passengers were asked to place their belongings on grey plastic bins, I was told to use the red plastic bins.
A security officer brought me to an enclosed four-sided, glass room that looked like a cell or a standing MRI chamber. I was warned to expect a gust of air from blowers. The process took just a few minutes. I was told the air would be able to detect any kind of dangerous substance or power or whatever on the body.
From the chamber, I was instructed to sit while two security officers went through my hand-carried bags. My laptop was scrutinized from top to bottom and dusted. My backpack was opened and its contents were spread on a table. Books, research material and paraphernalia from the NBA were carefully inspected. Fortunately, my underwear was packed in another bag.
Erick and Vitto were kind enough to wait for me while the security officers did their job on me. Finally, I was declared clean and free to go. The whole exercise set us back about 30 minutes.
We still had time to grab some food before boarding our plane. Erick and Vitto ate burgers. I gorged on a pepperoni pizza. The two-hour flight to Memphis was particularly comfortable as we were all upgraded to first class, much to our surprise. The Northwest attendant gave us a treat after she found out we were from the Philippines doing a live satellite telecast of the NBA Finals.
We had a three-hour layover at the Danny Thomas Terminal in Memphis. There were music-themed stores all around. I almost bought a juke box alarm clock in one of the shops until I realized the sound of the music excerpts from six songs (including Bill Haley’s "Rock Around the Clock" and Roy Orbison’s "Oh, Pretty Woman?") was muffled.
The flight from Memphis to Dallas was scheduled at 8 p.m. At about 7, we were informed that the departure would be delayed two hours because the plane taking us to Dallas couldn’t fly out on time from Washington, D.C.,–its point of origin–due to poor visibility.
Before we knew it, the stores and restaurants at the terminal began to close. A terminal attendant said we could grab a bite to eat outside the security counter. Realizing we wouldn’t be fed in the plane, we scouted the three eateries still open. I wound up eating a sandwich at Backyard Burgers. Erick and Vitto had roast beef sandwiches from Arbys.
At 9 p.m., we headed over to the security counter to reenter the boarding gates. Alas, the counter was closed. A security officer said the X-ray machine was shut down a few minutes ago and couldn’t be reopened because calibration would take at least 45 minutes. He castigated us for showing up late. We tried to explain our side but he brushed us off. Nobody told us the security counter would close.
We were shocked out of our senses. We were in fact being told we wouldn’t be able to catch our flight. We would be stranded in Memphis and we wouldn’t even know if we could catch another flight to Dallas in time to cover Game 6.
We braced ourselves for the nightmare that we prayed wouldn’t happen.
Suddenly, the security officer had a change of heart. Like our prayers were answered. He called on his cellphone and asked for two officers to assist him in reopening the X-ray machine.
While we waited and mumbled prayers, two more passengers came and asked if they, too, could walk through. Like us, they didn’t hear the announcement on the public address system that the security counter would close by 9. The X-ray machine was reopened and we were all cleared to go.
We thanked the security officer–his name plate read John–and ran to Gate B-37 to catch our flight. We got to our gate at about 9:45 p..m. and the plane from Washington, D. C., had just touched down. At 11:30 p.m., we were safely at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport.
The taxi ride to our hotel took about 30 minutes. By 1 a.m., we were settled in our rooms.
But our problems weren’t finished. When we checked in, my credit card was declined for some reason. And to think that I hadn’t even used my credit card on this trip.
I was still on the phone to Manila at 4 a.m., Dallas time, trying to solve the credit card problem.
It will be late tonight (Wednesday morning, Manila) when Miami plays Dallas in Game 6 of the Finals. By then, I hope our worries will be over.