12/30/2010

Editor's note:

Journal sports reporter Arne Green left the Kansas City airport Monday with the idea that he'd make his connecting flight at the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, and then it'd be on to New York City and coverage of this afternoon's Kansas State v. Syracuse game in the Pinstripe Bowl.

The snow storms that rocked the upper part of the U.S. grounded Arne and thousands of others as flights were canceled or postponed.

My first two days at Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, aka Camp Standby:

MONDAY - Day 1

• 6 a.m. -- I arrive at KCI, flight to Minneapolis on time.

• 6:50 a.m. Takeoff is 10 minutes late.

• 8 a.m. -- We touch down 15 minutes early at Minneapolis/St. Paul airport (MSP), greeted by a message on the departure board that the 10 a.m. connecting flight to Newark is canceled. I ask the nearest employee where to go and he asks incredulously, "They sent you here?"

• 8:30 -- I head to the Delta "Help Desk" -- their words, not mine -- and am told that earliest confirmed flight to Newark is Thursday at 7 a.m. -- Pinstripe Bowl game day. I reluctantly accept it, determined to find a standby earlier. I get on a list for the 1 p.m. flight, which soon has been pushed back to 3:30.

• Late morning -- I give a Journal editor the lowdown, try calling home, talk to my New Jersey friends/hosts who were going to pick me up at airport and was told they've had 24 inches of snow, though it's sunny now but still incredibly windy. Their teenage sons were working in shifts to clear the driveway.

I also fill in my friend/host for rest of my New York stay. He's a Syracuse grad, by the way, so I think secretly he's relieved that I won't be rifling through his drawers and trash trying to find Orange info that I might pass on to K-State.

The airport burrito

• 11:50 a.m. -- Lunch at 360 Burrito in terminal. Thai chicken burrito the first and only enjoyable airport experience of the day.

• 1 p.m. -- Start transcribing notes for a K-State story gleaned from Dec. 3 and 15 interviews in Manhattan.

• 2:30 p.m. -- I take a quick break from Twitter -- K-State beat writers exchanging travel war stories, all from different locations. It would be much more amusing if I weren't living the nightmare -- and learning from the departure board that the scheduled 1 p.m. and the 7 p.m. flights to Newark have been canceled.

Back at the 'help' desk

• 2:45 -- I trudge back to the "help" desk where overwhelmed agents keep pushing the nearby "black phones" with the mantra, "They can do the exact same thing, often better."

I am told by a fellow stander-by that no, the black phones are a black hole where people on the other end say they can't get us on standby list for Tuesday, that we have to see an agent. So I hang in, bravely.

• 3:15 or 3:30 -- I reach an agent who indeed gives me a card that says I'm on standby for 7 the next morning. I also obtain a blue hotel discount voucher with an 800 number to call.

• 4 p.m. - I choose Courtyard by Marriott, the cheapest option, boss, I swear. I check in and eventually get to work on a story about how K-State players are not satisfied just to be in a bowl game but are determined to win it as well. Opt for Manhattan (Kansas) dateline on story, even though it's filed from Minneapolis and bowl origin is New York. Not my last dateline quandary.

• 7 p.m. - Head to Outback Steak House next door for a somewhat leisurely dinner. Two thumbs up.

• 8 p.m. - Start organizing for a 4 a.m. wake-up, watch a little TV and drift off to sleep.

TUESDAY - Day 2

• 4 a.m. -- Alarm goes off, get all my stuff -- well almost all of it-- packed up and reach lobby in time for 5 a.m. airport shuttle.

• 5:15 a.m. -- Arrive at airport and look for someone, anyone, to point me in the right direction but am rebuffed, dismissed by waves of hands and scowled at by various people, apparently because they're too busy smiling at and helping their first class/preferred customers.

The automated check-in machine is confused by my itinerary and sends me to human check-in folks. The woman who helps me gets a confused look and is told just to give me a voucher that allows me to go through security check into gate area.

• 6 a.m. -- I finally clear security and head for the farthest reaches of concourse C to find the 7 a.m. flight. They show order of standby on a screen, and I don't spot my name. After the flight leaves, closer to 8 by now, I eventually get a ticket agent at the gate to explain that a clerical error had left me off the list altogether for the flight I jumped through hoops to reach. She looked exasperated by her colleague's error and put me on a 10 a.m. standby list.

My name on the board

• 8:30 a.m. -- I go to 10 a.m. flight gate and see my name on the screen! In the No. 29 position. On a flight that's already overbooked by 10.

• 8:34 a.m. -- I find an electrical outlet. MSP has more than most airports I've been to. Unfortunately, a search of my computer bag reveals that my power cord is missing. I call the hotel, and sure enough they find it still in my vacated room.

• 9 a.m. -- Since the numbers indicate that I have no shot at the 10 a.m. flight, I change my standby to 1 p.m. -- you're only allowed on one standby list at a time -- catch a shuttle to the hotel and pick up my cord. I also enjoy two cups of complimentary coffee while waiting for the shuttle to return.

• 10:20 a.m. -- Back at the airport, after a drop-off at the adjacent Mall of America, I breeze through security this time. I use the faster "Expert Traveler" lane for those of us who don't need to be told to take off our shoes and belts, place our laptops in separate containers, etc. I question in my mind whether I'm really an "Expert Traveler," feeling more like and "Expert Waiter."

Falling from the skies

• 10:30 a.m. -- I get to my gate and learn from a fellow strandee (castaway, refugee?) that the 10 a.m. flight was canceled, not because of Newark weather, but because the airport was backed up trying to accommodate all the passengers falling from the skies after missing their Sunday and Monday flights.

• 11 a.m. -- As I'm walking along with my computer bag and backpack -- my suitcase supposedly is in Newark waiting for me -- I get a call from K-State sports information director Kenny Lannou, who has a player on the line. K-State's only New York press conference was moved up to accommodate an amended practice schedule leaving it devoid of Kansas media, so I conduct an impromptu interview with offensive guard Zach Kendall.

• 11:30 a.m. -- Back to the gate area and to ponder what kind of story I can fashion from one lone player interview. Ironically, the one time K-State's offensive and defensive coordinators are available to the media all season, we're not able to be there.

We're all nomads here

• Noon-1 p.m. -- I trade horror stories with fellow bystanders whose faces are starting to become familiar. We're all nomads, wandering from gate to gate watching others board our planes.

• 1:30 p.m. -- The 1 o'clock flight leaves, and we head to the 3:15, which soon shows a 4:30 departure time, then 5:30 and finally 6:20. The people I talk to are surprisingly good-natured, considering what we've been through. For some, they're happy because they have actual boarding passes to get on the plane.

• 6 p.m. -- I've watched my name slowly climb the standby list from No. 20 to 16 to 13. They actually get a few standbys on this plane but can't even fill all the seats because extra luggage from previous flights puts them over the weight limit.

• 6:30 p.m. -- Since the 7:15 flight is coming right up, I decide to stick around and take a shot before calling it a day. To my dismay that standby list has me back down to No. 16 of 19.

The joys of a good deal

Did I mention that the same screens now tried to explain how something like that happens. While every agent I saw Monday claimed not to know how the standby order was set, Tuesday they listed the top three priority criteria: No. 1 Skymile status (VIPs); No. 2 Current day travel disruptions (mine, alas were the previous day); No. 3 Ticket value (I'm essentially punished for getting what at the time seemed like a good deal).

n 7:30 p.m. -- The last Newark flight is officially closed with me again on the outside looking in, so I rush to the "Help Desk" and get a standby ticket for 7 a.m. Wednesday.

• 8 p.m. -- I get my hotel discount voucher, check in and head back to the same restaurant, go back to my room to work some more and finally start jotting down these notes. My wake-up call is now less than three hours away.

Epilogue:

On Wednesday, a fairly confident Arne said he was supposed to board a 4:30 flight to Newark.

"I have an actual seat assignment," he said mid-afternoon. "As long as it's here and it takes off, I'll be on it."

• 5 p.m. -- Arne boards the plane.

• X:XX p.m. Touchdown in Newark.

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