John Delach

The 2008 Improbable Playoff Season

John Delach

November 2025

Mike arrived first having set sail from his home in Fairfield, CT at 2:30 am.

Mary Ann drove the two of us first to Joe’s house. Joe was sitting on his front steps when we arrived at 5:00 a.m. Our second stop, was Dave’s house. Dave and his son, Tim were ready when we reached them too. Dave’s wife, Jamie, gave us hugs and wished us well. It was around 5:15 when Mary Ann drove us out of town. “You do realize the last time most of us were together in this truck was when we drove home from the loss to the Patriots.” Dave informed us.

This led to an animated discussion about the playoffs, the team and the Super Bowl that Mary Ann enjoyed. Traffic was light on this Saturday morning and we arrived at the American’s departure area at LaGuardia Airport before 6:00. I explained to the Red Cap at curbside check-in: “Before we check our bags, three of us need boarding passes for our flight from DFW to Tucson. If you can get them for us, there is a substantial tip waiting for you.”

He replied, “Give me your driver’s licenses and I’ll be right back.”

He collected Joe’s, Mike’s and my licenses and disappeared into the terminal returning ten-minutes later with three boarding passes. “Hot dog!” I exclaimed as I handed him a $20 tip and another $20 for checking our bags. I called Mary Ann to let her know that we were in business. Unfortunately, I didn’t know that our flight to DFW had been postponed from 8:15 to 9:20. Joe discovered this as Dave, Tim and I ate breakfast. “We have a problem. If that delay slips, we could miss the flight to Tucson. One of the agents I went to see about a seat in an exit row thinks she can get us on an earlier flight.”

We followed Joe back to the agent. She told us, “One hundred eleven of the 132 passengers booked on Flight 707 have checked in. I’ll put you on stand-by. You better go to the gate as it departs at 7:15.”

Nice gal, she put us at the top of the list. Michael then schmoozed the gate agent who told him he thought we may have a shot. We waited as the flight was loaded. I was about ready to give up when the agent shouted out to us, “Okay, get on now as quickly as you can. Don’t worry about your seat assignments; just grab any empty seat you see.”

We scattered about the 737 that departed on time. Of course, our bags remained with the luggage for the later flight so if that plane missed the connection, so would our bags. Later at DFW, we learned that we had escaped this crisis when we found a group of passengers who were on our original flight. They made it despite the delay and, presumably, so did our bags.

I told my mates that I had just called Mary Ann to update her on our progress and that, so far, all was well. “Well boys, here was her reply, ‘That’s good news. Now calm down and have fun. But, John, this is the last time that you can go on one of these trips. Then again, by the time the Giants get back to the Super Bowl, you’ll probably be dead.”

The connecting flight to Tucson on an MD-80 was uneventful, but the Red Cap who procured our seats back at LGA really did us a favor seating the three of us in the exit rows.

On arrival, Mike told us that he had a text message from Steve who had arrived first. Steve was happy to report that the hotel was clean, well-kept and close to a BBQ restaurant and a WAL-MART that sold liquor, wine and beer. Once we boarded the mini-van that Dave rented from Enterprise. I told Joe, “Joe, Steve doesn’t know that Doctor Mike plans to spend Sunday night at our hotel.”

“So what?” Joe asked.

“Well, I figure that Doctor Mike didn’t reserve a room. That means he’ll stay with Steve or you. When Steve finds this out, he’s going flip out. You’d better be prepared to let Doctor Mike be your room-mate.”

A short ride through beautiful downtown Tucson northwest on I-10 brought us to the Best Western in Marano, Arizona. Following a quick check-in, we hooked-up with Steve and headed to WAL-MART for provisions for the room and tomorrow’s tailgate. Steve told us that The Texas Roadhouse BBQ joint across from our hotel had agreed to supply us with ribs, chicken and pulled pork for tomorrow’s tailgate.

Once his brother, Jamie and son Justin arrived, we walked over to The Texas Roadhouse to place our order and have a drink. Even though it was early, this family restaurant was mobbed with patrons filling the restaurant, the bar, a holding area, the waiters’ stations and outside the front door. The manager advised Steve to return later so we drove to Li’l Abner’s Steakhouse.

I had seen a favorable review of this casual place in the AAA Guide and a fellow Tucson passenger that morning had confirmed it to be a good place to eat.

It was located in a single-story adobe style building that looked to have seen better days. They cooked the meat outside on a huge grill mounted on a circular stone wood burning stove. When we arrived, we saw chicken, ribs, and steak on the grill. Our cute and nice waitress, Alex was helpful. She told us the menu was oral which, of course set the guys off. When we asked her what appetizers they offered, Alex replied, “We don’t do appetizers.”

We decided to order full racks of beef and pork ribs for the table as our starters. When Alex delivered our order, she couldn’t resist commenting, “Well, I guess we do have appetizers after all.”

We ordered steaks as our main course. It was a good feed and they served Fat Tire Beer on tap, a sweet beer that I first enjoyed in 2005 on a trip to Fruita, Colorado.

Over dinner, we let it leak to Steve that Doctor Mike planned to spend Sunday night in our hotel. As anticipated, Steve reacted badly, “What, what. Well, he better have his own room because he’s not staying with me.”

To rev him up further I said, “Maybe you should check at the front desk to see if he reserved his own room,” knowing full well he did not.

We nudged Joe who replied, “I have a single bed. I hope he doesn’t mind a pull-out couch.”

Before returning to the hotel, Steve stopped to see the manager at The Texas Roadhouse and gave him our order. Steve related, “He is coming in early so that we can pick up the food at 8 a.m. and he didn’t ask for nor would he take a deposit.”