Another Magic Carpet Ride

A couple of the producers who work on Magic TV broadcasts -- friends of mine since the intern days -- suggested that this would make a good blog entry. We'll see about that.

Television's Paul Kennedy, who doubles up as the pregame/sideline host for the Magic and the Lightning all year, was off to follow the Bolts as they started the Stanley Cup playoffs last week, so I was pressed into last-minute hosting duties for Saturday's Magic road game in Philadelphia on Sun Sports. Problem was, the short notice compelled me to fly up-and-back in one day -- I had a prior commitment on Friday night. So the plan was to fly commercially on Saturday morning, then hitch a ride on the Magic team plane to come home. Thus began my 17-hour odyssey into the belly of the NBA playoff chase.

5:55am: Wake up five minutes before the alarm goes off, as is my habit. Blessing and a curse, that. Shower, get partially dressed (dress pants, shiny shoes, and casual shirt), grab my pre-organized hanging bag with jacket, shirt, and tie, shoulder my briefcase, and tiptoe out the door. No luggage for this trip, but I do have a toothbrush. You just never know.

6:30am: Arrive at Orlando International Airport. No traffic on the way in, but the security lines are packed, as always. Anyone who flies in and out of Orlando on a regular basis can understand. I see a friend of mine, John, in one of the other lines. He says he's going to California. I'm envious.

8:10am: The US Airways nonstop to Philadelphia goes wheels-up, only 20 minutes behind schedule. The flight is packed -- again, this is Orlando, every flight is packed -- and I'm in an aisle seat next to a young mother with a two-year-old daughter in arms. Mom is terribly concerned about the youngster potentially bothering me during the flight. I guess I'm giving off the vibe of a testy business traveler, which, I suppose, is what I am. To assuage her, I ask about her little girl, and assure her that it's no bother at all. I've got fresh copies of Golf Digest and ESPN Magazine, and the kid is already snoozing hard. We'll survive.

10:20am: During the final approach to Philadelphia, the mom leans over to the woman by the window -- her mother, as best I can tell -- and says, "That's Poppy's work." Poppy is apparently the guy seated across the aisle from me, the father of this little angel who has been totally sacked out for the entire flight. Poppy, I should mention, has several tattoos on his arm and looks like he could bend steel with his bare hands. Out the window, I see that we're flying over one of the many shipyards along the river in Philly, and I therefore deduce that Poppy is a dockworker. Further, I have concluded that the whole group is returning home to Philly from a family vacation to Disney World -- they never told me this, but as an Orlando native, I've seen the look a million times. They're all happy and exhausted. The two-year-old has barely stirred during the 2-hour-plus trip. This kid can fly with me anytime.

10:35am: I hail a cab outside the Philadelphia International Airport.

"I'm heading to the Wachovia Center," I say.

Blank stare.

"The arena where the Sixers play?" I offer.

Recognition. "Okay, no problem," he says. His name is Willie, and he is unfailingly polite. This IS the town where they once booed Santa Claus, right? As it turns out, Willie not only knows where the Wachovia Center is, he also knows where the TV trucks park, and he drops me off about 30 feet from the door. Willie gets a generous tip. So far, this is a layup.

11am: Enter the production truck. Tye Eastham and Kevin Patterson -- my guys from intern days, long ensconced as producers for Magic basketball -- are already in high gear. When the Magic go on the road, there are only a handful of Orlando-based TV crew members who travel with them. A couple of producers, one director, and the "talent" -- David Steele, Matt Guokas, and Paul Kennedy (or, in this case, me). Everyone else who works on the broadcast is a freelancer, hired from the local pool by a crewer at Sun Sports. Tye and KP are busy coaching up the Philly crew members, who know nothing of the Magic and don't really care. It's a tough gig all the way around. My job is to keep quiet and stay the hell out of their way until I'm needed.

1pm: I'm needed. The "first bus" has arrived from the Four Seasons hotel in downtown Philly. The first bus usually includes the coaching staff and some of the veteran players, including guys like Keyon Dooling and Tony Battie, both of whom have been scheduled for short interviews for use in our pregame show. Having changed into my shirt and tie, I grab Dooling and Battie for comments about the playoff chase. Orlando can knock Philly out of the playoffs by winning today. Keyon and Tony give excellent pat answers to my predictable questions. This is a routine for them as much as it is for me. There's something oddly comfortable about this routine, even though I'm not the guy they usually see on the road. They know I'm 'Sun Sports,' and they do their job while I'm doing mine.

1:30pm: I interview Brian Hill for a segment in the pregame show. He's as relaxed as a head coach can be with a playoff berth on the line. As soon as we're finished, he chats with St. Joseph's head coach Phil Martelli, who is there to see his former player, Jameer Nelson. I overhear Brian telling Martelli that Philadelphia's best post player is their point guard, Andre Miller, who is "sneaky big." Several hours later, the Sixers will win the opening tip, and their first offensive set will get the ball to Miller in the post against Nelson. Not only did I hear this directly from the Magic's head coach, but Matt Guokas also correctly predicted it during the pregame show. This ain't our first rodeo, folks.

2pm: Having taped all the segments I will need for the pregame show, I snarf down a free lunch in the media room at the Wachovia Center. Brian Schmitz, the beat writer from the Orlando Sentinel, is already formatting his game story. He's concerned about getting out of Philly on time that night -- there's a storm brewing. Have I mentioned that I am flying out on the team plane?

2:30pm: I start the live pregame show. The building is quiet. The Sixers are second to last in home attendance this season. It's a funeral home. This is an elimination game for Philadelphia, and nobody seems to care. However, if I were to walk 200 yards out the back door of this arena, I could stand on a single corner, pivot 360 degrees, and see the Wachovia Center, the original Spectrum, the Phillies' glorious Citizens Bank ballpark, and the Eagles' triumphant Lincoln Financial Field all within a few steps of each other in one complex. Philly, no matter what you think of it, is a kick-ass sports town. The few moments I spent surveying this fabulous arrangement of facilities near the shipyards makes me wonder about Orlando's petty battles over a new arena and Citrus Bowl. I've said it many times -- I'd love to put Mike Thomas, Scott Maxwell, Mayors Crotty and Dyer, and every taxpaying citizen of Orlando on a plane and bring them to a place like this, or downtown Indianapolis, or Phoenix, or any other major league city with a vibrant sports/entertainment complex. This is how it's supposed to be. Sadly, given the attendance, the Sixers appear to be the red-haired stepchild of the moment.

3pm: And they're playing like it, too. Andre Iguodala is giving it a go with his sore back, Kyle Korver is coming off the bench with a bad wrist, and head coach Mo Cheeks looks like a man without a country. Steven Hunter is in the starting lineup, for Heaven's sake. Still, this is a trap game for the Magic, who have demonstrated a propensity for playing down to the level of their competition. Plus, the Sixers are desperate, if somewhat shorthanded. I'm a little nervous about this one.

3:30pm: What was I worried about? The Magic come out on fire, stepping on Philly's throat and not letting up. Dwight Howard is a man possessed. The Magic feed him on every trip down the floor, and he's dunking on every white shirt he can see. It's brilliant. I'm sitting along the Magic's baseline, in between Sixers sideline reporter Dei Lynam and a Philly PR staffer, and they're doing all they can do to stifle their disgust. Howard has 18 points in the first quarter, and there's not a damn thing that anyone can do about it. This is fun to watch. He's 21 years old, people. Twenty-freaking-one.



Wow.

4:20pm: With the Magic up 61-48, I host the halftime report. We have videotape of Dwight Howard taking batting practice with Ryan Howard and the Phillies on Friday night. As a hitter, Dwight is a very good basketball player.

5:30pm: Orlando has led by as much as 15, but as I sort of predicted, the Sixers are staging a comeback in the fourth quarter, led by Korver, whose sprained wrist has mysteriously recovered enough to allow him 4-6 three-point shooting. This dude is dangerous. Brian Hill calls timeout at one point to get in Dooling's face and instruct him, in no uncertain terms, to glue himself to Korver's shorts. Korver doesn't make another basket all night. Dwight finishes with 35 points, a new career high. Magic win, 104-87. The Sixers' playoff hopes are dashed. Conversation in the production truck immediately turns to Sunday's home game against the Celtics -- if Orlando wins and the Pacers lose to the Nets, the Magic will clinch a playoff berth within the next 24 hours. Which, as it turns out, is exactly what happens.

7pm: Having packed up and handed out our goodbyes and thank-yous to the Philadelphia crew, the TV guys climb onto the "second bus" for the five-mile ride to the airport. The Magic team plane sits alone in an uncrowded corner of the tarmac, gassed up and ready to go. We make our way to the rear compartment and settle in. Dinner tonight is a choice between shrimp scampi or beef lasagna. Also, the crew has secured a few platters full of authentic Philly cheesesteaks, which the players devour. We in the back get the leftovers. There's no better way to travel.

The "Media Lounge" -- me, Tye, KP, radio play-by-play announcer Dennis Neumann, Spanish radio voice Joey Colon, David Steele, Matt Guokas, and director Tom Smith -- spends much of the flight dissecting the upcoming NBA draft. Oden and Durant are our consensus top two, but opinions differ after that. I still think Al Horford could go number three, but KP wonders if Corey Brewer might end up being the best Gator junior of them all. Dennis is curious about the Chevy Florida Fishing Report, which Joey claims to watch every week. We also share a chuckle at Paul Kennedy's expense -- Paul had planned an elaborate segment for our pregame show that day, highlighting the 40th anniversary of Matty's entry into the NBA as a Sixers rookie in 1967. Naturally, when the day finally came, Paul was off with the Lightning, leaving me to handle it with Matt, who doesn't exactly love talking about himself. Fortunately, Matty is a pro. They're all pros. And this is how professionals kill two and a half hours on a team charter from Philadelphia to Orlando.



Matt hates this.

9:30pm: Touchdown in Orlando. The team plane taxis directly into the Magic Carpet Aviation hangar on the west side of the airport, where the players have parked their cars under cover. A couple of Magic staffers need a jump-start -- this was a six-day trip. Another game tomorrow.

On Sunday, despite a monumental collapse in the 4th quarter, the Magic would indeed hold on to beat the Celtics, securing themselves a playoff berth for the first time in four years. On Wednesday, I'll be in for Paul once again, hosting the regular season finale at home against the Heat. Then comes the postseason.

See you on TV. Maybe from Detroit.