Ross Hammonds Staff Writer

This is a true comedy of errors. A string of horrible coincidences. Maybe just a plain old random work of God.

Let me say this to be perfectly clear: I, in no way, started or know anyone involved whatsoever with the origins of the San Diego wildfires. My sister and brother-in-law now live in San Diego, less than a mile from Qualcomm Stadium. I have friends who have evacuated their homes because of the fires. This situation is very serious.

My situation, however, is also uncannily linked.

Go back several months to when the 2003 NFL schedule was released, when I learned that the Miami Dolphins, the target of the constant "1972? Were you even alive then?" remarks, were playing in San Diego on Oct. 27. I was born in 1981 - not to mention the 'Phins had added Junior Seau to the "Why can't we win in December?" roster.

As soon as possible, I jumped on buying tickets. Fatefully, before I purchased seats at the Q, I realized I should recruit other Dolphins to make the trek. It wasn't a home game where I could immerse myself among the countless teal heads. The Q is enemy territory, the likes of which I've seen at Candlestick and the Coliseum, once within the Black Hole. Once.

Apparently, Ricky and Junior still have lots of friends in SD. It was a sellout in early September.

I was reduced to the option of buying tickets on eBay or trying to buy them from a scalper (sorry, don't know the PC term for these people). These strategies, although usually reliable, are still risky.

Since paying over face value was inevitable, I couldn't drop Gs anymore. Staying with my sister would save me the fees of bedding, except they weren't going to let college kids stay in their apartment while they went to Vegas for their anniversary.

Fair enough.

With the crew down to three people, the plan was to leave Sunday, not Friday. Fine, we were still going.

12:30 p.m., Sunday, Oct. 26: Someone, who I'll call Winnipeg Jets, decides he's not going. Attrition occurs. Other person, aka Phoenix Coyotes, explains schoolwork has piled up and leaving is impossible.

No problem. I possess a vehicle, and a single ticket will be simple. Cars require keys. My keys were in my backpack that was in a friend's car that was in New York for the weekend. Sigh.

I had the keys to my girlfriend's car, and she wasn't in Tucson. Then, cause and effect logic kicked in and I suppressed my instincts. I put the keys in a place I couldn't find twice.

At this point, I was sure Ms. Cleo wasn't looking at the right cards. So, I sat dejected and pondered how this transpired, clicking between the mind-numbing Jets/Eagles game and the absurd movie "Ice Age."

Then a bizarre sequence unfolded. No, I wasn't arrested for being a college kid in Tucson, which apparently is now illegal.

I'm sure you recall the saber-toothed tiger in "Ice Age" is named Diego. The twists of fate have only begun to begin.

Then my mom told me the highways into SD were closed due to a wildfire. Since she has an elementary school teacher's tendency to panic and fear the worst, I shrugged it off. Then I heard my sister couldn't get home and they had to stay in a hotel somewhere outside SD County.

Espn.com reported Monday Night Football might be postponed. The Q was being used for refugees and service vehicles because of the proximity to the fires, reported as two to three miles from the stadium.

Then, a game break in the Jets/Eagles game; because of the fire in San Diego, the NFL is considering moving the game to San Francisco, Oakland or Tempe. Then I thought about it: The Cards played the 49ers at home, and Oaktown almost lost their bye. They won't use Tempe 'cause the field was just used.

Then, NFL commissioner Paul Tagliabue said it was being moved to Sun Devil Stadium.

Everything went black and I was online looking for tickets.

Then the final straw broke my mood into hysterical laughter. The tickets for the game were going to be free on a first-come, first-serve basis. I marveled at how this all happened. Then I remembered why.

So many people suffered from one lost hunter's signal fire and so many lives were altered or changed forever, while some people were going to a MNF game an hour from Tucson - for free.

Maybe it's all relative. Maybe we have some serious bad luck in front of us. Maybe it's a little something I call "Phinphate." Then I saw the line around Sun Devil Stadium and what appeared to be most of Tempe.

There was a charm to it, though: one and a half miles of people in a single line, orderly and patient, drinking Bud Ice. "Doobie, doobie doo," the penguin said. Stunning. Everything you wouldn't see in Tucson. No stampede for tickets and people (of age) permitted to consume alcohol.

Then there was the north entrance and a line only a first down long (that's 30 feet to the layman). Enter section 22, row 13, in the northeast corner - surrounded by 40 percent Charger fans, 40 percent Dolphin fans, 11 percent Cardinal fans (I barely believed it also) and 9 percent every other team, in every sport. The only teams not represented to my knowledge were Houston and Indy. Even Cincy and Jax had support, along with hockey and basketball and some grieving Yanks fans.

On the field was a Chargers logo painted over the Cardinals logo over the Arizona State logo in the end zone. The jumbotron had the same program as the Q while the Charger Girls got down to "California Girls" wrapped in Chargers banners on the sideline - all notable, given the less than 24 hours to prepare for the game. Appearances can be deceiving.

It was a potpourri of enthusiasts, thrown in a blender of random seat selection. It seemed like there were more people escorted out by event staff and law enforcement than Chargers first downs. The crowd was a wide spectrum of ages, preferred words and Arizona Cardinal beer cups that manifested into an experience very unlikely to occur again any time soon.

Raising money for San Diego Fire Relief was central, though, and free admission brought people for this reason. The relocation raised over $200,000, and the stress of dealing with a football game was lifted from San Diego.

The impact of this event will be felt for a while - and the football game was cool, too.