Last Shot

 

Sports.

Learn the name Lamont Butler who just sent San Diego State University to the men's basketball national championship game on Monday night moments ago.

Down one, the Aztecs played defense as Florida Atlantic set up a layup to push their lead to three but fate intervened. The Owls' effort clanked around and was rebounded by SDSU.

Earlier, the Aztecs had been down 14 points. But, sports. 

The Aztecs -- a five seed in the tournament -- nibbled away at the ninth-seeded Owls.

And now they were down one with time running out.

Aztecs head coach Brian Dutcher elected to not call his last time out, telling Tracy Wolfson of CBS that he "ran out of plays to call."

Well, in truth, the play had already been called in the previous huddle and Dutcher left it to his players.

The Aztecs pushed the ball. 

The clock ticked.

Butler dribbled and looked for his spot. He worked down near the right baseline. Maybe he'd drive to the hoop?

Nope. The path was well-defended.

He continued his dribble, staying inside the three-point arc.

Somewhere in him, Lamont Butler became the kid in the driveway.

He became the kid in the gym.

He became the dreaming basketball rat.

Oh, you know the one. 

The kid who pretends to be Jim Nantz, calling his own play-by-play as he pulls up for the game-winning buzzer-beater.

Nantz, calling his farewell Final Four, sat nearby. 

Butler, in that moment, became all of us. 

The kid who pretended to catch the winning touchdown.

The one who hit the walk-off home run.

The winning goal as time expires.

The moments of every sports lover's fantasy.

Few know this mountaintop. Kris Jenkins, forever the hero in a national championship game in Houston in 2016, knows it as well as anyone.

And with two seconds to go, Lamont Butler found his spot.

He stopped with the clock showing .9 remaining and released the ball.

From here in Greenwich, it looked like it was going in.

"He's got to put it up," Nantz said.

From there? Chaos. To my ears, the crowd drowned him out. I think, to be fair, Bill Raftery and Grant Hill also drowned Nantz out a bit.

It did sound like Nantz said, "He makes it!" and I'm sure someone will have the transcript.

No matter. Learn the name Lamont Butler. Remember it like you might remember Chris Chambliss, for instance. Chambliss didn't win a World Series with that 1976 home run off my Facebook friend, the late Mark Littell, but he put the Yankees into the Fall Classic.

Now, Butler and the Aztecs get to play for the title on Monday night against either UConn or Miami.

Either way, Cinderella was going to dance into the championship game.

In this case, it's SDSU.

But, on the other hand, consider Florida Atlantic, who allowed that 14-pound lead to disappear, missed the late layup that would have put them up three, and ultimately lost the game. They're heartbroken. That's the reality of this. Winners and, yes, the agony of defeat.

Enjoy the moment. All of it.

Strip out the negativity of NIL, the transfer portal, boosters, the over-marketing of the tournament, and other scandals that surround college sports.

For the moment, ignore that noise.

Simply take it all in. 

A national semifinal buzzer beater immediately gave me a topic for the night.

Why?

Sports.