Back home in B'more. With Maryland having been run out of town, our services were no longer required. To the state university's credit, its fans closed down all the bars in the headquarters hotel last night. Clumps of red all over the lobby and deep along and around the bars; they just kept swarming in after the late finish to the game. And clearly it was Terp red rather than Wolfpack red, which was impressive because there was no more angry group of fans in Greensboro on Friday than N.C. State fans during and after that embarrassing loss to Wake Forest that afternoon. Since they were in their home territory, they likely found other places outside the hotels to drown their sorrows. Honestly, though, the Maryland fans didn't sound all that sorrowful. I think they saw that spanking as inevitable, if not by B.C. than by someone else.

Speaking of which, Boston was not hugely represented down there, but if B.C. wins tomorrow, that will be the last time that happens at an ACC tournament. Don't think that New Englanders who care about college ball aren't getting a kick out of going down into the heart of Tobacco Road and getting a shot at winning the tourney the first time out. And don't think this isn't rubbing the locals wrong; it might tick them off worse to see this than to have seen Maryland do it twice.

Not that it wasn't a great facility that treated us well, but it was a relief on many levels to check out of that hotel and head home. For one thing, it was a big break that the flights back to BWI that were completely booked at least back to last week, got a couple of openings, enough for both intrepid Sun reporters to squeeze in. After calling the airline back five times between the end of Friday's game and about 1 this afternoon, I had resigned myself to flying back Sunday and was going to catch at least one of the semifinals yesterday - until I heard a late-afternoon flight was available. Packed in 15 minutes, checked out, drove through thunderstorms and set a record (and avoided being pulled over) from Greensboro to the Raleigh airport. Can't say I'm proud of it, just fortunate.

The only delay in getting out of town was the elevator. On Wednesday, the night before the tourney started, I had headed to dinner and stepped on the elevator on the 21st floor, and as the door closed, the car jolted hard, stopped, started again, went down one floor, jolted to a stop again, started again, went down another floor, and the door opened. I jumped out like Jack Bauer diving out of an exploding helicopter. I walked the 19 floors down to the lobby. The other diners got a nice chuckle out of that, and kept laughing when I refused to take that particular elevator the rest of my time there. Naturally, as I was racing to get that flight today, the first elevator to come to the floor was that one. Otherwise, I would have made it three minutes earlier.

Next posting: after the bids are out tomorrow night.