So, what did I miss? A quick scan of the world I return to,
following five months in Southeast Asia, reveals many interesting
developments.
Where did this Paris Hilton come from? Was she in a movie or
something? Britney and Madonna kissed?! We caught Saddam Hussein.
Britney and Madonna kissed?!
Of course, the biggest story of the last half of 2003, I heard
plenty about across the pacific.
Singaporean: Hey you’re from California right?
Me: Uhhhh, yeah.
Singaporean: (laughing)
Me: Yeah, yeah, I know.
Singaporean: (inevitable horrible Arnold-as-governor
impersonation) “This is Governor John Kimble.”
And what of UCLA sports?
Singaporean news coverage of Bruin athletics was disappointingly
bare, sometimes just one meager segment in a show. Of course,
interest spikes in the spring for crew season, as Singaporeans are
big fans of paddling (Yeah, I’m groaning too).
Seriously though, no scandals? No (major) arrests? Could I
really miss an entire quarter where the biggest controversy was
Olson v. Moore, which rivaled the Democrats’ primary race in
its ability to rouse a gigantic yawn from the public?
Football really didn’t have a bad year, especially for a
first-year coach ““ just not an entertaining one. We won the
games we should have won, and lost those that we should have lost.
At least with basketball, they spice things up by substituting a
win against Arizona for a loss to Northern Arizona.
Of course, the football season’s “highlight”
was the now-annual rite of passage of incorporating the new
freshman class into the cynicism of the USC “feud.”
ESPN columnist Bill Simmons points out that in order to have a
“rivalry,” both sides have to win. I missed out on the
annual sportswriter privilege of bemoaning the humiliation, so to
make myself feel like a real columnist I will take a belated
stab.
The Game, or whatever it’s called, has come to resemble a
date with a girl way out of your class (not that I know anything
about that). There is potential for the greatest score of your
life, but you have to pull off the perfect night, which is hard
because you’re severely overmatched. You’re headed into
her territory (a chick flick), and her ambivalence indicates
she’s treating you as a free meal and ab ego boost. By the
appetizer, it’s turned into a joke, and you spend the
duration feebly fighting an uphill battle well after the outcome
has been decided.
Finally, the game ends with the notorious consolation hug (22
points) that translates to “Nice try, but the fantasies stop
here.” You return home to the wrath of your friends whose
biting questions only make things worse, especially since your
confidence is still stuck to her shoes.
The fallout from this disaster continues to your next date as a
girl from a significantly inferior league stifles your offense to
164 total yards and only 11 first downs.
Thus, the tired analogy ends with a loss in the Silicon Valley
Bowl, an unspectacular football season and a battered ego.
Even the saving grace of most autumns, a national championship
in another sport, failed to transpire. Men’s water polo,
men’s and women’s soccer, and women’s volleyball
all had superb seasons but bowed out deep in the playoffs. At a lot
of schools, these sports’ accomplishments would warrant
acclaim, but for better or worse, UCLA demands championships in
these sports for praise.
So the scorecard on my absent semester reads: zero
championships, zero off-field embarrassments, a thoroughly mediocre
6-7 football season, and saddest of all, another graduating class
0-4 against USC.
All in all, I guess I didn’t miss much. Then again, did
anyone tape the VMAs?
Ben pleads for no more questions about Singapore regarding
gum or caning. You can chew! E-mail Ben at
bpeters@media.ucla.edu.