I'll repeat a bit of what I said in the PM. The chair is like a cross between a Stepford wife and She-Devil.
And, no, you weren't polished. You were real.
What strikes me about the situation is that at any point you could have tucked tail, walked out, gone home and no one would have been the wiser, except that no one would have answered the Chair's call. You stuck it out. Alone. It's not at though you went there with a group of people physically present to back you up.
Do NOT minimize that accomplishment. When you've some space to look back at it, I want you to consider exactly where you've come from - say, since '84 - and where you were when you stood up yesterday. The words don't express the depth of what I'm feeling about you, but I cannot emphasize enough that's absolutely HUGE. You're probably exhausted...and may be for yet a few days. But, mygawd, you actually DID IT.
Now that I have a little perspective on yesterday, I don't get the sense the tears in the car had anything to do with "failure" at all. I think it was complete emotional exhaustion. (I'll do the codep nag a little bit and tell you to take time to recover physically since the stress may not be immediately obvious).
(You've got goodies under your MS Birfday Tree, but, when you're up for it, go hit Macy's or somesuch to get some trophies as a reminder of your success. I'm not talkin' socks. I'm talking Ralph Lauren, YSL, Hilfiger...something really NICE...and, please, tasteful)