Sometimes things just don’t work out the way they’re
supposed to.
Things invariably happen in life that we’re not ready for,
things that test our resolve as humans, our ability to
overcome.
Alisa Lewis was not supposed to die, that’s for sure.
Healthy 20-year-olds are not supposed to die.
Sadly, however, the fact remains that Lewis, a junior forward on
the California women’s basketball team, died Jan. 19 due to
bacterial meningitis. Her death shook the women’s basketball
community, forcing people to put things in perspective ““ to
realize that basketball is a game.
It certainly shook the UCLA program.
Coach Kathy Olivier gathered her team around at practice
following the news of Lewis’ death. The players passed around
a picture so they could identify the face with the name. The mood
was somber.
“If that happened to somebody on our team, I don’t
think I could even stand up straight,” guard Nikki Blue said.
“It would be like losing a sister.”
Lewis’ death forced the Cal team to stand up and endure,
to assume the unenviable duty of remembering their fallen teammate
while trying to maintain some semblance of normality in school and
sport. The Bears are faced with a responsibility I would wish upon
no one.
But they’ve carried on. The team held a memorial service
Jan. 22, and decided together to make this weekend’s
scheduled trip to L.A.
Too emotionally drained to put up much of a fight against USC on
Friday, Cal regained its focus Sunday at Pauley Pavilion. The Bears
were an inspired team, a motivated team ““ they looked like a
team destined to beat the Bruins.
Then again, things don’t always work out the way
they’re supposed to.
Though UCLA won the game, Cal won my heart.
Signs of Lewis were everywhere Sunday. Cal players had patches
on their left sleeves that read, “A.L., 31″ in pink,
Lewis’ favorite color. Each page of Cal’s press release
read, “In loving memory of Alisa Marie Lewis
(1983-2004)” at the bottom. The team’s media guide
included two full pages devoted to Lewis. It’s so hard to
look at that bright, smiling face, a face that once held so much
promise, knowing that she is gone. There was a seat on the Cal
bench that looked conspicuously absent.
And I didn’t even know the girl.
So I sat there yesterday and watched. As Cal got down early, the
team’s pain was palpable. It looked to be another bitter
disappointment for a team that had endured enough disappointment in
the past few days to last a lifetime.
Then Cal began to play well. As the Bears held the lead late in
the game, it looked like there would finally be a ray of light in
the darkness that had consumed the team.
“They played with a lot of heart,” Olivier said.
But things didn’t happen the way they were supposed to.
Blue made the game-winning lay-up, which must have been like
another stake through the hearts of the Bears.
It was just a sad moment. The band was playing, Bruin fans were
jumping up and down, but the forlorn faces on the Cal bench spoke
volumes. This game would’ve meant so much to the folks in
Berkeley. It would’ve been a great story.
But such is life and death, and death isn’t fun for anyone
to deal with. Neither is losing, and you can’t help but feel
for the Bears. I rode the emotional roller coaster with them for 40
minutes of basketball, and then I got off. But for these Cal
players, this is now their life.
Before Sunday’s game, there was no moment of silence, at
the insistence of the Cal players.
“Too emotional,” Cal coach Caren Horstmeyer
explained.
Too emotional, indeed, because it just wasn’t supposed to
be like this.
E-mail Regan at dregan@media.ucla.edu.