WASHINGTON (May 14) — I can honestly tell you that Sidney Crosby had a much better Wednesday this week than yours truly. In fact, it wasn’t even close. Crosby cemented his title as the best hockey player in the world by overwhelming his arch rival, Alexander Ovechkin, in an anticlimactic finish to one of the most memorable series in recent Stanley Cup play. Sid The Kid scored twice and set-up linemate Bill Guerin with a dagger goal early in the third period, as the Pittsburgh Penguins silenced the tumultuous Verizon Center in a 6-2 Game 7 obliteration of the Washington Capitals.
I was just thankful to be there.
If you travel as much as me, an event like the one I endured on Wednesday is probably unavoidable. But, this one had a few extra elements. It began at Raleigh-Durham International Airport in mid-morning, as I had an 11:25 a.m. departure up to Ronald Reagan National Airport outside Washington. I covered Game 6 of the Carolina-Boston series Tuesday night at the RBC Center, and wasn’t graced with much leeway in getting here for the deciding tilt between the Caps and Pens. But, few airline journeys are more routine than the 45-minute up-and-down trip between North Carolina and D.C. — it’s a jaunt I’ve made on numerous occasions while following the Maple Leafs, and in the playoffs. That routine, however, went out the window on Wednesday.
First, there was an “indefinite” delay at the gate because of a mechanical issue with the aircraft that turned out to be a hydraulic-fuel leak. As the USAirways maintenance staff dealt with the problem, every confirmed passenger except myself and another gentleman scrambled to find alternate travel — either flights on rival airlines, or connections through other cities. Given there were more crew members left than passengers, I was astonished that our flight was confirmed to go roughly two hours after the delay began. But, the other man and myself simply shrugged, and we boarded the 50-seat Canadair Regional Jet, outnumbered by two pilots and a flight attendant. The young stewardess mentioned something a bit ominous as we were backing out of the gate — saying the pilots were "hoping” the hydraulic leak didn’t recur during flight. You can imagine how comforting THAT was.
We had a choppy but uneventful climb out of Raleigh and the captain said we’d be in the air for 42 minutes. On a flight of that duration, the initial descent usually begins around the 25-minute mark, as planes don’t get much more than 20,000 feet off the ground. In this case, the pilot began an abrupt descent less than 20 minutes after take-off, which I found rather strange, but passed off as perhaps the result of making up time with such a light load. Once he raised the spoilers on the wings and essentially began to dive-bomb towards the ground, I realized we were nowhere near Washington. That’s when the stewardess informed both of us that we were diverting to Richmond, Virginia because the hydraulic fuel had begun to gush out of its compartment once again. I don’t mind telling you my finger-prints are likely imbedded in the seat handles of Row 3 on that aircraft. The pilot got the plane down very quickly, and taxied to the gate.
When he opened the cockpit door, he came out and apologized to his two passengers, but said he was “within two minutes” of decaring an all-out emergency. That’s why he made like a Kamakaze towards the runway in Richmond.
It was roughly 2:40 in the afternoon, and I had just more than 4 1/2 hours to get to Washington for the hockey game. I was told that USAirways had no more flights up to Reagan Airport, but there was a connection through Charlotte that would get me into the capitol around 6 p.m. — if everything was on time. That’s when I made a bee-line for the Avis Car Rental counter. Informing the woman agent of my plight — that I needed a one-way rental out of Richmond I would drop at Reagan — she offered me only one choice: A 12-seater van. Beggars cannot be choosers, so I said I’d take whatever had an engine and four wheels, and off I went to the vehichle. This monstrosity was roughly the size of a TTC bus, or so it seemed. I lumbered out of Richmond Airport and onto Interstate-295 North toward I-95 North and Washington.
That’s when the day began to turn. Though I fully expected a massive back-log of traffic at the end of my two-hour journey — it would get me into the U.S. capitol in the teeth of the late-afternoon rush — only the southbound lanes of I-95 were jammed, as thousands of workers poured out of Washington for their homes in neighboring Virginia. I was able to motor unimpeded into Arlington, Va., past the Pentagon, and over to Reagan Airport — where I dropped the humungous van at Avis around 5:25 p.m. I took a shuttle bus to Terminal A where, magically, a van belonging to my hotel in Crystal City immediately pulled up to the curb. I was in my room before 5:45.
A quick shower and change of clothes had me in a taxi for the Verizon Center by 6:15. Once inside the arena, the house lights went up, and Crosby took over.
For me, it’s now up to Boston later this morning on another USAirways flight for Game 7 of the Hurricanes and Bruins.
And, I’ll scream if I hear another word about hydraulics.
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