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The Road Ends Here: A Students Perspective on Final Four Weekend

The game clock on the massive scoreboard in the middle of the Mercedes-Benz Superdome was at thirty seconds and rapidly decreasing. Six levelsup in the nosebleeds, almost exactly center with the court, I proudly joined

my fellow members of Big Blue Nation in standing and ravenouslycheering. I panned my surroundings. The expressions ranged from thosegleaming, ear-to-ear grins of the Kentucky faithful to heartbroken looks ofdespair on the faces of those clad in Louisville red and black. I couldn'thelp but talk even more trash then. This was a rivalry game, after all.

Ten seconds were left now. Victory was well at hand. The Civil War hadbeen won. Knowing the 69-61 outcome was practically written in stone, theminiature players were at a standstill on the raised court.

I didn't hear the final buzzer. It was engulfed by every Kentucky cheerimaginable. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the free Final Four seatcushions that sat in every one of the Superdome's 76,468 seats before thegame being thrown like frisbees by Kentucky fans into the air. They knewthey weren't going to need those cushions. They'd be back on Mondaynight for the National Championship game. There'd be another opportunityto claim those cushions. For the Louisville Cardinals and their large, loud,and spirited following, however, the road ended here.

The Road Ends Here. That seemed to be the slogan of the 2012 Final

Four Weekend. Everywhere I looked around the city of New Orleans, I'dsee it. The Road Ends Here. It was on lanyards, banners, and shirts. It waseven on the Superdome court. The Road Ends Here. I first saw the phraseon a banner as I made my way into the Superdome Friday afternoon tocatch each of the four teams' open-to-the-public practices. With the warmLouisiana sun pounding on my neck, I took note of the banner and itsslogan. Ironically, the place where the road ends is exactly where my roadbegan.

I was surprised with this opportunity to head to New Orleans the Mondaybefore when my friend offered me a spot on an RV that his father and afew of his friends had rented for the occasion. I filled the last spot. Like theunderdog team that surprises everyone with a run to the Final Four, I was

just happy to be there.

Final Four Friday continued that "we're just happy to be there" sentiment.Fans of each school, myself included, put Saturday's looming showdownsto the side, and focused on taking everything in. Instead of intensely

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watching Louisville's practice and making detailed notes about possibleweaknesses Kentucky could exploit, I was scanning the sidelines andpress area. The Superdome was littered with sports media icons that I hadonly read in newspapers or seen on TV. Instead of talking trash to theCardinal fans in my vicinity, I cheered on my friend's father, a Louisville

fan, as he participated in a musical chair/layup challenge on theSuperdome floor, and laughed hysterically when he was the first oneeliminated. Even at night, when we made our way to Bourbon Street, thecrowd didn't seem hostile. Granted, there were enough chats from fans ofevery team to drive someone insane, there was no over-the-top trashtalking that I saw. It was just an overall sense of pride for what the fourschools had accomplished in the crazy month of March. Even a heavydose of rain didn't put a damper on spirits. Everyone was just happy to bethere.

Waking up on Saturday morning, I still had that "happy to be here" feeling.That didn't last long. While eating breakfast in the French Quarter,highlights from the 1983 UL/UK Elite Eight matchup, "The Dream Game",came on the TV showing ESPN College Gameday, a college basketballpregame show. Suddenly, that "happy to be here" feeling was gone. A "winor go home" came over me. It was time to get serious. It was time to beatthose dirty Cardinals.

Things got even more serious when my friend's father informed us that hewas getting us tickets to the game. I had planned on finding a sports bar to

set up camp, and watch history be made, but this announcement quicklycancelled those plans. I was going to be in the Superdome. I agreed tohelp my friend mow grass for the summer, but I was going to be in theSuperdome. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

The proceeding events all seemed to happen in fast forward. The walkthrough BracketTown and the Coke Zero Concert Series, the walk back toBourbon Street to claim our tickets, and the short break at the RVcampground all happened in a flash. Before I knew it, I was in mythrowback Kentucky shorts, grey Kentucky basketball shirt, and 1996National Champions hat headed up the Superdome ramp. Through thedroves of people making their way into the arena, I saw the banner again.The Road Ends Here.

The excitement that seemed to be overtaking my senses was subdued bya sense of awe. Was I really about to witness a Final Four game? Am Ireally about to watch the biggest game in Kentucky history in

person? Waiting in the line for security, I was ready to burst inside the

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arena. I had to get inside. I had to get away from the Ohio State fan,whose yell of "O-H" every time fellow Buckeye fans crossed her path werelike fingernails on a chalkboard. The anticipation was slowly killing me.Once through the doors, my friend and I bolted up the ramps to oursection. I didn't care that our seats were in one of the top sections. I didn't

care that my friend was decked out in his Louisville gear. I was inside. Thatwas all that mattered.

By the time we made it to our seats, game time was just around the corner.I booed as loud as I could when the Cards, glowing like traffic cones in theinfrared uniforms, took the court. I confidently cheered on my Wildcatswhen they followed. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I was nervous.The possibility of Kentucky being on the wrong side of the scoreboardwhen it was all said and done haunted my conscience.

Then came The National Anthem. I don't remember the singer's name, butI remember the silence that overtook the arena. The sold-out crowd wassilent. Rivals and enemies, UK and UL fans stood united. The silence gaveme chills. My thoughts drifted back home, to Kentucky. As divided as thecommonwealth was about to get, citizens everywhere had to have felt animmense sense of pride for their home. No matter the outcome of thegame, the commonwealth was already a winner.

The song ended. An eruption of cheers came from the Superdome crowd.As the starting lineups were introduced and the teams took their places for

the opening tip off, nobody left their feet. At this point, they were wellaware that the road does in fact end here.