Homers' Corner: More Than One Shining Moment

Illustration by Jennifer Universe.

I am never not listening to ‘One Shining Moment.’ I’m talking about the Luther Vandross version, of course. I don’t mean this literally. I don’t have a Spotify playlist setup to play the official March Madness anthem on repeat for all hours of the day. I mean this in a similar way to how we often talk about the writing process. This idea that a writer is never not writing even when they are not writing because everything is part of writing. It’s a ridiculous approach to the process, but it does have some truth to it, and I can say as a writer, if I am never not writing, then I am also never not listening to ‘One Shining Moment.’

I have also never experienced March Madness the way it was meant to be experienced. Not until now, anyways. I didn’t know this truth about me until now. I grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota and never really latched onto the hometown Gophers when it came to college sports. I enjoyed them and wanted them to succeed, but no one in my immediate family went to school there, it always felt like they were playing second fiddle to the professional sports teams I fell in love with in my hometown, and when it came time for me to go to college, it turned out I was not exactly Golden Gopher material (Fuck you, U of M admissions!!!). 

My biggest thrill of each college basketball season came in the moments a new champion was crowned. I loved watching the players crying and hugging each other in a sea of school-colored confetti. I loved watching them climb the ladder one at a time to cut down their piece of the net to hold onto forever. I especially loved the final moment of the presentation, the moment CBS cut to Greg Gumbel in the studio to present ‘One Shining Moment.’ 

Are there better songs than ‘One Shining Moment’ in the history of music? Yes, there are. But do any other songs in the history of music capture the unity of sports and storytelling quite like ‘One Shining Moment’? I don’t think so. It may be cheesy as hell, but it’s been making grownups cry since 1987 so don’t second guess its power.    

The ‘One Shining Moment’ video has always been my favorite part of March Madness because, until recently, it was the only moment of the tournament where my emotions moved me somewhere beyond a casual fan cheering for their bracket picks to pan out. It felt like the only moment I was granted permission to share in the absolute wild emotions, the euphoria and the heartbreak, of those who had a more emotional stake in the tournament. Do you remember Dunk City? Or the first legendary chapter of Steph Curry? Bryce Drew? Mario Chalmers? Do you remember Khalid El Amin? Or The Michigan State Flintstones? Christian Laettner’s perfect game? Dwyane Wade walking on water? Do you remember the Villanova flute player playing her final notes through tears after the Wildcats were upset by NC State? 

I loved all of these incredible moments of March Madnesses past, but outside of the annual 2-minutes-and-58-second-log video, they’ve never felt like they belonged to me. No March Madness moments have ever felt like they belonged to me. 

Until now, my friends. Until now. Now shit has gotten really real. 

I’m often asked how I ended up at Oregon State University. It’s a fair question. There’s not exactly a pipeline of students from the Midwest finding their way to the Willamette Valley. I didn’t have any connections to the school, I was not an athletic recruit, and I didn’t know a soul in the whole state. 

I could have gone elsewhere. Not too many other places as I’ve already pointed out (re: fuck you, University of Minnesota), but I had a few options that all would have been easier. The only true answer I have to the question is from the moment I opened my acceptance letter there was something calling me to the cozy college town of Corvallis.

It won’t surprise anyone to know a co-editor of this sports journal wanted to go to a big school where major college sports played a big part of the campus culture. Oregon State provided such an opportunity, so I packed my bags and arrived on campus just in time for the Beavers’ best four-year stretch in school history...on the football field. 

Beaver football gave me plenty of moments of euphoria, and a handful of opportunities to rush the field during my time as an undergrad. Reser Stadium was the biggest party house in Corvallis and it was rocking, but its neighbor across the street, Legendary Gill Coliseum, home of Oregon State men’s and women’s basketball held all the same energetic exuberance of a morgue. 

The men’s team playing my first love was particularly frustrating. It’s not that they were bad. They were historically bad. They were impossibly bad! They were 0-18-in-conference-play bad! They were so bad that making the NCAA Tournament didn’t even appear in my wildest imaginations. By the time I graduated, I had even given up on the dream of ever seeing them play in the fucking NIT. 

Things didn’t get much better over the next decade. While Scott Rueck took over as the women’s basketball coach in 2010 and quickly turned the program into one of the best in the country, the men continued to struggle. They improved a little bit under Michelle Obama’s brother Craig Robinson, to the point of not finishing dead last anymore at least. Then improved a little bit more under current coach Wayne Tinkle and ended a 26-year NCAA Tournament drought in 2016. 

As recently as a couple weeks ago, that season looked like a flash in the pan. The Beavers were picked to finish dead last in the Pac 12 at the start of this season and through December it appeared that Tinkle and his team were dead set on proving everyone right. Then the tide started to turn. 

In January the Beavs played okay. 

In February they played a little better. 

By March they played their way to a No. 5 regular season finish, earning themselves a bye in the first round of the Pac 12 Tournament and also a proposition from the basketball gods: Win three games against three damn good teams and go to the big dance, lose one and go home. 

There was no way in hell the Beavers could pull off consecutive wins against UCLA, and Oregon, and Colorado, but no one gave them that memo and that’s precisely what they did. In the conference’s history, an Oregon State team had never won the men’s conference tournament championship. Until this team who were supposed to finish last in the Pac showed up and decided to win the whole damn thing instead. 

As my alma mater’s run has continued deeper into March than it ever has before in my lifetime, I can feel all the signs of discomfort that come with unfamiliar territory. Every play feels preposterously big. Every shot feels like it’s for the game. Every foul call against the Beavs feels like the height of cruelty. Anyone watching me watch these last five win-or-go-home games has seen a human being in full-on crisis mode. Thankfully for Beaver Nation, the team has looked like the complete opposite of myself. 

It’s difficult to come up with one reason why the Beavers are doing what no one outside their locker room believed they could do. It’s the steady, unassuming leadership of seniors Ethan Thompson, Zach Reichle, and Roman Silva. It’s the lockdown defense of Warith Alatishe who can seemingly cover all 94 feet of hardwood at once. It’s Jarod Lucas’s unconscious jumper and it’s Gianni Hunt’s electric energy, finally harnessed after a mid-season assignment from Coach Tinkle to study jazz piano to help calm him down. 

It’s OSU’s all-time leading scorer/Tinkle’s son Tres playing the role of super fan with the rest of the Tinkle family in the crowd. It’s all the former Beaver ballers who helped lay the foundation for what is now taking place seizing the moment to finally brag about their school on social media. It’s the thousands of Oregon State group chats made up of friends who sat through every game of that 0-18 season and still can’t quite believe what’s happening. 

For me, this has felt different than any other sports run I’ve experienced. Not better, just different. I think it’s part of what’s great about college sports. Many of our favorite teams become our favorite teams through circumstances we can’t help. The proximity to where we’re born, or who our loved ones cheer for as we grow up with the game. College is a choice. For some reason, I chose to cross the country to a strange place called Corvallis when I was 18 years old. Corvallis is Latin for “Heart of the Valley,” and because of a decision I made 15 years ago, this scrappy ass team from Corvallis is stealing my whole heart on this emotional ride that I hope never ends. 

The Beavers weren’t supposed to power their way past Tennessee. They certainly weren’t supposed to send No. 1 NBA Draft pick hopeful Cade Cunningham and Oklahoma State home early. Now they face Loyola Chicago and Sister Jean. A team with Final Four pedigree and potentially a higher power on its side. Whatever. 

No matter what happens the rest of the way, Oregon State has ensured this year’s ‘One Shining Moment’ video will hit differently. It’s been a long time coming. Decades and decades filled with moments of frustration and falling short have led to this improbable matchup in the Sweet 16. It doesn’t matter who can believe it or not. It’s happening. 

The ball is tipped and here we are, Beaver Nation. 

Here we are.