I had a feeling this would be, by far, the most difficult column
to write in my four years at UCLA.
It’s not for a lack of things to say ““ I’ve
been known this week to talk at length with complete strangers
about UCLA’s chances tomorrow at the Rose Bowl, even when
they don’t really want me to.
It’s just that thoughts and emotions have been flying
through my head faster than the Bruins fell behind 14-0 last year,
as sudden as that USC field goal turned the tide in 2000, more
confusingly than the baffling 17-7 loss of three autumns past.
And that makes for a column that appears similarly confused.
When I came here as a freshman, they made it sound like beating USC
was as ritualistic as Thursday nights on Gayley and construction on
campus.
So forgive me if I’m still trying to figure things out
here in this newspaper. If you’re a senior, you probably
understand. If you’re not, well, I hope you never have
to.
Three years of losing will do this to you ““ three years of
this year being the year, of envisioning what it will be like to
jump up and down with 0:00 on the clock and our guys ahead and no
worries and plenty to tell my Trojan friends come Thanksgiving.
“Sure, we’ll get around to beating them,” we
promised people. Heck, we promised ourselves it would happen.
Yet it hasn’t. And still, I’ve been asking myself
questions all week.
ACHTUNG! Column attempting to take a dramatic turn for the
humorous.
The thoughts that have been scurrying about:
Is it socially unacceptable to drink a beer at 7:30 a.m ““
you know, just to get a head start?
What if said drinking takes place in the shower?
That probably doesn’t make it any better.
How much would it hurt if a goalpost fell on me?
Aren’t they hollow?
I heard they butter them down.
You can’t be arrested for telling a little kid with a USC
shirt that he’s been woefully misguided by his possibly pagan
parents, right?
How did Carson Palmer manage to get what seems like 12 years of
NCAA eligibility?Â
Was the Mafia involved?
Was Todd Marinovich involved?
Isn’t every Todd Marinovich joke funny, no matter how
stupid it is?
If an ‘SC fan puts a two-finger victory sign within five
feet of my face, it’s considered self-defense if I grab at
his/her digits, right?
Should I consider taking a fifth year if the Bruins don’t
win?
Man, I’m scared.
How many turnovers are we gonna need?
Three sounds about right.
What’s more important: that Drew Olson’s never
played USC, or that he’s never lost to USC?
Pepper spray won’t hurt if I close my eyes in time,
right?
Even if it does, running to go take back the Victory Bell would
be worth it.
So who’s gonna buy the first victory round at
Maloney’s tomorrow night?
See, the hope’s still there. Call it foolish, pathetic,
call it whatever you want, but it’s definitely there.
!PELIGRO! Column moving back to wistful sobriety.
I was talking to a good friend from USC on Instant Messenger
last week, and he started telling me how, “we need you guys
to beat Washington State.”
You know, so they can get to the Rose Bowl.
“Well,” I responded, “we need us guys to beat
you guys.”
You know, so we can get to the Rose Bowl. Keep in mind,
there’s that most improbable scenario where Washington beats
Wazzu and the Bruins win out. And go to the Rose Bowl.
But it remains just that ““ improbable ““ so I started
to type to him, wishing all the best.
“If we don’t go to the Rose Bowl, I hope you
guy-“
I couldn’t do it. Not this year. Not with no more years
left.
Remember that special someone you always liked and yet never
worked up the courage to tell, never in four years of high school?
How he or she still sticks around in your conscious, showing up
every so often, making your head shake slowly left and right and
your mouth take on that grimacing, what-could-have-been smirk?
Well, we’re there. Tomorrow. Obligatory
sportswriters’ hyperbole aside, what we seniors are facing is
a last chance to avoid a lifetime of questions, to sidestep an
eternity of ridicule.
Here’s hoping we go out winners and never shake our
heads.