This is how a heart breaks

[This is how a Heart Breaks, Rob Thomas]

Last night there were no tears.

It was shock. Disbelief. I went to my bed and in the quiet and dark obsessed over the final three minutes of the game. How did we not score possession after possession?

Then the what ifs... What if Raivio had hit that three? What if Morrison had made that jump shot? What if Batista had gotten the call when they stripped the ball? What if Knight hadn't fouled out? What if...

What if we hadn't lost.

I didn't sleep well. You can say it's just a game but I love it. Love the sound of sneakers squeaking and balls thudding off the floor quickens my heart. Shaggy haired college boys (and bald ones- always gotta have love for the shaved heads too) putting an orange ball through a skinny little rim puts a smile on my face... and much yelling into my throat. So when the team of my heart loses... it's a major let down.

How do you lose a game that you were up in by 17 and dominated the entire time? How does the team that sucked it up all night score the last 11 points, going from down by 9 to winning by two? How does the team in major foul trouble have no one foul out and the team with almost no foul trouble have a key player foul out? How does someone like Adam Morrison miss a shot that he hits 95 out of 100 times?

Watching Ammo laying at center court sobbing last night just caused me to stare blankly ahead, absolutely stunned. Driving to school I was somber but empty. Then... reading the stories, seeing the main page of ESPN, the cover of the Spokesman at home... *sigh*

Loving Gonzaga is like loving a boyfriend that will cheat on me. Yet I can never turn away. Right now my heart is a thrashed mess barely palpitating on the floor. In November I will excitedly tune into every game possible and be excited like it's the first time I've ever seen them play (with or without Ammo). Come March they will likely crush my spirit again.

Sometimes life is just like that.