If your favorite men’s college basketball team is lucky enough to have won four games and cut down the nets on its way to the Final Four, then you should strongly consider going. If you have the means to buy a set of tickets — which isn’t easy, believe me — plus can stomach the sky-high hotel and food expenses, than you have the opportunity to go and experience a remarkable, once-in-a-lifetime event.
I was blessed to have already gone to one Final Four before I considered going to this year’s in Dallas. Three years ago, when I was a senior in high school, the University of Connecticut made the most unexpected of runs to the Final Four in Houston. And while my parents were at first reluctant to take me, they relented after persistent pressure and we were Houston-bound a few days later.
The rest was history. Kemba Walker led UConn to a national title with two spectacular performances and the Huskies lifted the National Championship trophy with confetti falling and the group of blue-clad UConn fans laughing and crying and hugging whoever they could get their hands on, no matter who they were.
It was an experience I have never forgotten, which is why I was so quick to jump on an opportunity to go to Dallas for this year’s Final Four. This time, though, I wasn’t going with my parents. Four high school friends who graduated with me and are now all at Connecticut bought a huge package of student tickets and gave them to other friends who had been too late to pick up a ticket themselves.
When one of their friends turned them down, they called me on Wednesday afternoon to see if I was interesting in going. Before I could commit to anything, though, I had to work out my schedule and figure out what, if anything, I would need to bring with me in case I had homework to do.
Luckily, I caught a break. My teachers assigned a light load for me over the weekend and the softball team, who I cover for The Pendulum, was playing on the road. I knew it was late notice, but I knew UConn had taken care of reservations for the students with a ticket, so I called my friend on Thursday afternoon and told him I was in.
I left after my noon class had let out and at two, I boarded a plane at Raleigh-Durham airport bound for Dallas. When I got there, I rented a car and drove to the team’s hotel in downtown Dallas, where the UConn fans and students would also be staying.
I checked in and spent the entire rest of the day in my room, watching TV and tracking the progress of my UConn friends, who were being bussed down and wouldn’t arrive until Saturday morning.
When they finally got to Dallas, we walked to Tournament Central, where the ESPN set was located, and stood behind analyst Jay Bilas, making obnoxious faces and waving in a feeble attempt to see ourselves on the broadcast. It didn’t work, but I was satisfied with our valiant effort.
When the segment had ended, host Rece Davis walked with Bilas off the stage and past the crowd toward the media tent. To their credit, both stopped and signed a few souvenirs and posed for a few pictures.
When Bilas walked in front of me, I quickly took advantage of my fortune and asked if we could take a picture. I’m proud of myself for not hyperventilating in front of my favorite studio analyst.
We spent the hours leading up to the game downtown, perfectly satisfied with walking around among fellow fans and gawking at the various sites around us.
About an hour and half before tipoff, we strolled over to Jerry World, the Dallas Cowboys’ gorgeous home stadium, which was as amazing and awe-inspiring as it appears on television.
We walked into the stadium and all stopped in our tracks. None of us had ever seen a video board as enormous as the one hanging in the air at Cowboys Stadium. I was so in awe of it that I continued to stare at it as we walked to our ground-level seats, causing at least ten near-collisions with fans walking in the other direction.
https://twitter.com/BJRains/status/452123136855511040
But it was the game, and the atmosphere around me, that made the trip worthwhile.
Being packed in with hundreds of other blue-clad UConn fans in a claustrophobic four-row section was an experience like no other. By halftime, I was drenched in sweat, had no voice left, and had 20 percent battery on my phone. But I wouldn’t have traded my feeling of pure, unadulterated joy for anything.
As the game wound down and Connecticut pulled away, I jumped up and down, yelled a lot, and hugged my friends and total strangers, who I would probably never see again.
https://twitter.com/KyleMaherEU/status/453373616701599744
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to go to the championship game because of the price of the ticket (imagine a piggy bank being broken), so I flew back to North Carolina the next day.
But I’ll never forget my time in Dallas. I don’t think anyone standing around me will either. It’s one of those moments that you can’t explain to those who weren’t there. You just have to go and experience the exhilaration yourself. Believe me, it’ll be of the most memorable moments of your life.