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# It ain’t called March Madness for nothing
- URL: https://www.smdp.com/it-aint-called-march-madness-for-nothing/
- Published: 2007-03-30T15:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-24T23:46:57.000Z
- Author: Jack Neworth
- Tags: Opinion, Westwood, #archive-import

MINDFUL OF THE EXPRESSION, “There’s nothing older than yesterday’s news,” I’m writing this the day after UCLA defeated Kansas to reach the Final Four of the NCAA Basketball Championships. The game was so tense and hard fought... forget the players, I’m a wreck.

In case you’ve been on another planet for the past three weekends, on Saturday, UCLA plays Florida in Atlanta, with the winner moving on to the championship game on Monday. (This means March Madness actually ends in April, but it’s a minor flaw.) After I finish this I’ll prepare for the big game. This includes getting dip and chips lined up, and thumb exercises to be limber with the remote.

My obsession with UCLA basketball started when I was 5\. My father took me to a game in the old gym decades before Pauley Pavilion was built. I remember being frightened by the loud gun that signaled the end of the half and the game. (Obviously, not destined to be an NRA member.) My father and mother were part of the first class on the Westwood campus in the move from where L.A. City College currently sits. In those days, Westwood was a sleepy village. Today it’s a noisy metropolis.

For me, watching a UCLA tournament game can get very tense. Forget high def, I need a TV that monitors blood pressure. If it gets too high, it would automatically switch to the Home and Garden channel. Watching live can be so stressful I’m hoping to get Blue Cross to pay for TIVO.

I generally watch alone because my excessive rooting drives everyone crazy, even Oscar the golden retriever. During the regional finals last year against Gongaza, when UCLA won at the buzzer, I went so nuts Oscar hopped up on the couch, trembling. When I tried to pet him for reassurance, he pulled his head back as if to say, “Next time, let’s watch the Animal Planet.”

In years past, I would ride an exercycle as I watched the games. But during the 1995 championship, when UCLA beat Arkansas, I burnt up a tire.This year,I’ve watched some of the games while working out in our building gym, but it’s a little embarrassing to be yelling at the screen while people on the treadmills and stairmasters look at me in puzzlement.

Wherever I watch, I always have the VCR running as backup. (Sometimes two in case one fails.) This way, if it gets too tense, I can turn off the TV and watch after I know the final score. I tell friends, “I can’t wait until the game is over so I can watch it.” Even though I already knew the score, UCLA- Kansas was so close that even watching on tape made me nervous.

> “I can’t wait until the game is over so I can watch it.” — Wherever I watch, I always have the vcr running as backup. (sometimes two in case one fails.) this way, if it gets too tense, I can turn off the tv and watch after I know the final score. I tell friends

When I can’t stand the suspense of not knowing the score live, I sneak peeks. I have televisions in the living room (big screen), the bedroom (24”) and the kitchen (12”). If the news is “good,” meaning UCLA is ahead or catching up, I stick with whatever TV I’m in front of. (Obviously, my “lucky” TV.) If it’s in the kitchen, I wind up doing dishes or chopping vegetables. But if the game suddenly goes badly, I hurriedly switch to another TV, leaving a pile of chopped vegetables. (I realize if I were ever subjected to a sanity hearing, this could be very damaging. I’m hopeful any such hearing would come after basketball season.) The NCAA tournament began in 1939, the brainchild of the coach at the University of Kansas, Phog Allen. (Phog? Actually, his real name was Forrest.) In the tourney’s 67 years, UCLA has won the championship 11 times and reached the Final Four 17 times. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I can name every one from memory.

UCLA’s legendary coach John Wooden won 10 of those championships. At 96, Wooden has hip problems and trouble getting around, but is more lucid than I am, which on some days isn’t saying much. Wooden is featured this week in the HBO documentary, “The UCLA Dynasty,” covering the glory years 1964-1975\. I’ve seen it twice already. I know, I need to get a life. I’ve tried. It hasn’t worked.

But sometimes, in a philosophical mood, I wonder... if my father had taken me to an SC game when I was 5, would I root for the Trojans? (Unlikely since my two favorite teams are UCLA and anyone playing SC.) Or... if my parents had voted for Eisenhower instead of Stevenson, would I today think Bush is a good president? Philosophical, schmilosophical — monkeys would sooner fly out of my... well, you get the point.

As you read this, the big game against Florida is less than 24 hours away. To me, if UCLA loses, it won’t be the end of the world. Just close.

*Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on March 30, 2007.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/033007.pdf?ref=smdp.com)