No One Man Should Have All That Power

I do love this man:

I say that without embarrassment or reservation. He is amazing. When I first moved back to Utah, one of the first social things I did was go up to Salt Lake to watch BYU play Utah. I watched him hang 32 points in the first half, including a half-time buzzer beater from about two steps in front of the center line. Maybe you've seen it. Oh you haven't? Well here's the youtube link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XVMMGI2JcI&feature=related

You're welcome. (I realize there are multiple other videos, but the title and soundtrack of this one struck my fancy, so it got picked). Let me tell you a great story about him and about Wingers.

I love the Wingers. Nothing new there. Been to it at least a dozen or so times since moving back, and probably creeping up on the 50 mark in my lifetime. For the game on Friday night, a group of us wanted to go somewhere and watch it together. Our first choice just so happened to be the first choice for about half of Provo. Hour and a half wait when the game starts in 20 minutes? No thank you. Thankfully, we called over to Wingers and they said they could have all ten of us seated about 10 minutes into the game. Bless their souls.

So, we get there, and about half the mall is standing in their waiting area watching the game. People were standing outside the place watching through the window. We were sitting down within 4 minutes of game time. Amazingly, in those four minutes, The Jimmer had already poured in about 16 points. For those who don't follow college basketball, an average player score about 10 a game. A good player scores about 18 a game. A great player scores about 22 a game. Jimmer - 28.5 a game, average. Leading the nation by a wide margin. So, to see him go off for a quick 16 wasn't too shocking, but it certainly was delightful.

It should be noted that the Jimmer had tried to eclipse his own BYU single game record of 48 a couple times that season. He went off for a couple big first halves, but then either didn't the touches, or the minutes to get to the elusive 50 mark. Well, Friday night, he swished a three to get to 47 with about three minutes remaining on the clock. Next possession, he drives the lane, and gets fouled while putting up an off-balance shot.

It drops. 49 and a trip to the free throw line. (First and only free throw attempt of the game mind you. He just is not getting any foul calls any more, and it has lowered the number of times he takes it to the hoop. Effectively eliminated his slash and kick game.) He buries the free throw, and the entire place erupts. I've been in sports bars during big games. I've gone to the local eatery to watch the big UFC fight. Nothing compared to the noise and commotion I witnessed at a Wingers, over a Mountain West Conference semi-final game. Loudest non-stadium sporting event I've ever been a part of.

When coach Rose decided to pull The Jimmer with about 20 seconds or so left (he made another jumper to finish with 52), the entire restaurant gave The Jimmer a round of applause. Yes, we realized that the game was being played some 400 miles away, and that no matter how hard we clapped, he would never hear it. Doesn't matter.

Ask me if I stood while I clapped? You know I did. After a performance like that, I had to. It's like if I saw a pitcher throw a shutout, or someone hit for the cycle. You just have to let them know how positively pleased you are that they personified excellence. They don't know who you are and never will. They don't take in all the individual people's expressions of gratitude, but they do feel the cumulative effect, and I want to chip in what I can.

Can't wait for the brackets to come out. Truly giddy about our chance to make it to the Sweet Sixteen and, fingers crossed, beyond.

Word.