I know for a fact that what I am about to discuss can and probably will be said better by sports writers across the land. I think, however, that is the point. I am no basketball player. Hell, I am barely a knowledgable observer. But by god, I am a basketball fan. And I have Ben Howland to thank for that. 

Let me start back, and reflect on the moment that changed my entire attitude towards college sports. So being the classics major that I am, I decided to double up both a GE and a major requirement by taking a class on the English language as rooted in Ancient Greek and Latin. Believe you me, it sounds about as awesome as it was. Needless to say, the final for this class was on Friday of finals week, winter quarter 2006. It was the last of the last, and for me, the worst of the worst. I was teetering on the brink of A-/B+, and opted to save all my studying for the night before… the night of the UCLA/Gonzaga match up during the Sweet Sixteen. For anyone who knows anything about UCLA sports during the last 5 years, that game needn't be described;inevitably its last minute is seared into your memory. As for the rest of you, let it be known that UCLA came back from a deficit of about a million within about 30 seconds and won that game by I think a half of a point. 

Okay, so perhaps the numerical logistics are a little fuzzy. All I know is that my life changed as I watched those boys come back. Every Greek and Latin root fell by the wayside as Westwood village erupted into a cacophany of relief (or was it disbelief?). Words did no justice to the joy, to the miracle that was our victory. During that game, I witnessed a tenacity admirable in every context of life, and luck that transcended all logic. It gave hope, and suddenly the impossible was possible. No matter what I needed to know for that final, I was going to know it… probably in the last second. 

Skipping ahead, past all that Joakim Noah bullshit and all that baseball and football jibber-jabber, we find ourselves with a similar roster and a similar spark. Our basketball team not only brings life to the court, but life to UCLA. Never before and never again had I heard a noise like that following our victory over Gonzaga. I love music more than any sport, but I treasure that sound the most. We're back, we're here again, approaching a very similar moment, so I recommend listening closely this year. Pay attention. I don't care if you're an artist, a book keeper, a hermit or a gymnast. The importance of what plays out on that court is a testament to the unexpectedness of life… hard work, indeed, but also magic. 

By the way, I got the A-. God bless Luc Richard Mbah a Moute.  

-Christina Gubala 

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