He fell hard. There are no two ways about it. He had seven stairs left before getting to the bottom of the upper student section at the basketball game against Oregon State on Thursday. His legs were not interested in this information. They stopped moving, causing the nameless UCLA student to roll and tumble to the bottom of the stairs into the railing. Thank God for that railing. Laying on the ground, the student was out of sight from much of the crowd above, but not out of mind. The entire section was waiting to see the aftermath of the long plummet. That moment seems to last forever. The moment when a hundred people are simultaneously asking themselves, “Is he OK, can I laugh yet?”
Yes, yes you can.
Ironically, the student thought quickly on his feet, springing up and giving the crowd two enthusiastic thumbs-ups before hobbling off to nurse his wounds. It was an amazing event. He deserves a medal, or at least an ice pack. Since I don’t have either, I hope he reads this column. Thumbs up guy.
UCLA is a big place. There is so much going on around this campus that even with a big net, stories can slip down the stairs and past the news page. These are stories of brilliance, elegance, clumsiness and stupidity that are too amazing to not make it into print. These are stories that deserve to be told.
And for some, these are stories that people need to hear. All sports need fans. But the one thing that doesn’t get mentioned quite as often is how fans depend on other fans to know what they’re doing. If you’re going to pick a cheer to yell repeatedly at the top of your lungs from the upper deck where only other fans can hear you, pick a good one. This was not done by the girl sitting in the row behind me Thursday. For four quarters of basketball, every UCLA possession was accompanied by the shrill refrain of “score points!” I don’t like to be mean-spirited, but that is about as helpful as cheering “play basketball!” or “try to win the game!” Cheering is a skill, just like heckling or carpentry. Passion is good. She definitely had that, harsh and high-pitched as it might have been. But if you know you’re not the best carpenter, for safety’s sake, start with a birdhouse instead of a tree house. In this case, begin with the tried and true “Go Bruins” or “Come on Arron” before freestyling. Training wheels can be a good thing.
And for some on campus, the jump from training wheels to the retirement-home walker happens too quickly. Walking back from class on Friday afternoon, a group of four students were involved in a heated game of bocce ball in the sunken garden. I was lucky to catch the game, crammed into the tight schedule between nap time and Matlock. It was surreal, like watching a reversed version of the movie Cocoon. Four young guys channeling their future retired selves threw clay balls across the lawn like it was a pick-up basketball game. The game played out over the course of the afternoon, knotting a world record, being the first game of lawn bowling where not a single player was wearing Depends adult diapers and not one of them could tell you what life was like before WWI. It inspired me to pick up Bridge and Bingo. I’ll keep you informed on my progress.
There are sports going on all around campus. Hallway orange soccer is exactly what it sounds like. Sometimes these “sports” take place at other sporting events like the informal “yell crew” and “gymnastics” displays at the basketball game, and sometimes they have their own arena. The point is to watch for them, and tailgate when possible.
E-mail Gordon at bgordon@media.ucla.edu for the rules to hallway orange soccer.