PHILADELPHIA -- I'm going to apologize right out front if this column isn't coherent, but I feel like I'm channeling Lewis Carroll or Hunter S. Thompson after what I saw Sunday night. And before you Lakers fans have a hissy fit, that's not a backhanded compliment for your team's stellar clutch job pushing the mute button on an entire raucous arena. It's because I simply saw more bizarre and frightening sights in and around Game 3 then I can ever remember witnessing at a sporting event. Here's the rundown:

Offensive-charging and over-the-back calls on Shaq: I've seen a few called here and there, but never five in a span of 15 minutes to foul him out with 2:21 left. I have a good relationship with most of the league's officials, so I know that the calls in Game 3 were, in part, to compensate for missed calls in Game 2. The officials review their performance while watching the game on tape and provide a report telling the next officiating crew to look out for what might have been missed. But I've never seen a crew suddenly make a player toe the line as they did the Daddy. It almost was as odd as seeing Shaq knock down 8 of 9 from the free-throw line.

A packed parking lot and arena 2½ hours before tipoff: That's only bizarre because I've attended so many games at the Staples Center lately, where the crowd energy is nearly as nonexistent as it is at a regular-season game. The Lakers struggled to find a spark in Game 1 -- not once did I hear a Let's-Go-Lakers chant. (I heard it once in Game 2, so the L.A. fans obviously know the words.) Conversely, the 76ers fans, including the three guys with awful-looking homemade jerseys made out of ribbed white muscle shirts and magic markers, were making a ruckus before they even got into the building and roared in anticipation as the clock ticked off the final minute of warmups.

Violence that is the stuff of nightmares: A few minutes after the game ended, a fight broke out in the stands behind me between what appeared to be several 76ers fans. One guy actually was holding his own until a guy jumped in and sucker-punched him from behind, dropping him cold. Then, as he lay face-down and unconscious in the aisle, a guy wearing a Mutombo jersey and Timberland boots stomped on his head. The fight went on for quite a few minutes before the First Union Center ushers arrived, and then they stood and initially watched. I can understand why, in part, because the guys duking it out were big and the ushers were elderly, but had they reacted they might've saved the fan from getting brutalized.

Bill getting his swerve on: As I congratulated Shaq's free-throw coach, I spotted former President Clinton in a crowd, no more than 10 feet away, near the loading dock posing for pictures. Then I noticed who he was posing with -- two provocatively-dressed girls who had been hanging around the Lakers' bench all night. I'm not passing judgment, but you'd think a guy who has seen his share of trouble -- and still has a Senator for a wife -- would pass on a photo-op with a bare-midriffed, hiphugger-wearing tall blonde falling out of her halter top. You can bet the National Enquirer would pay a handsome price for those pics.

Sorry to those who were looking for X's and O's. Next time I'll try to channel George Karl.

Ric Bucher is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at ric.bucher@espnmag.com.