Friday, March 21, 2008
Flashback: NCAA Tournament 2002
"How about some scores?" came from the front seat as the old man I was driving suddenly woke up. Ohio in the dead of night, the Turnpike at 85 miles per hour and I was reduced to trying to find a crackling sports talk station for this guy as we raced back to Michigan. I was simply struggling to stay awake and not crash into a fiery end along I-90.
We were on our way home from Washington D.C. after a disappointing basketball game. One that cut our stay in the city short by a couple nights. What had seemed so promising became grating, annoying and disappointing. But then again, for 63 other teams each year in March - the same feelings and emotions are felt, however differently. I'm a Michigan State fan, and our quest to hit the Final Four for the fourth straight year ended quickly with a loss to some sub-standard state school that was trying to make a cinderella run.
I watched that game in the closest thing to a sports bar that I could find in downtown Washington D.C., sitting next to a bunch of office workers who were slipping out early to get soused while watching hour after hour of College Basketball. Drinking and watching this game was a bit of chance for me. I was working as an audio engineer for a radio station doing a live broadcast from the tournament. We were the voice of the Michigan State Spartans. The deal was that if we won, we got to stay in D.C. for the weekend. If we lost, we had to get back to Michigan... immediately. After our pre-pre-pre-game show was taken care of, I watched the first half from my room. The game seemed charmed. We didn't play well, but the other team couldn't find the basket to save their life. It was something like 30-14 at half time.
I found a bar and decided it was Miller Time. This was the reason I didn't take up the offer to get the ticket for the full weekend. $50 to see six basketball games is a great deal, but without beer to drink at the game (College games are dry,) what's the point? Halfway through the first beer, it was evident the tide had turned for good. The Spartans found themselves behind and dead in the water, getting outscored by 30 points in the second half, and heading home early. Which meant that my drive back home was just beginning. Washington D.C. was fun for the 14 hours I got to visit the city. Walking around the MCI Center, looking for a restaurant late at night in Chinatown.
My driving partner knew the deal. With the station manager refusing to pay for a second night in the hotel, we had to get out post haste. Yet, he hung around - all afternoon - talking and talking and talking. He gets to the room and its another hour before he's ready to go. It's 4pm, D.C. rush hour is in full gear and I just know it's going to suck.
It took three hours to get out of the D.C. area because that's how fast traffic moves there. It was nearly 10 when we stopped in Maryland for gas, just off the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I was motivated to get home, and get to bed. I blasted music to keep myself awake, as my elderly partner snored. Every half hour or so he would startle awake and demand sports scores. And I would oblige. Wearing my adrenaline out trying to find sports scores that wouldn't come on until he had passed out again to my right. So annoyed and in such a rush, I never stopped for gas again until Toledo, Ohio. Well over 400 miles. After a full tank fill-up, I realized that we got off the highway at the right moment, I had .15 gallons of gas left in the tank.
We got home at 5AM to save my manager 200 dollars. Then the other shoe dropped, the University was picking up the hotel tab all along.
We were on our way home from Washington D.C. after a disappointing basketball game. One that cut our stay in the city short by a couple nights. What had seemed so promising became grating, annoying and disappointing. But then again, for 63 other teams each year in March - the same feelings and emotions are felt, however differently. I'm a Michigan State fan, and our quest to hit the Final Four for the fourth straight year ended quickly with a loss to some sub-standard state school that was trying to make a cinderella run.
I watched that game in the closest thing to a sports bar that I could find in downtown Washington D.C., sitting next to a bunch of office workers who were slipping out early to get soused while watching hour after hour of College Basketball. Drinking and watching this game was a bit of chance for me. I was working as an audio engineer for a radio station doing a live broadcast from the tournament. We were the voice of the Michigan State Spartans. The deal was that if we won, we got to stay in D.C. for the weekend. If we lost, we had to get back to Michigan... immediately. After our pre-pre-pre-game show was taken care of, I watched the first half from my room. The game seemed charmed. We didn't play well, but the other team couldn't find the basket to save their life. It was something like 30-14 at half time.
I found a bar and decided it was Miller Time. This was the reason I didn't take up the offer to get the ticket for the full weekend. $50 to see six basketball games is a great deal, but without beer to drink at the game (College games are dry,) what's the point? Halfway through the first beer, it was evident the tide had turned for good. The Spartans found themselves behind and dead in the water, getting outscored by 30 points in the second half, and heading home early. Which meant that my drive back home was just beginning. Washington D.C. was fun for the 14 hours I got to visit the city. Walking around the MCI Center, looking for a restaurant late at night in Chinatown.
My driving partner knew the deal. With the station manager refusing to pay for a second night in the hotel, we had to get out post haste. Yet, he hung around - all afternoon - talking and talking and talking. He gets to the room and its another hour before he's ready to go. It's 4pm, D.C. rush hour is in full gear and I just know it's going to suck.
It took three hours to get out of the D.C. area because that's how fast traffic moves there. It was nearly 10 when we stopped in Maryland for gas, just off the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I was motivated to get home, and get to bed. I blasted music to keep myself awake, as my elderly partner snored. Every half hour or so he would startle awake and demand sports scores. And I would oblige. Wearing my adrenaline out trying to find sports scores that wouldn't come on until he had passed out again to my right. So annoyed and in such a rush, I never stopped for gas again until Toledo, Ohio. Well over 400 miles. After a full tank fill-up, I realized that we got off the highway at the right moment, I had .15 gallons of gas left in the tank.
We got home at 5AM to save my manager 200 dollars. Then the other shoe dropped, the University was picking up the hotel tab all along.
Labels: march madness, ncaa basketball, travel, washington dc
Roger, 1:21 AM
