False witness

The Philadelphia Phillies won their NBA Jerseys first World Series in 28 years and I was there to witness it at Citizen's Bank Ballpark.
Okay, I have to admit I'm kind of stretching the truth. I didn't really see the Phillies win the World Series last night.
While Brad Lidge was punching out Eric Hinske to cement their first championship since 1980, I was stuck in a hallway underneath the stadium. I never saw a single play from the 9th inning.
No TVs. No radio. No view of the field. We were placed up against a wall in a long narrow hallway behind home plate. I may as well have been in a parking garage in downtown Philadelphia.
I simply had no idea what was unfolding on the field.
As a result, we had to use the noise from the crowd to figure out what was happening. It was like listening to a baseball game on radio - without the play-by-play guy.
"That sounded like a called strike."

"People are too quiet. The Rays got a hit. But they're not too quiet...so it's probably a single."
"That's a two-out ovation from the crowd for sure."
Fortunately, the stadium shaking above us and the sound of exploding fireworks gave us our first real hint that the Phillies might have won the World Series.

Within 60 seconds of the Phillies winning, we were allowed onto the field and into the commotion so we could get one-on-one interviews.
The person I wanted to avoid was Brad Lidge, even though he capped off a perfect season by converting all 48 save opportunities. I had no idea how he closed out Game 5. The interview could have gone terribly wrong:
Me: "Brad, a terrific job out there. Tell us what it was like in the ninth inning?"
Lidge: "Well, I wouldn't say it was terrific. I gave up two hits and hit a batter."
Me: "Seriously?"
In order to be one of the first people on the field, I had to agree to be placed in a Major League Baseball media holding zone at the end of the 8th inning. In hindsight, it's like agreeing to stay in Guantanamo Bay while the rest of your friends are at Club Med.
Fortunately, I spotted Cole Hamels and was able to coax him into an exclusive interview. Being the Ottawa Senators beat guy doesn't open a lot of doors in the Phillies world, but Hamels was on such an adrenaline rush from winning the World Series that he agreed to the interview as if we had known each other for years.
I got to him so quickly after the game that he hadn't even been notified that he was named World Series MVP. I certainly didn't have that information to pass along to him. I was so out of the loop having emerged from my media dungeon that I would have believed it if someone told me the Phillie Phanatic had been named World Series MVP.

After getting another one-on-one interview with Matt Stairs (which I believe was mandated by the CRTC in order to broadcast the World Series in Canada), I headed over to the third base line to be a live guest with Sean McCormick and Martine Gaillard on the late edition of Connected.
As I was setting up for the interview, I saw an object being thrown right at me from the stands. It's amazing how quickly your brain processes information.
"I'm in Philadelphia and someone is throwing an object at me. It's probably a battery."
I ducked my head out of the way at the last second and avoided being hit with...a piece of bread.
(Fortunately it was a fresh hot dog roll that came my way. If it was a day-old bun, it could have done some serious damage.)
I composed myself from the near-death-by-bun experience to conduct the Q & A with Sean and Martine. At this point, I was freezing cold from being outside in sub-zero temperatures for more than an hour. I was 15 minutes away from developing that Tom Coughlin Face from the NFC Championship Game in Green Bay.
I needed to find someplace warm. I was actually hoping some cars would be set on fire outside to warm things up.
And oh yeah - for the record, I finally witnessed the final out of the World Series on ESPN at 1:07am in my hotel room.
As we headed out of the parking lot after our work was finished, we pretended to be Phillies fans so that we wouldn't get harrassed by the mobs of people running the streets. Occasionally yelling "We finally did it!" or "Utley is a God!" saved us from facing the wrath of the drunken fans. We honked our car horns and just tried to fit in as best as we could as we made it back to our hotel. The mob will never swallow you up if they think you are one of them. (Please shoot me if I ever have to cover a Leafs Stanley Cup victory.)