They led cheers from on top of the scorer’s table, climbed into the stands to hug their parents, danced on the court, hoisted a trophy, cut down some nets – and did so with more joy than just about anyone that had done it before.
If ever a college basketball team deserved to revel in all the glory a championship can bring, the Florida Gators did in 2007.
Repeating is hard enough, but doing so with the exact same cast, with every opponent casting a giant bulls-eye on you, with everyone knowing that a national championship was the only satisfactory outcome, made this NCAA crown something extraordinary.
When, 12 months ago, Florida did precisely the same thing in Indianapolis, two consensus thoughts emerged...

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They’ll hold a fit and proper celebration Sunday in Chavez Ravine. The Dodgers that once belonged to Brooklyn marked the 60th anniversary of Jack Roosevelt Robinson’s historic entry into the major leagues.
More than any athlete in our annals, Jackie is a genuine American hero. His courage in 1947 and beyond, standing up to this nation’s terrible curse of racism with dignity and an immeasurable resolve, paved the way for the civil rights movement and opportunity in a way not even he could have imagined.
Look at things now. We have Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith on the sidelines, coaching in the Super Bowl against each other. We have Oprah, using her vast wealth and cultural influence to do good deeds, like building schools in South Africa...

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At the dawn of the 1970s, we were in some bad straits. The ugly denouement of the civil rights movement, from both sides of the racial divide, along with the uglier specter of Vietnam, helped put us in those straits. And the shenanigans of Nixon and his men were about to make things even rougher.
Caught up in all the chaos, and tormented by his own demons, Marvin Gaye put out that era’s defining musical statement with “What’s Going On”, asking a plain question which carried no ready answer.
Everyone remembers the title song, for good reason...

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To anyone who really cares about this coarse and mean profession called journalism, the death of David Halberstam in an automobile accident on April 23 was a deep and profound wound.
I can confess to not having many role models in this line of work. Woodward and Bernstein, perhaps, for dogged pursuit of the truth of Watergate. John Feinstein comes to mind, too, for personalizing mythic figures of sport, from the basketball court to the golf course.
For the most part, though, I have found that the top names in our business are like the top names in any other business – full of good qualities, perhaps, but also plagued by self-serving ego, at times as insufferable as the men or women they intend to bring down.
David Halberstam did not suffer from this foolishness...

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