Sunday was a day Keith Groller will never forget, even if I'd like to

FROM KEITH GROLLER

Ever have one of those days that you'll one day laugh about, but it's no fun at all as you're going through it?

Had one of those on Sunday.

Hey, there are a lot of people dealing with the aftermath of that rare October snowstorm and will be for another couple of days. So I know I am not alone. And I know people are dealing with more adversity than me right about now, so I don't want to act like my world has ended.

But anyway to recap my Sunday:

It started nice enough in a quaint little town of Norwich, NY, where my wife and I stayed after the Lehigh-Colgate game. Beautiful day as we got going and if you like rolling hills and farmland, that drive from upstate New York back into northeastern Pennsylvania is gorgeous.

Stoppped at a Cracker Barrel in Binghamton and if there's one time you probably shouldn't visit a Cracker Barrel, it's the late morning or early afternoon on a Sunday.

Dinner was ok, but even my wife, who loves that gift shop shop adjacent to the restaurant at all Cracker Barrels, couldn't take the crowds.

That's more than ok with me, since I figure I will actually leave a Cracker Barrel with some money for a change, and we leave.

I am running low on gas, so I get off at one of those convenience centers on the turnpike.

But when I get off at the convenience area between Route 80 and the Mahoning Valley exit, I see lines so long that you'd swear they were giving out free gas at the Sunoco.

I looked at the gauge and figured I'd have just enough gas to make it home, so rather than what looks like at least a half-hour wait, I get right back on the turnpike and continue south.

Again, the sun's out and everything seems fine.

I get off at the Lehigh Valley exit and head for home.

But once I got off 309/78 at the Lehigh Street exit, I notice there are no stop lights. None there and none seemingly anywhere in either direction. And the McDonald's, the Wendy's, the South Mall, Subway, everything is closed.

It's like a ghost town, except for the confusion at each intersection. What should be a 10-minute drive becomes 20 because there are no stoplights and everyone is reluctant to go first at these four-way stops. Who knew I'd appreciate stoplights?

Even worse, is that I am still out of gas. One station is closed. No. 2 is closed and a third one, too. All of a sudden I am running out of gas stations, not to mention gas. I must be running on fumes by now. Talk abou panic central.

Thankfully, I finally find one -- a Hess -- on the outskirts of town.

Remember that 30-minute wait I so smartly avoided on the turnpike? Well, I traded that for a 45-minute wait here at Hess. But at least they had gas.

One crisis averted, we finally make it home after noticing that our town looks like a hurricane blew through it.

Unbelievable. Such beautiful trees and bushes seemingly ripped to shreds.

We get home and naturally, there's snow to shovel outside and an ice box inside. No power. Who knows how long it's been out?

We try to patch together a game plan, but I have to get to Philly for the Eagles game. Because of the search for gas, I am much later than I want to be.

Because of all the damaged trees all over the place, just getting back to the turnpike proves to be much more time-consuming and difficult than usual. All shortcut, out-of-the-way routes offer some kind of problem.

I'm still in great shape in terms of making the game on time, especially since I am armed with a parking pass that will get me right across the street from the Linc.

Except that when I get to the parking gate, my pass seems to do me no good. The guards keep waving me off, not even letting me plead my case.

I head all the way around to other side of the Wells Fargo Center -- bumper to bumper --- and get to another gate.

Thankfully, a kind-hearted guard lets me in. But I can't just park anywhere. I have to go to a certain section near the tailgaterrs.

Oh, what fun having plastered people who have probably been drinking since 9 a.m., if not earlier, stumbling in front of the car as I try to navigate through Party Central where they ignore my Honda Odyssey or treat me as if I am Rob Ryan or Tony Romo.

Somehow, some way, I get the car and myself through the tailgaters in one piece and find a spot.

I get settled inside the stadium, still more than an hour before kickoff. I realize, however, that in all of the tension, that I forgot my cell phone in the car.

No way I am going back out of the stadium and into the heart of the Eagles nest where they should be singing "High, Eagles, High" instead of "Fly, Eagles, fly".

I borrow a phone from a friend and call back home and my wife tells PPL says the power won't be back on until at least 9:30.

I say, great.

My wife says, no, that's 9:30 Monday night.

She says she's spending the night with her family in Whitehall.

I say, ok, please try to find me a room as close to home as possible.

She e-mails me back about two hours later and says, the best I can do is a Holiday Inn in Lansdale.

I say, great. And then she tells me the price.

So, here I am on this Monday morning. A bit shaken, a bit stirred, and much poorer, after that memorable Sunday, but at least I am warm and rested.

I just turned on the TV and saw that Cardinals manager Tony La Russa is retiring. Normally, this news would have me concerned, but until the power is restored back home, what happens with that job and Albert Pujols is not going to top the worry priority list today.

http://blogs.mcall.com/groller/