GATORS COLUMN

Gators' Dreams Come True On Magical Night

By JOEY JOHNSTON

Published: Mar 5, 2007

INDIANAPOLIS - Confetti popped loose and rained on the court. Florida players collapsed into a group embrace. Joakim Noah went up into the stands, searching for his father, mouthing some words.

"Am I dreaming?"

No, this was real. In the heartland of basketball, Billy Donovan's Florida Gators became the resounding champions of college basketball on Monday night. They shoved aside a legendary program. They swatted away the game's greatest aura. They dunked on tradition.

And it wasn't even close.

For anyone who ever crammed into the old Alligator Alley, for everyone who endured the days of ridicule and NCAA scandal, for people who resented the insinuation that Gator hoops was just the school's athletic afterthought, for all those who wondered if such a magical evening could ever be possible, the RCA Dome's golden scoreboard numerals shined like a beacon.

Florida 73, UCLA 57.

Chomp, chomp.

The Gators were king. The mighty Bruins were teddy bears.

Before returning to UF's regularly scheduled programming - spring football - Gators everywhere should give thanks for this new athletic tradition. Winning basketball. Championship basketball.

These Gators - unranked and unheralded when the season began - will walk together forever. And this is only the beginning.

Legends In The Making
In the stands, UCLA legends Bill Walton, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Reggie Miller sat glum-faced. Longtime Gator fans and former players were arm-in-arm, rocking back and forth. Many fought back tears. Vernon Maxwell would have been there, too, had he been permitted to cross state lines.

"This was so much fun," said Noah, who had 16 points, nine rebounds and set an NCAA championship game record for blocked shots with six.

These Gators gave UF fans a month-long joyride. And as the journey evolved - from the SEC Tournament in Nashville, Tenn., then to Jacksonville, Minneapolis and finally to John Wooden's old stomping grounds in Indiana - one fact came into focus. This was no fluke. This was a well-orchestrated plan. At times, it was a machine.

This was a basketball program.

"Now all of a sudden, Billy can coach again, huh?" Gators athletic director Jeremy Foley said.

He can indeed.

Donovan had taken considerable heat after failing to lead the Gators out of the NCAA Tournament's opening weekend for five consecutive seasons. One word - underachievers - was constantly linked to the Gators. And even when this tournament began, few were predicting the Final Four, let alone a championship.

The Fun Bunch
From the beginning, these Gators were easy to love.

Gone were David Lee, Anthony Roberson and Matt Walsh, most of the scoring, nearly all of the expectations.

Left behind were four sophomores, an eclectic ensemble of mismatched parts.

In no time at all, we would learn this group actually was a perfect fit.

Noah, all arms, legs and bushy ponytail. Al Horford, strong and silent. Taurean Green, the pure point guard. Corey Brewer, electrifying, but unfinished.

"We're so different," Noah said. "Yet, our stories are the same."

In France, Noah tried tennis, but hated it, then found his way on a basketball court. Green and Horford, sons of NBA players, naturally gravitated to the game. Brewer, on his north Tennessee farm, didn't have much use for it.

"But I kept growing," Brewer said. "I would dribble around by myself, just living that dream of winning a championship, not really knowing where it was all going to lead."

It led to Florida.

It led to a team that began 17-0 - everyone said that prosperity could never last - then things really picked up steam. The Gators slammed their way through the postseason, winning the SEC Tournament and never looking back, not once. And it ended with the team's customary balance - four players scoring in double figures, senior Adrian Moss contributing nine, all in the first half.

When Foley took a chance on a 30-year-old Donovan in 1996, he envisioned a new culture of basketball at Florida. "Why not us?" Foley said. "Why can't we be champions in basketball, too."

Truth be told, this was the best story ever in the state's college athletic history. Football is a religion. But even it can't approach the passion of March, the evolution of a team, the moment when the glory becomes spectacularly clear.

As the seconds ticked away, Noah yanked on his jersey. He wanted everyone to see the word - "Florida."

Basketball champions. It was real.