Dumped the Pump, Beat the Bullies and Got Derailed

My wife, Debra, and I watched our beloved world champion Los Angeles Lakers banish the bullies from Boston back to Beantown at the Staples Center. Thursday night's Game 7 of the NBA Finals was a magical experience we'll never forget — for more reasons than you'd think.

Thursday was "Dump the Pump Day," which encouraged residents to take public transportation for travel instead of driving. So we decided to leave our car at home and ride the train and bus to The Big Fastener. We had plenty of smart reasons to:

• We'd save at least $50 in gas and parking.
• We'd save the stress and aggravation of rush-hour traffic.
• Our car wouldn't be at risk in post-game celebrations.
• We'd cut our carbon footprint and help cut greenhouse gas emissions while supporting public transportation.

I jumped on the Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) website that morning. After a very long, convoluted process I was able to get the trip-planning info I needed.  (One tip I'll offer based on my experience is use the "Advanced" link to make your choices, it offers more options, like choosing a train-only trip). 

According to the site, we'd need to take the Green Line out of Redondo Beach to the Rosa Park Station at Imperial Highway and Wilmington Avenue then transfer to a Blue Line train downstairs at street level to get the train that goes straight to Chick Hearn Station at Pico, just one block from Staples. Sounded easy.

At the Green Line station, we parked in the free lot and used a credit card to buy two all-day passes for $5 each. The clean and mostly empty train arrived right on time and whisked us east along the 105 Freeway to the Rosa Parks station. 

We used our all-day passes to get onto the Blue Line platform where we immediately ran into a contingent of fellow Lakers fans headed to the game.  They were already chanting, "Lets go Lakers!" and "Boston Sucks!" loudly and steadily throughout the ride, even serenading us with a song attesting to their Lakers love. 

After arriving at the Chick Hearn station on Pico Boulevard, right on time, Debra and I agreed that taking the train was more fun than driving. I gave myself a big pat on the back for having thought of the idea as we walked one block to Staples.

The Lakers-Celtics game was exciting, emotional and historic. Knowing that we didn't have to get our car out of a parking lot before it closed, and that the trains ran past midnight, we stayed to enjoy the trophy ceremonies and even went out for drinks at The Palm to toast the beating of our most despised basketball rival.

We left the restaurant and walked back to the Chick Hearn station around 11 p.m. Trash strewn from overturned garbage cans lined the sidewalks, and the street was filled with Lakers fans, police and fire engines. 

A phalanx of police in helmets with face guards in place and nightsticks at the ready position blocked the entry to the Chick Hearn Blue Line station. They told us that the station was closed and to "move out of the area."

We asked one police officer after another where the closest station we could use was. No one had an answer for us.  "Just keep moving," we were told. 

Finally one cop gave us vague directions to the train station on San Pedro. When we tried to walk that route we were blocked by another line of riot police who had closed the intersection and were moving people in another direction. None of the officers could tell us where a Blue Line station was in the direction they were herding us.

We were now blocks away from Staples in a neighborhood filled with people drinking and celebrating in the streets and in their cars.   We were lucky enough to finally spot a street sign for the Blue Line and headed in the direction the arrow pointed.  Ten minutes later, we found the Grand Avenue Blue Line station and felt like we had won our own Finals. 

Riot police carrying shotguns surrounded the platform. After we waited about 15 minutes for the train, an audio announcement broadcast that the station was closed and the Blue Line was not running that night. People should find a bus to take, the announcement said.

No one from the MTA was there to offer directions or any help. It was obvious that all of us stranded passengers were completely on our own. No one at Metro had planned contingencies or cared enough to offer any customer service response. They couldn't even bother to let people know what bus to take or where to catch it.

It was now midnight. The scene was dicey and tense at the corner of Grand Avenue and Washington Boulevard, just across the street from the Los Angeles Trade Tech College, where we now watched about 20 police cars, each filled with four riot police, race down the street, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

Luckily for us, we were able to follow people who were more familiar with the area to a bus stop. We all waited another 15 minutes or so, and finally a bus that would take us to the Rosa Parks station arrived. We used our all-day MTA passes to get on board and took the bumpy, jerky ride. A half hour later we boarded the final Green Line train of the night back to the Redondo Beach station. We made it home by 1 a.m.

I'm still amazed at how inept the folks at Metro were and how they left their customers high and dry in a dangerous situation. Not a single Metro employee at the Chick Hearn Station, Grand Avenue Station or anywhere else, arrived on scene to direct or inform the people who use their service. We were left abandoned.

The MTA website issued a service advisory online at 6:23 p.m. that night. Too bad the game started at 5 p.m., and no one attending would have seen the alert unless they thought to check the MTA website on their Smartphone.  Even worse, the too little, too late alert stated, "Metro personnel will be in the area to assist customers." 

Yeah. Right. And I'm a Celtics fan.

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