A Method to the Madness (Soul Brother Remix)

Last night the NCAA tournament lived up to its billing as the biggest sports roller-coaster ride you can take. West Virginia hit a three to tie their game with 5 seconds left, but then Texas hit a three to win it. Then, there was UCLA vs. Gonzaga.

Gonzaga led the whole game and was up by 17 at one point. The NCAA's leading scorer, Gonzaga's Adam Morrison, had 24 points on the night with 3:26 to play and his team up 71-62. UCLA was on the verge of defeat.

Then the Bruins scored 10 unanswered points to take the lead 72-71. Morrison missed 4 shots over this stretch, and his teammates did no better, turning the ball over and fouling at key points in the final minutes.

On Gonzaga's second-to-last possession, with about 10 seconds left, only down one, and a glimmer of hope still alive for Gonzaga, Derek Raivo dribbled into a crowd at midcourt and got ripped. UCLA's Arron Affalo recovered the loose ball and got fouled, sending him to the line to add nails to the Zag coffin. Gonzaga did everything they could to lose this game.

While the crowd was going berserk and the commentators raving, the madness was in full swing. But, I thought out what I assumed the Gonzaga players and coaches were contemplating: Even if Affalo hits two free throws, we are only down three. We can still send this game into overtime.

That is why is was such a shock for me to look onto my TV screen to see Adam Morrison crying. On the national stage, Morrison fought back tears as we all waited for the UCLA free throw. What?!! I could not make sense of it. There's four seconds on the clock, man! You can't cry now!

In all my years of watching basketball, I've never seen a prolific star cry with the game's outcome still undecided. Not NCAA, not NBA, not in the NFL or MLB, either. My first reaction was scorn. "There's no crying in basketball!" I shouted at my TV.

But soon, I felt a pang of empathy for Morrison. This could be his final year in the NCAA. His teammates failed him. He played excellently for 37 minutes, but couldn't put the game away. The truth was that Gonzaga was collapsing and Morrison knew it.

We expect star players to keep clawing for a win until that last buzzer sounds, or last out is made. That's what the greats do. But, what about us? How often do we get dealt a giant setback and yield to despair prematurely? These athletes are still just men, after all.

Underneath Morrison's trash-talking, dirty mustache (I figured he's gotta be bold to rock that), and fearless scoring all season, I saw that he was altogether human. After the horn sounded and UCLA's comeback was official, he fell onto the court and wept. Some virtuous UCLA players helped him up in the midst of their celebration.

I did what I have never done before while watching sports: I prayed for the dude. We see Jesus so clearly in defeat.

The inimitable Teeftastic posted an uncannily similar thought here. I am justified.