Calling all fans: appreciate the Bruins

Calling all fans: appreciate the Bruins

Chris Schreiber

Don’t get me wrong ­ I’m as excited as anyone that our
men’s basketball program will hoist another banner toward the
rafters of hallowed Pauley Pavilion.

I was in Seattle. Watched the games, lost my voice, contributed
amply to the Seattle economy because of a 24-hour willingness to
raise a glass to the Bruins.

I came, I drank, I celebrated. I was Caesar of Seattle. And Lord
knows I, just as thousands of Bruin fans, was damn happy the Bruins
won.

But put the win in perspective for a second. Head coach Jim
Harrick has been uncommonly wise during his oft-tentative tenure in
Westwood ­ not for the wins and losses, but for his
perspective on success. He knows it can be as fleeting as
popularity. One third of the fans, he reasons, are true. Another
third are fence riders, and another third hate you no matter what.
Pretty fair reasoning.

Assuming that every fence-rider fell to the greener side during
the last three weeks and that even some of the haters grabbed a
pom-pom, it has been easy to get swept up in the joyous mob
mentality.

Without passing judgment on old and new arrivals to the
bandwagon, I offer a plea: at least be happy for the right reasons.
Someone screamed at Harrick as he entered the Marriott, carrying
the trophy, "How do we look for next year?"

Hello? Your team wins the national championship and that same
night people are asking you to stop enjoying it? C’mon. This team
was special. So appreciate the elements that made it not only
better, but better because it blended basketball talent with
quality personalities. They don’t come around too often.

Be proud that the dozen players and four coaches that will wear
rings for Monday’s victory got them for being more than just a cut
above the rest of the college basketball world. Be proud that those
players and coaches draw strength from the quality of their
character, that their success is the result of who they are as
people.

Don’t take for granted how special this group truly is. Final
Four MVPs do not flat-out refuse praise and then deflect it
elsewhere in the middle of thundering applause. Brothers do not
often have an opportunity to embrace amidst the din of a
championship celebration. Men with reconstructed knees do not reach
the pinnacle of achievement every day.

Coaches here talk about their wives, their faith, their love of
each other. The team’s star player talks of his child, keeps a
video camera running to replay the moment for him years later. The
injured star is showered with praise despite sitting out virtually
the entire game. Reserves accept their roles because trying to win
a championship is worth it.

This was a team. From Harrick on one end of the bench to trainer
Tony Spino on the other. Don’t talk of the potential for a dynasty,
relish this title for the players involved. Understand that they
became the best-conditioned team in the country because they ran
more sprints than we could hope to count.

Know that these guys are students, too. They go to class and
talk about graduating, a far cry from some programs. Keep in mind
that most of the team would voluntarily stay after practice to work
on their game, every day. Then remember the assistant coaches who
shagged the balls.

Then appreciate the banner, the ring, the trophy. They are the
tangible manifestations of selflessness, focus, family, dedication,
resolve, hard work, desire and character.

And that, in a nutshell, is what this team was all about.