Planes, Trains, And Baseball: 24 Hours Of Playoff Madness

Some people tense up a little when a plane first touches down on a runway. Others don't pay much attention to the wheels hitting the concrete at 155 MPH.

One person was frantically powering up his cell phone to get a baseball score before the nose gear had even come back down to Earth on Wednesday night.

I've had a lot of business travel over the last year, but this was the first time it prevented me from sports of any kind. Throw in my wife still recovering from a bad cold and this was a trip I really wanted to cancel.

The Phillies were trying to clinch their first pennant in 15 years and there I was, landing in all places-Dallas, Texas.

The plane was still moving off the runway as my brother's first text came in:

"J-Roll, lead-off HR!!"

Since I had the last 5 rows of the plane to myself, I started cheering modestly enough, until the game alert arrived next.

“5-1 Phillies. Top of the 7th inning.”

Get me to a TV, now!

Dallas-Fort Worth is an airport I know well enough to navigate. The dilemma was whether I should finish the game at the airport bar or get to the hotel in time to watch the last inning.

I found the bar and watched one out of the 7th inning. That was enough. I couldn't watch this game at a Dallas Cowboys bar at the airport.

So, I kept the game cast on the phone and took the 10-minute shuttle ride to the rental car center. Ignoring all other travelers, I let out a yell and claps from the back of the shuttle when Hamels retired his last batter on a called strike three.

Top of the 8th, about 20 minutes from a television, I didn't know if I'd make it.

Now I hate people who feel like they have to do 4 different things at once when they're behind the wheel of a car. Well, driving to the hotel, I was a big hypocrite and I did not care.

One phone with the game cast. One phone with the navigator speaking directions to the hotel. And me driving with one hand, holding a cigarette as I scan the radio stations praying to find the game.

I pulled into the hotel parking lot as the top of the 9th finishes.

I see a TV on in the lobby as I check in at the front desk. After I get my room key, I hustle over to watch.

Bloop single.

I need to be alone for this.  Not surrounded by strangers who wouldn't understand the situation.

But the room is on the 3rd floor, and I just got in front of a TV.

Finally, my left-brain chimes in: "Run, you idiot"

Easier said than done with a laptop bag and a wheel bag, but there I was, running down the hallway at 10:15 at night, bags over both shoulders, key in hand, searching for my room, praying I wouldn't miss anything.

Two pitches, that's it.

Finally sitting down, I got to watch and celebrate history in my own way. And I guess the rooms around me were empty, since no one knocked on the door to tell me to keep it down.

So it may not have been the ideal location, but the result made up for it all.

Good thing, because I still had to spend the next day in Dallas.