Highs and lows from the UCLA sports reel
There comes a point, I imagine, in every fifth-year’s life when you feel like your time has come.
For some, it comes early.
For others, it may not come until year six.
For me, it came yesterday. Or maybe it was the day before.
In any event, the point is, I’ve reached that point.
The things that used to excite me are no longer quite as exciting. School is school, work is work, and the prospect of the real world is situated somewhere between semi and very terrifying.
I have neither the energy nor the ability to write haikus about UCLA basketball (haikus that would have made Matsuo Basho exceedingly proud, by the way). The walk to O’Hara’s (that’s its name, after all) on Thursday night seems longer and colder with each passing week. “You’re still here?” is becoming an all-too-familiar greeting on my walks to and from campus.
I feel old.
But with age comes experience, and with experience comes wisdom. Or something like that.
Which ultimately brings me to my point.
(Brief aside: It’s snowing right now! It’s not supposed to snow in Westwood, but it’s snowing right now!)
My point is that I’ve seen a lot here (snow included), and though I won’t go so far as to say that UCLA athletics has “made” my UCLA experience, it has certainly made my UCLA experience significantly better.
In four-plus years as a sportswriter and (more importantly) as a sports fan, I have forged a number of memories that will undoubtedly stay with me forever.
So when I begin to get down about the real world, about the prospect of graduation and all the uncertainty that goes along with it, I think back and remember the amazing things (some triumphant, some heartbreaking) that I have seen and experienced.
Because I feel like lists are a bit contrived, and because each moment and subsequent memory is special in its own right, I’ve resisted that temptation.
I remember my first men’s basketball game as a student much more vividly than my first class.
I remember when Ben Howland left a message on my voice mail to apologize for hurting my feelings back when I was a wee third-year.
I remember the kamikaze bird that soared directly into the flight path of a tennis ball in an NCAA semifinal match.
I remember seeing a UCLA goalkeeper completely miss the ball on a back pass, and I vividly recall the look of horror as the ball trickled into the net.
I remember my first interview with Billy Martin.
I remember the triumph of the women’s gymnastics team in Pauley Pavilion.
I remember the heartbreak of the men’s volleyball team in the same venue.
I remember Jesse Melgares winning the Cingular Wireless SuperShot.
I remember a confident men’s tennis team blown off the courts in Tulsa, Okla.
I remember an even more confident men’s tennis team pulling off the most improbable of improbables one season later to win the national championship.
13-9.
I remember Steve Lavin.
I remember the tingle I felt as Luc Richard Mbah a Moute laid the ball in to beat Gonzaga in last year’s Sweet 16.
I remember the wit and charm of Jill Ellis.
I remember the deafening silence of the UCLA locker room after a Las Vegas Bowl loss to Wyoming.
I remember the moment when I realized that UCLA basketball had returned to its rightful place among the nation’s elite.
And I remember so much more.
We all do. And we all should.
There really is a lot to that tired “enjoy your time here” cliche, just like there really is something to the sports column a young Daily Bruin writer will produce without fail every year, explaining the merits of UCLA sports teams that aren’t called football or men’s basketball.
This school is a special place with special people.
Treasure it, enjoy the snow, and, go Bruins.
E-mail Regan at dregan@media.ucla.edu if you want him to continue publishing columns for the Daily Bruin.
