A Sports Fan Goes Live (part 2)

Contrived. That was the only word that accurately described what I was witnessing, and it was a bit depressing.

I had journeyed (if ten minutes in moderate traffic qualifies as a “journey”) to Gersten Pavilion on the humble campus of Loyola Marymount University to watch mighty Gonzaga University unleash the attack that had propelled them to Top 10 national status. Sure I had witnessed it on television already this season – only a week before I had watched them roll up 19 points before San Diego could even get on the board. And yes, I could have watched this one from the comfort of my living room as well. But in addition to to my desire to witness hoops wizardry up close, my motivation for taking up residence in the bleachers this night was fueled by curiousity. I wanted to see if the “advances” in media and marketing over the past thirty years had made the game time experience any different than that which made me fall in love with sports in the first place. And if what I was viewing at that moment was any indication, I was most likely headed back to the couch, the HDTV and the Cheesy Poofs.

It was 20 minutes prior to tip-off, and across the court the first fans in the student section were milling around near the railing that separated the stands from media row. Most of the two dozen or so students were dressed in LMU regalia, some outrageously so, as has been de rigueur since Dick Vitale first body surfed through the Cameron Crazies prior to a Duke/Carolina game. It was way beyond old, but pretty benign stuff. And then the handheld TV camera appeared, accompanied by a producer who encouraged the students to go nuts as the camera rolled. Which they did through repeated takes, shifting back and forth on command between idle conversation and full Times Square at Midnight mode. The viewer at home saw a rabid group of fans hungry for a big game to start. I saw 30 people in an otherwise empty section of stands going gaga on cue, hungry to get their face on television. Staged fanaticism. Sigh.

The charade ended soon enough though, and I started to focus on the pre-game rituals that were unfolding. The players gliding through warm-up drills, the fans filling up the stands and greeting each other enthusiastically, the band and the cheerleaders starting to hit their stride. It was nice. It was comfortable. It was vaguely hypnotic and I found myself smiling. This feel, this rhythm hadn’t changed since I was an active part of it. And I have the feeling that long ago when the rhythm was still new to me, it was familiar to a previous generation that sat in the bleachers on those nights taking it all in.

The game began, and as expected, Gonzaga jumped out to an early lead. They were big, they were fast, and they could all shoot 3-pointers like they were lay-ups. Conversely, Loyola Marymount had been out of synch since they stumbled through player introductions prior to the game. Gonzaga by three; Gonzaga by five; by seven; by ten. It was a pretty mesmerizing display, as wave after wave of fresh bodies came off the Gonzaga bench with no discernable drop-off in talent. In fact, their substitution pattern struck me as a little too brisk. Players were in and right back out, having spent only a minute or two on the court. As time went by their cadence started to get a little sluggish – shots started hitting rim instead of net. And LMU sensed opportunity.

A hustle basket here, a circus shot there, a tightening of the screws on defense. LMU began to claw back into the game, and by halftime they were down just three. As the teams exited the floor for the break, a ripple of an idea began to swell. Perhaps on this night Gonzaga could be beaten? And if there was any doubt whatsoever that something odd was afoot, it was dismissed during the halftime festivities.

I’m sure you know the drill. A fan is chosen at random from the crowd to take part in a contest on the court. Something ostensibly achievable, but the combination of nerves and lack of skill always results in “Ooohhh, nice try! Let’s give our contestant a nice big round of applause”. On this night the fan had to make four shots from progressively further distances. The lay-up was solid, but the foul shot banked in. Never a good sign. Then the top-of-the-key shot also banked in. What are the odds? So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when the half-court heave hit nothing but net. What the hell was going on here?

LMU came out of the locker room like men possessed. They got every defensive rebound, every loose ball. They got confident. And Gonzaga started to clang shots with regularity. The tide was turning, and when a driving lay-up put LMU up five with 13:20 remaining, Gonzaga called timeout to try and squelch the upset fever that was sweeping throughout the gym. It didn’t work.

With 4:23 left in the game LMU had a ten point lead, and we reached that point in an athletic contest when a huge upset is right there for the taking – as long as the underdog continues playing to win, instead of playing Not To Lose. It was painful to watch. LMU got tentative and Gonzaga got aggressive. In little more than a minute the lead was down to four. On its next possession LMU scrambled just to get a shot off before the 35-second clock expired – and with just one tick left Gonzaga deflected the ball out of bounds. One second to get the ball in, hoist up some kind of shot and hope for the rebound. Pretty long odds, given the circumstances. So it was understandable that the place went absolutely bonkers when an acrobatic shot off the inbounds pass…actually went in.

Now it was just down to foul shots, and bless their hearts, LMU made each and every one of them down the stretch. As the last few seconds ticked off the clock, delirium reigned. And when the final horn sounded, pure unabashed joy as the stands emptied in a torrent onto the floor. I could see people hugging and mouthing “Can you believe this?” to each other amidst the pandemonium. Others were taking cell-phone pictures of the scoreboard to preserve for posterity. For the first time in the 29-year history of Gersten Pavilion, the LMU Lions had beaten a nationally ranked team at home – a Top 10 team no less!

The irony did not escape me. Only two hours before I had witnessed completely staged fanaticism which made a sleepy environment seem frenzied on television. And now I knew that there was no way that television could effectively capture the euphoria that spread itself out before me. It was real, it was authentic, and it was just what I was looking for.

I am officially all in on this live sports stuff.