Reminiscing 1978
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Updated 12-13-99
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A Jump Shot Away From the Final Four By Kirk G. San Roman
My personal memory is of being an eighteen-year-old freshman, watching the Arkansas game in the bar of the long-since closed "Gilhooly’s Pub," at the brand spanking new May Co., Brea Mall, where I worked as a salesman. Of course I should never have been in the bar in the first place. But in a coat and tie, I looked much older than my eighteen years. I remember feeling quite grown up as I sipped red wine with my much older work friends, who were in their early twenties, and hunkered down for the game. I had been raised in Fullerton, and had attended some Alex Omalev and Bobby Dye coached games while growing up. But to be completely honest, I hadn’t attended a game in a couple of years, and none that season. At the time, things like concerts, girls, politics, playing sports, and hanging out with my friends were much bigger priorities in my life (and my wallet). Not two-bit college games. Coming out of high school, I had neither the grades nor the desire to attend a big time school, like some of my friends. I was quite content to attend college locally, and I briefly flirted with the idea of attending Long Beach State, just to be different. I later abandoned this idea out of shear laziness. It seemed pointless to make the 30+ minute commute to and from Long Beach every day, when I could have a five minute commute instead, and come home and watch TV in between classes. The allure of being different held less sway than the appeal of saving money on gas, to use for more important things like… beer, and Ramones tickets. However, my decision to attend Fullerton seemed like a good one in March of ’78. Greg Bunch, Kevin Heenan (from nearby El Dorado HS), and a cast of similar overachievers had beaten San Diego State, and Long Beach State to win the PCAA tournament (lower case "t"), and earn a berth in the NCAA Tournament (capital "T"). Like most southern California males my age, I had grown up watching the Tournament with a sense of excitement each year, mainly due to UCLA’s dominance. The ’78 NCAA Tournament was extra special because my city, not just my college, was to be represented. Our first game was against the University of New Mexico Lobos, led by Michael Cooper. The Lobos, at that time, were the pride of the Southwest, and wore flashy red, silver, and turquoise uniforms, similar in style to the Miami Floridians of the ABA. I knew this team very well, because my Uncle, who still lives in Albuquerque, has been a die-hard Lobo basketball fan and season ticket holder since the early ’70’s. He regarded then-coach Norm Ellenberger, as something akin to the Messiah. I was all too familiar with how tough UNM was, and frankly, I anticipated an early exit for the Titans. Imagine my surprise and delight when we pulled out a 5-point win. More shocking, our little school of David’s pulled off another upset against the Goliath’s of then-powerful USF, led by Bill Cartwright. We were now up in the thin air - The Great 8! In those pre-cable days, there was only the local and network news. The network news almost never had a sports story. On the local news, sports was only allotted two to three minutes of precious air time. College sports were rarely given much coverage, and if then, it was only USC or UCLA. (I’m not so sure that this has really changed after all of these years). Anyway, Cal State Who? started getting some television coverage, and UCLA unexpectedly got knocked out of Tournament early. Suddenly Fullerton was big news. I was ecstatic! Sunny optimism reigned when I took my place at the bar that evening. We were to face Eddie Sutton’s Arkansas Razorbacks, who were led by Ron Brewer and Sidney Moncrief. One more victory, and we would be off to college basketball heaven, The Final Four. Even though we were down at halftime, I wasn’t fazed. After all, hadn’t we come from behind in the other games? And sure enough, we battled back. With less than two minutes to go, we took the lead! But there was still an agonizing amount of time left, and Arkansas had the ball. We needed a miss, and a rebound. Unfortunately, what we got was a bomb from Ron Brewer that hit nothing but the bottom of the net. However, there was still time on the clock, we were only down by one point, and most importantly, we had the ball! What happened next is still a blur: I remember Keith Anderson driving in the paint, but in my memory I see him throwing up a shot that rolled off the rim. When I read articles about that game, they say that he was stripped of the ball in traffic. In any case, I thought he was FOULED! Arkansas came up with the ball, and scored a basket as time ran out. Cal State Fullerton had lost by the preciously narrow margin of 3 points. I left Gilhooly’s feeling numb. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was preparation for the future highs and lows of supporting Cal State Fullerton athletics. Whatever the reason, I was now solidly a Titan… forever! |
