Category Archives: Deportes

Breathing a HUGE sigh of relief

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Jordan Farmar I’m not a nail biter, but if I was, I wouldn’t have fingers.

I’ve spent the last few hours watching basketball. I didn’t care much about Duke losing to LSU, but was glad to see Texas win over West Virginia. Neither one of those games made me feel like I did during UCLA’s game. They started off bad. Not, it was beyond bad. I found it hard to watch as Gonzaga’s lead went from 5 to 10 to 17. But that was the first half, and as I saw on Saturday UCLA plays with more fire in the second half.

My Bruins didn’t fail me this time.

Adam Morrison might still be crying in a locker room in Oakland. Perhaps he should blame Joel (see his comment to this post).

Luc Richard Mbah a Moute provided a shocking ending to Adam Morrison’s amazing season. Mbah a Moute scored underneath with 10 seconds left and the second-seeded Bruins scored the final 11 points of the game to knock out Morrison and third-seeded Gonzaga 73-71 Thursday night to advance to the regional final.

Morrison, Gonzaga’s shaggy-haired star, made two free throws with 3:26 to go, giving him 24 on the night and the Bulldogs (29-4) a 71-62 lead. But the Bruins (30-6) didn’t wilt.

Mbah a Moute scored six of the final 11 points and got a key steal in the final seconds to seal the win and send UCLA to its first regional final since 1997. The Bruins will play Saturday against Memphis (33-3), which beat Bradley 80-64 in the first semifinal of the Oakland regional. The Tigers beat the Bruins 88-80 in November.

Morrison put his hands on his head and leaned over, overcome with emotion, Mbah a Moute stole the ball from Derek Raivio with 2.6 seconds left, fighting tears in what was probably his final game in a Zags uniform. He is expected to turn pro.

J.P. Batista missed a desperation 15-footer at the buzzer and fell into the Zags’ bench, where coach Mark Few helped him up.

When the buzzer sounded, UCLA senior Cedric Bozeman ran around the court with the ball in his hands — Ryan Hollins right with him.

Hollins and Afflalo went to help up Morrison, who was spread on the floor at midcourt. Few then came to hug the crying Morrison. (Yahoo! Sports)

Aquí se habla béisbol

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Mexicanos en grito de béisbol I told Adrian that we would have to leave around 3:30 from Hacienda Heights in order to make it to Anaheim in time for the 4:30 start time of the Mexico vs. US game in round 2 of the World Baseball Classic.

Adrian and I have been to many games together. He’s my brother. He knows I’m not on time.

“Ay, si tú. Showing up on time? What kind of Mexican are you?” he wrote over instant messenger.

I responded, “We need to show up on time. Who is going to stand up when they play the Mexican national anthem? You know all the Mexicans are going to be late.”

My plan didn’t work so well. We were late. Gabby, Adrian, Steve (Adrian’s friend) and I arrived at Angel Stadium around 5 p.m. I think it was one of those things you see because that’s what you expect to see, but I only noticed raza walking toward the parking lot inside the gates of Angel Stadium.

We made our way to the will call window. On the way there we saw dozens of people crowding around to get into the gates. The Mexican fans wore the green caps with a red M, Mexican baseball jerseys, ponchos, huge straw hats, and tied Mexican flags around their necks so it would flow like a cape. Some people had their faces painted in red, white and green.

On the way to our seats, we passed a couple of concession stands. The TV screens showed a replay of what looked like a go-ahead home run off the right field pole. Rather than call it a homerun, the umpires said it was a ground rule double. By the time we got to our seats, Jorge Cantú had hit in Mario Valenzuela for the first of Mexico’s two runs.

In the next inning, the US anwered back with a run of its own when Vernon Wells hit a sacrifice fly and allowed Chipper Jones to score.

Mexico didn’t let the empate (tie) last too long and in the bottom of the fifth inning, they scored once again. Cantú hit another RBI and brought in Valenzuela a second time. The US took out Roger “the Rocket” Clemens soon after. Gabby and I yelled out “didn’t you retire?” as most other fans gave him a standing ovation. It might be Clemens’ last start. I don’t care, I’ve never been a fan.

The next three innings went by kind of quickly. Mexico’s pitchers made it look easy and would get out the US batters out one-two-three.

Meanwhile, fans chanted. Me-xi-co! U-S-A! Culeeeeroooooos! Gabby and I even counted how many times the culeros chant would come up.

By the top of the ninth, Team USA fans were hoping for something to keep their hopes in the tournament alive, and it got close.

With a the pro-Mexico portion of the crowd trying in vain to drown out chants of “USA,” lefty Jorge De La Rosa took over for the ninth and struck out Ken Griffey Jr. before walking Jones and being replaced by righty Luis Ayala, who walked Alex Rodriguez to move the tying run into scoring position. [Johnny Damon pinch ran for Alex Rodriguez after he was walked.]

That brought righty David Cortes out of the bullpen to face Wells, who grounded into a 6-4-3 double play on the first pitch he saw, setting off a wild celebration that featured Team Mexico saying good-bye to its fans with a flag-waving victory lap.

Gabby and I chanted “double play!” and we got it.

It was cool to see Mexico win, even if they only had a tiny chance of advancing in the tournament. The US pretty much needed to win in order to advance over Japan. South Korea was a definite because they won three games.

Mexico eliminated the US from contention in the WBC. I think it’s pretty cool that Mexico eliminated the team from the country that invented the sport. Maybe baseball is no longer “America’s pastime.” Perhaps, it has become “the Americas’ (plus Asia) pastime.” The LA Times writes, “in six games, the U.S. of Jeter, Junior and A-Rod, of Clemens, Damon and Chipper, lost to Canada, Korea and Mexico.”

Mil palabras: Bruins everywhere

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We are the mighty Bruins
Powell (College) Libary, UCLA

No matter the outcome of Saturday’s big game between UCLA (9-1) and USC (11-0), I’ll be satistifed.

There will be no kicking and screaming or a desire to inflict pain on anyone who wears the colors red and gold. I may still cringe everytime I hear that poor excuse for a fight song and hiss at the mere mention of the letters U and S and C in succession.

I also might randomly break into the Eight Clap or songs like “We are the Mighty Bruins,” “Hail to the Hills of Westwood” or “Rover.”

Even though I’m hoping la Tía Macaria will make her ánimas work in favor of a UCLA’s first victory since 1999 (she never heeded any of my requests for miraculous wins in baseball, I don’t think she was a fan), I’m also undeniably realistic and a bit of a pessimist. ‘SC has a 33-game win streak and is ranked 1 in the nation. We’re ranked 12. Still good, but the odds are against us.

Still, at the end of this season I may not have bragging rights for best football team in LA, but I sure will have memories of some exciting fourth quarters.

Go Bruins!

Is that the sound of choking?

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Since the 1998 UCLA football season, I’ve been pretty successful at keeping my hopes in check. This season poses greater difficulty. After I quit the band, I barely followed the games, rarely watched, and never actually attended. Despite the difficulty, I still think 1998 a lot and this morning picked out an old 1999 Rose Bowl tshirt with “’98 PAC-10 Conference Champs” and the Tournament of Roses emblem.

Watching today’s game against the University of Arizona Wildcats feels almost like the infamous Miami game 7 years ago. I’m not even really watching. I’m following the online updates. That might be better. I’d be yelling at the TV wondering why the hell UCLA’s offense can’t get a f****n’ first down and why the defense seems to let Arizona score on every single possession.

Yikes.

I have to admit, watching listening to all the fourth quarter comebacks this season has been pretty exciting, but I’m over the excitement. That was cool when I was 18 and at every home game and we thought we were on track for a national championship. Now, I don’t really care for the kind of game you talk to your kids about and never forget.

You know what games I remeber? The losses. The ones that crushed my hopes — and my trombone.

There’s 6:43 left in the 3rd quarter. Arizona has possession, 1st and 10 on their own 37. UCLA has scored one touchdown. Arizona has six… and a field goal. If you don’t know football, that makes the score 7-45.

I wonder if any UCLA team has ever come from behind from a deficit of 38 points. Probably not.

You know what makes this feel even worse? Arizona is 2-6 and thus far UCLA is undefeated.

With 2:19 left in the game, the score is now 7-52.

I feel sick.

Edit: Final score was 14-52. After re-thinking this, I figure that even if UCLA loses the next two games (Arizona State and USC), we’ll still have an 8-3 season, or even better. It’s not the end of the world. I guess.

Bruin band geek

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Solid Gold SoundOn Thursday evenings while I try to pay attention to my qualitative methods class, I get a bit nostalgic as I listen to the UCLA marching band practice the upcoming field show, pre-game show, fight songs and pop tunes. Instead of being in class discussing ethnographies and researchers’ subjectivity, I’d much rather be on the IM field playing my trombone with all the other band geeks.

It’s been years since I’ve played my trombone and even longer since I’ve been to a UCLA football game. I quit the band mainly because I no longer had the time and because the football games (which take the most time) were no longer fun because the team was losing and embroiled in the infamous disabled placard scandal of 1999.

See, my first year in the band 1998 UCLA football was ranked number 1 in the nation and undefeated until the very end of the season. The quarterback, Cade McNown, was a prime contender for the the Heisman Trophy and UCLA was enjoying an 8 game win streak over our rivals, USC. It was a great time to be in the band, until the end.

Sunday, December 6, 1998

The reason I feel so utterly depressed is because yesterday the UCLA football team lost to Miami. We were previously unbeaten in 20 straight games and were basically 60 minutes away from a trip to Tempe, Arizona for the Fiesta Bowl [for the national championship game]. But the dream season ended in a nightmare as the Bruin defense fell a part in the 4th quarter giving up a lead of 17 points (I think). There were some questionable (or controversial) calls that I think caused us to lose heart and subsequently lose the game. I know that college football isn’t everything in the world, but it feels like it right now.

I was really upset after that game. Our “consolation prize” — normally a great bowl game — was the Rose Bowl. That game sucked too and it was personally tragic. The next season wasn’t much better and the ones after were all quite mediocre. I lost interest and just prayed that basketball season would be better.

Today, I listened on the radio to the last quarter of the UCLA (20) vs. UC Berkeley (10) game. I don’t have a TV right now and the game was only on cable so I was checking online for scores until I found the game on the radio. The Bruins were down 40-35 with only a few minutes to play in the 4th quarter. But then they scored, and when Cal got the ball again they turned it over when the quarterback, Joe Ayoob, threw an interception with 1:19 to play. The Bruins scored another 2-yard touchdown and sealed the upset 47-41.

It’s been 6 years since I’ve been to the Rose Bowl and seriously excited about UCLA football. Hopefully I can take some time out of my busy schedule and head back to the Rose Bowl to relive old times and sing “Rover” (a song we play after every victory) with the band after another exciting win.