You're not making the news tonight, ladies

I tell it to every perspective college student who asks, the best part about going to school in the Philadelphia area is having so many other colleges to go hang out at if you get bored at your own. I never, ever believed myself when I said that. I rarely even make it over to Haverford for a party, let alone Nova, St Joes or Penn. Having the option to go to the other schools and putting the effort forth are two totally different things. Sometimes you would just rather spend the night at the awkward acapella after party than head downtown to a frat party.

I like to think that I'm connected to the other colleges in the area. I go to Penn and Haverford for classes. I follow the Philadelphia college sports teams, just out of habit really. If I hear that someone at an area college has a highly contagious bacterial infection I freak out, knowing that somehow it will make it's way to Bryn Mawr. The bottom line, however, is that I go to school in fake Philadelphia. This limits my "area colleges" to the fake Philadelphia colleges of the Tri-Co (The Mawr, The Ford and Swarthmore) and Nova. 

I've spent quite a bit of time over the past four years making fun of Nova. How can you not? They are most likely the most opposite school you can find to Bryn Mawr. They hang out on their balconies along Lancaster Ave throwing stuffed chickens at you so that when one hits you and you pick it up to see what the hell just hit you they can yell "HEY! TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF MY COCK!" (true story). They scatter like flies when the police raid their underaged drinking parties at the apartments next to Bryn Mawr while we stand there and laugh...hard. 95% of the time I spend thanking my parents for never taking me on a college tour of Nova. 

That other 5%, however, is spent watching Nova basketball. It's no secret that Tri-Co athletics are far from top-notch (although a Swarthmore basketball player's picture was featured in an Onion article a few weeks ago). At Bryn Mawr we had a student score 35 points in one basketball game to secure the record for most points scored both in one game and all time at Bryn Mawr...and no one came to watch. Everyone was too interested in watching the freshman talent show instead. It's upsetting, but in the words of my friend Megan 'NOT EVERYONE LIKES BASKETBALL, MARIANNA!" Long story short, people don't care about basketball in my little college world. 

I love college basketball, I could watch it for hours. As much as I love to make fun of Nova, I can't deny that one mile up the road is one of the best college basketball programs in the country. As much as I hate those guys that throw chickens onto the street or simply throw up onto the street, I can't help but be jealous of the pride that they have in their team. So secretly I became a Nova basketball fan, following their scores throughout college, always rooting for them to do well. 

Then I met a die hard fan and I couldn't stand this particular person (who may or may not read my blog so we have to be careful here) and their peppiness. There's being a fan, and there's being obsessed. Suddenly I found myself rooting against Nova. I wanted them to fail and I wanted them to fail hard! I wanted to see this person's facebook statuses go from filled with joy and pride to being filled with rage and heartbreak. No offense meant towards this particular person, but for some reason those statuses drove me insane. 

Selection Sunday came and I filled out my bracket. As much as I wanted Nova to lose I just kept putting them forward to the next round, before ultimately having them lose to Pitt in the Elite Eight. I think I filled my bracket out more on social needs rather than personal preference. The idea of spending a Saturday afternoon at the bar with some beer and basketball was appealing to me. Secretly I wanted American to destroy them in the first round, a victory for both the mid-major teams and my elitist attitude towards Nova. 

But they kept winning, cruising through the first two games (although American did give them trouble) and making it to the Sweet Sixteen. I didn't even bother watching the game, I figured Duke would beat them and that would be that. Instead Nova crushed Duke by 23 points, sending them to the Elite 8. I knew I had to take advantage of this "college" moment and go up to the bars on Lancaster Ave to watch the game against Pitt. 

I recruited Nicky and together we skipped up to Kelly's, chosen because of it's plethora of televisions. We probably should have gone down to Ardmore to Brownies where more students apparently were, as Kelly's was A) Expensive and B) Filled with alums, rather than students. Still a good crowd though. For the first half hour there was awkward standing around waiting for the game to begin. I accidentally elbowed a guy who spilled part of his beer. There was a standoff as he clearly wanted me to buy him another one, however his glass was still 87% full, so I wasn't going to buy him a new beer. He also was about 50, clearly had a job and could afford another beer. It was awkward though. We found ourselves a good standing spot and set back to watch the game.

Nova jumped out to a quick 10 point lead. The place was rocking. Everyone was feeling pretty good about themselves. I have a 20 point rule, in which I won't stop worrying until my team is ahead by 20 points. Then I will smile a bit. The rest of the bar regretting not following my rule as right before halftime Pitt went on a run and ended the half up by two. The bar was silent. People were stunned. Television crews flooded the bar to get reactions for the news that night. Fox 29 came up to me and Nicky because 'We're students who actually looked like we were watching the game' (Translation, you're the youngest legal drinkers in the bar who are sober). Unfortunately Nicky and I provided choice quotes such as "Well it looks like it could go either way at this point" and "the crowds good, kinda quiet now that Nova's down....let's hope they pick it up". The look on the reporters face was epic. It was clear that our "eh, whatever happens, happens" responses were not what they were looking for. A guy overheard us and told us quite frankly "You're not making the news tonight, ladies". 

The second half started and it was ugly. Nova's shots weren't falling, but really neither were Pitts. Then suddenly it got really good. Baskets were traded, the score was never more than 3 points apart. Nicky was yelling "I WAS RIGHT! IT COULD GO EITHER WAY!". In front of us a small man (I mean small, he was tiny) was flipping out after every shot. Over in the corner a group of alums were getting their kids to yell "Let's go Nova *clap clap clapclapclap*" The camera crews would turn their cameras on to get reaction shots right after baskets, blinding everyone in the room. People stopped drinking, I think this was the strangest phenomenon. About 5 minutes into the second half people just stopped getting new beers. Everyone was too transfixed by the televisions to get more beer. This was a very good thing as it would have gone flying at numerous points. 

The clock was winding down and there was still no definite winner. Every shot that Nova made was treated like the winning shot. Every shot made by Pitt was the shot that drove the nail into the coffin. The extremes of emotions were incredible. With about a minute left Nova went up by 4, a two possession game. People in the bar were hugging, jumping, celebrating. I was panicking. Are they kidding me? A minute is plenty of time to score 4 points. Then I realized, this is what it's like to have a winning team. When it looked like Nova was going to choke at no point did anyone say "typical Nova". People were POSITIVE that Nova was going to win with one minute left. Years of Princeton basketball games have taught me that there is always plenty of time to choke. I've always wondered what it was like to have confidence in a team to pull it out in the final minutes. Everyone at the bar seemed totally convinced that there was no way we were losing this one.

Then with five seconds left, Pitt tied it up. The bar was dumbfounded. How can this happen? How can we lose in the final minute? Five seconds to get the ball up court and make a basket. Five seconds to make that shot that will be played over and over and over again every March. To make the One Shining Moment montage at the end of the tournament. 

Everyone held their breath as they went to inbounds the ball. One bad inbounds and Pitt could steal and score the winning basket, easily. They get it in and a tricky maneuver gets the ball to Scottie Reynolds, apparently the guy you want to have the ball. He plows through what seems like the entire Pitt basketball team and scores a layup. .5 seconds on the clock, the bar is going nuts. I'm jumping up and down. Nicky's screaming WHOA!!!!! We're high fiving all of the characters that we had spent the night making fun of. Pitt inbounds the ball, takes a long three that really was scarily close to going in, time runs out, chaos. They reply the shot and it just gets better and better. 

Nicky and I leave the bar to go get a celebratory ice cream sandwich at Hopes and I am shaking with adrenaline. Inside Hopes the workers are listening to the radio, they jump up to ask us if we saw the shot. Everyone has giant smiles on their faces. This is fun, this is awesome. No one really knows what to say. We get our sandwiches and start walking down Lancaster. Like we did when the Phillies won. Like we did when Obama won. This year has been good to the Philadelphia area. Shouts of  FI-NAL-FOUR! FI-NAL-FOUR! echo from the apartments above the shops. Cars are honking, people are hi-fiving. Alright, Nova, you win this round. This week...you guys are kinda cool.