Why I Love Sports

Sometimes I wonder why I love sports so much. I wonder why I refresh box scores every 15 seconds. I wonder why I camp out in the bitter cold. I wonder why I wake up happy on Wednesday after a win on Saturday. I wonder why I wake up from bed on the weekends, check scores on my cell phone, and fall back asleep for a few hours.

Maybe it's the history of sports. Bless ESPN Classic, and all the old "Best of All-Time lists." I might not have even been alive during some of the moments, yet just watching a replay gives me shivers. Gibson's homer off Eckersley... Fick's homer to left... Bobby Thomson's homer ("The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant)... the Red Sox's 3-0 comeback win... The Catch... Jordan's shot over Ehlo... The Shot... Flutie's hail mary... NC State's upset win... Christian Laettner's turnaround winner over Kentucky... The Play... half the UCLA 2005 football season... UCLA vs. Gonzaga...

The list is endless. I hate some of those teams, I hate some of those players, but I appreciate every single moment. That's what loving sports is all about. It's about watching athletes performing at the peak of their abilities, when the moment matters most. It's about the anticipation, the excitement in the air, the desperation, and the joy. It's about knowing when the big player is going to make the big, game-changing play, that innate feeling when you know something special is going to happen.

The inspiration for all these emotions is the greatest game I've ever attended, yet never officially written about. I remember everything like it was yesterday, even if today is the really the 5 month anniversary.

March 23rd, 2006
After taking finals, racing to the airport to catch a flight back, and rushing across the Bay to catch the end of Memphis-Bradley, it was tipoff time for the Bruins. Great seats, first row of the upper deck (remember this).

The UCLA Bruins spend the first half struggling. Shots aren't falling, Morrison is hitting his midrange shots, Afflalo is in foul trouble, and the Bruins look flat. Morrison is jawing with Afflalo, telling him to step up, but the Bruins have no answer. We fall as far down as 17; every time we think we're on a run, the Zags come back and score a bucket. I'll never count anyone out after watching the 2005 UCLA football Bruins, but this does not look good.

Down 9 points with 3 minutes left, and there's still no sign of a comeback. Then it happens. That one shot, where you say hey, maybe we're still in this. A tough Farmar fadeaway from the corner, followed by the 2nd of 3 Morrison misses (how do I still remember this?). All have fallen before for Ammo, yet not now. It's Bruin time.

The final minute was a blur. I vaguely remember a couple busted Zags possessions, a drive by Collison for an AND1 where they wiped out the basket, and a couple Hollins free throws. 12 seconds. Quite possibly the 2nd most famous 12 seconds in UCLA history (behind Tyus Edney's court-to-court dash). Here's the rundown, in my head:

Morrison in the corner... foul him!... crap, it's Afflalo and Moute, they both have 4 fouls... WHY AREN'T THEY FOULING HIM?!... ok, he's giving it up to Batista... good foul shooter too, damn... *ROAR* oh my, the ball's loose!... Farmar down low, pass looks wide... MOUUUUUTE!! OUT OF NOWHERE!!!... puts it in!!!... *hugging Nick, picking each other off the ground as I probably have about a 36" vertical at this point*... WHAT?! We're ahead?!?!? I thought we were down 3 still!!!!... Ravio drives down court, gotta stop the ball... A STEAL!!!... MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE!!!... BRUINS BALL!!!... FREE THROWS!!!... GAME, SET, MATCH!!!... AHH, THAT'S THE EDGE OF THE SECOND DECK, I'M GONNA FALL OFF!!!

That's pretty much how it ended up. I've never hugged so many people at one game. I've never feared for my life from celebrating (we were literally a few feet from getting pushed off). I've never had such a blissful feeling of happiness, of sports triumph. We took the game from the Zags' hands, snatched it right away, in the most dramatic, exhilarating way. We won.

And that, my friends, is what sports is all about. You see, it's not just about following your team every day, or memorizing stats and analyzing games. You can't wake up one day and decide that you love sports, that you're going to become a sports fan. It's either in you, or it isn't. It's nurtured, not obtained. It's about breathing with victory (one week and two days later), crying with defeat (one week and four days later), and loving every minute of it. And it's an experience that's all your own.