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We’ve TALKED about these things before, because they are the best things in all of sports except for the moment when your team of choice wins a championship. For lack of a better term, we shall refer to them by whatever means necessary to make it into a family newspaper. Because it’s wrong to simply call them “holy cow!” moments, wrong to call them “holy smokes!” moments.
They are “HOLY [BLEEP]!” moments.
They are “HOLY *#&@#!” moments.
They are “HOLY S–T!” moments.
They are the moments just after you see Duke’s Cayden Boozer with a basketball in his hands, time running out, and you can see that two UConn defenders are trying to goad him into a mistake and not foul him and so all Boozer has to do is 1) hold the ball as time bleeds away; 2) lob the ball to either of two wide-open teammates; or 3) just throw the ball high in the air as the clock expires (although nobody ever, ever does that).
They are the moments after Huskies defenders actually tip the ball away — again, time bleeding mercilessly off the clock — and a UConn senior named Alex Karaban decides not to play the hero, decides to pass off to a freshman teammate named Braylon Mullins — who’d shot one brick after another all day — and Mullins lets it go from 35 feet.
And hits it.
And, honestly, I don’t care if you are a priest, rabbi, nun or preacher of resolute piety; I don’t care if you have just scolded your children for salty language or if you’re thisclose to finishing off your commitment to give up cussing for Lent. The only thing you say in the moment when that ball splashes through the net are the only words you can formulate.
HOLY [BLEEP]/*#&@#/S–T!!!
(Well, unless you’re Danny Hurley’s mom, unless you throw in a bonus word in the middle of those two which we will not try to sneak past the censors.)
Because these are the moments that really are the payoff for all the seemingly endless Yankees-Twins/Knicks-Wizards/Jets & Giants against anyone games that we endure, all in the name of being a fan. Sometimes you see something that legit forces you to your feet to shout at the top of your lungs.
Sometimes you get Braylon Mullins buckling Duke Nation’s knees.
Sometimes you get Christian Laettner doing the same thing against Kentucky (and, ironically, UConn two years before). Sometimes you get a player for the University of Arkansas with the wonderful name of U.S. Reed launching one from half-court at the buzzer and instead of Louisville 73, Arkansas 72, you have a final score of Razorbacks 74, Cardinals 73.
Sometimes you get Lorenzo Charles plucking a ball out of the sky also at the buzzer, sending Jim Valvano off in search of someone to hug in Albuquerque, N.M.
But it isn’t just college hoops, of course. Sometimes Tyrese Haliburton hits the back of the rim, the ball all but scrapes the pinwheel roof at Madison Square Garden, and it lands in the basket like an oil spill in the middle of Manhattan. Sometimes David Tyree traps the ball against his helmet. Sometimes Larry Johnson makes the 3 while he’s hacked in the act. Sometimes Case Keenum finds Stefon Diggs in the last second of a playoff game, and instead of agony there is unremitting bliss in Minneapolis.
They don’t happen a lot. But when they do, you can often refer to them in simple shorthand. Mazeroski. Manningham. The Kick Six. The Music City Miracle. “The band is on the field!” The Miracle of the Meadowlands. Tino Martinez and Scott Brosius on back-to-back nights off Byung-Hyun Kim.
It should be noted that there’s a difference between a HOLY [BLEEP]/*#&@#/S–T!!! moment and an “oh, no/[bleep]!” moment. Boozer’s gaffe contributed to one, but his was an “oh, no/[bleep]!” moment on par with, say, the ball going through Bill Buckner’s legs or Scott Norwood’s kick drifting a few inches wide of its target.
Also: It ought to be required that in order to fully qualify for HOLY [BLEEP]/*#&@#/S–T!!! status, your team needs to win the game in question. Sorry, Jerry West and your half-court heave at the horn in Game 3 of the 1970 NBA Finals. Sorry, Endy Chavez. Sorry, Sean Woods, who hit the ridiculous running bank shot that should’ve given Kentucky a 103-102 win 2.8 seconds before Laettner readjusted history to forever read Duke 104, Kentucky 103.
We’ve seen that as the gold standard of HOLY [BLEEP]/*#&@#/S–T!!! moments for 34 straight Marches. We finally have a successor. And not a minute too soon.
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