As I stood (jumped? screamed? lost my mind?) on my chair in the front row of the Villanova room watching Villanova defeat the Oklahoma Sooners with the largest margin of victory in a final four game ever, I was awestruck. My disbelief was not only because of the pure talent and skill that the Wildcats displayed on the court. It was not even because of Jenkins’ insane full court pass to Mikal Bridges that left the entire stadium, the entire Villanova room, and likely Mikal himself asking if it had actually happened. It was not because, at the end of the game, my best friend turns to me and goes, “We can actually win this. We deserve to win this.” And it was not even because Villanova was able to keep Sooner star Buddy Hield, who had been averaging 29 points per game in the tournament, to a mere 9 points during the most important game of his tournament run. Despite all of that, my disbelief was simply because I was beginning to realize what a national title would mean to this university.
Ask any Villanova student to give you a single word to describe their school, and I’d bet any amount of money that the majority of students would respond, without hesitation, “Community.” It’s what we are, it’s what we do, and it’s what makes this campus such a wonderful, special place. We’re a small school with large school perks, as many like to say. I can walk anywhere on campus on any given day and see dozens of friendly faces, but also faces of complete strangers. Villanova is large enough to leave me feeling like I have so much more to do and see at the end of each semester, but small enough to feel like a second home.
As a small school, the title means so much more to us than to the UNC’s or the Oklahoma’s of the world. We attend classes with these players. We eat meals in the same dining halls, we live in the same residence halls. They aren’t elusive celebrities, but real students and real people that we see on a daily basis. And on top of that, it seemed like the world was against us. The critics thought a Villanova victory was a pipe dream. We were the small school, the underdog, the school that was known for second round exits from the tournament. But then we won. And advanced. And continued to advance, with mostly sweeping victories, to the title game.
The thing is, our success is not surprising to the student body. We know what this team is capable of, and we know what they represent to us. We have wholeheartedly believed in their success regardless of past tournament performances. Our passion and support was not diminished by early exits from the tournament; if anything, it was strengthened. Our student section is always packed to the brim at every single home game. Our love for Jay Wright and his beautiful suits is steadfast. We have had faith from the beginning, and this season our faith finally paid off.
Standing in the pavilion on Monday night, my heart racing like it never had before, I did my best to take in every moment of the experience. My whole school was together, united by a common goal and a hunger for a title. We had come so far and did not even consider a loss because we knew we didn’t have to. The title was 40 minutes away if our team could play the way it had for the duration of the tournament. And despite a rocky first half, they did. They fought hard against one of the best college basketball programs in the country, a team that thought their title was in the bag. They were so sure of a win that they decided to ignore the last 4.7 seconds of the game, the best 4.7 seconds in the history of Villanova basketball. Because in those 4.7 seconds, Ryan Arcidiacono displayed good character and sportsmanship, Kris Jenkins displayed his prowess and epitomized the talent required of every Villanova basketball player, and Jay Wright displayed his cool patience and class. In those 4.7 seconds Jenkins nailed a beautiful 1, 2 step three point buzzer beater to clinch the first Villanova national title since 1985.
The only team to have a better tournament run than the 2016 Villanova champions were the 1985 Villanova champions. What a way to end the perfect season.
