Operation Tulsa-Chapter 1: The Arrival

One reporter's account of one hell of a trip
By Samantha Franz
Sports Editor

After weeks of planning, fretting and dialing wrong numbers, yesterday was finally T-Day.

It was time to leave for Tulsa, Okla. to cover the Mid-Con basketball tournament, and it was my first time on a plane in almost seven years.

But I wouldn't be alone. Senior reporter Rob Tate was right by my side, along with Adam Roberts and Brad Doescher of WXOU Sports. Together, we boarded our first flight to O'Hare Airport in Chicago around 11 a.m.

Now, I've heard of bad flights. I've also heard of really bad flights.

This was worse, because apparently, Chicago is called "The Windy City" for a reason.

As it was time to land, our pilot announced there "could be some turbulance" as United Flight 335 started to descend.

Mental note to virgin flyers: "some turbulance" is a polite way of saying, "hope you're ready to taste your breakfast again."

As our plane rocked back and forth like that shake shack Sandy and Danny dance on at the end of "Grease," something strange happened.

Our plane halted its descent and shot back up into the atmosphere.

The pilot announced that we couldn't land yet due to almost 50 mph winds, so we would circle the runway for 10-12 minutes.

More than 25 minutes later, we were still in the air and the sky had taken on a color that some one dear to my heart refers to as, "Michigan Blight."

Finally, around 11:45, the pilot once again called for a preperation to land. This time, he followed through and after many silent prayers and gripping the armrest in a death grip, we finally landed at O'Hare. I've never been happier to touch solid ground in my entire life.

O'Hare....I wish I could desricbe it in one word. Oh wait, I can. INSANE. I've never seen so many people from so many cultural backgrounds in one place before.

I've also never seen this crazy tunnel thing.

Everybody seems to have their own O'Hare horror story. Here's ours.

11:35 EST. That's the time our flight to Tulsa was supposed to take off.

5 1/2. That's how many hours we were stuck at the airport.

And oh no, the delay wasn't weather related. A flight attendent just decided not to show up for work.

Talk about a butterfly effect.

So, how does one kill such an amount of time? Well, you pay $10.95 for a cheeseburger, pace Terminal B about 26 times, take many half-way naps, and think of people in Chicago to blame for your misfourtune (We came up with Rex Grossman, Sammy Sosa, Michael Jordan, and Oprah.)

When our badly-highlighted United employee (whom we lovingly referred to as "Frosty") announced we would board about 4 p.m., cheers ran out like the Golden Grizzlies had just nailed the game-winning shot. When another employee (this one named "Cornrows") let us onboard, I felt like kissing him.

This flight was fantastically smooth. And after being in such crappy weather, I got to sit back with my apple juice and see this.

Simply beautiful.

We finally landed in Tulsa about 7:15 CST and after a few scares at the baggage claim, we finally made it to the hotel after 8 p.m. CST.

The first thing we did after unloading our bags? We did what any Michigander would do.

We went to a Sonic.

That pretty much sums up our first day in Tulsa. Stay tuned for Rob's updates from the women's tournament and mine from the men's. I'll also continue to document our trip for your amusement.

Happy reading and go Grizzlies!