Tuesday, November 24, 1998
Even beating ‘SC starts getting old after eight years of
dominance
COLUMN: Yet another pitiful performance by Trojans raises
question: Will they ever win?
That was certainly anti-climactic. In the wake of the 34-17
shellacking of USC, I look back upon the day that was supposed to
be the biggest in the history of the crosstown rivalry with a tinge
of disappointment.
My disappointment stems from the performance of USC, because I
am by no means let down by the performance of our football
team.
The UCLA football team whooped some ass and played the game that
they set out to play. Anytime a Heisman candidate is not needed to
play a big role in the destruction of an opposing team, you know
that the winners played a hell of game.
The defense came up huge, with four sacks from Brendon
Ayanbadejo, two forced fumbles from Marques Anderson, and two
fumble recoveries from Jason Stephens.
But freshman phenom DeShaun Foster was the big story. Foster
froze the Trojan defense for 109 yards and four touchdowns. And
this was after a hospitalization on Saturday night due to a severe
case of strep throat. This is the stuff that legends (and future
Heisman Trophy winners) are made of.
So how could I be disappointed?
Well, I arrived at the Rose Bowl on Saturday morning with
expectations of seeing a competitive game (and having one hell of a
tailgating party, but that’s another story). I left with a feeling
of resentment.
I mean, is this even a rivalry anymore?
After eight years of utter domination, it’s getting kind of old.
At least they could have put up a fight.
The feisty, loudmouthed quarterback-receiver duo of Carson
Palmer and R. Jay Soward didn’t prove a thing. Sure, Palmer is a
freshman, but that doesn’t excuse him from being immature.There was
just no way that he was going to take us out of the Fiesta.
Our party plans are still set for Jan. 4 in Tempe, Ariz. USC’s
bowl hopes look to be in the Sun, Aloha or Holiday Bowl.
Whoopee.
When UCLA plays USC, it’s God vs. the devil.
Everybody is rooting for the Bruins, and the Bruins always win.
We’re the cowboys, they’re the goons. UCLA is the Empire, and USC
is the Rebellion.
For the past seven years, we squeaked by Southern Cal and have
earned the title of "City Champions," but this year we proved more.
UCLA has officially earned the crown, "King of L.A." Los Angeles is
a Bruin town.
And it was a piece of cake. It was as sweet as a plate of yams
with extra syrup. But it was as boring as C-SPAN at 3 a.m. on a
Friday night.
We took their little football and rammed it down their throats.
We manhandled their little quarterback like the Red Sea crashing in
on the Egyptian army.
A battle of epic proportions? In a way, yes. It was billed as
such, but it ended up being as epic as Vanilla Ice’s reincarnation
as a punk rocker on his new album.
USC did not come to play, plain and simple. Even superstar Chris
Claiborne only had two decent plays.
When a team turns the ball over seven times, it’s obvious that
they have no right being on the same field as a national
championship caliber team.
Sitting in the student section, I was more hyped up for this
game than on my sixth birthday when I was getting a new Castle
Grayskull. I couldn’t sleep for 113 hours leading up to this
matchup.
I was actually giving USC credit, assuming that they could step
up their play a couple levels and at least deter us from trampling
all over them like the bulls in Pamplona.
What a farce. An utter joke. A complete waste of eight claps and
chants. In an ideal world, I would have seen ‘SC play a competitive
brand of football and challenge us, put our backs against the wall,
and make us show why we deserve a berth in the showdown for all of
the chips.
I would have liked to seen a Cade McNown bomb to Danny Farmer
with no time remaining in the fourth quarter. I would have loved a
come-from-behind victory.
The Trojans, being the perennial losers that they are, couldn’t
provide the Bruin faithful with the excitement that we wanted.
But at least we went home with a victory.
Lovett is currently on tour, promoting himself for the Heisman
Trophy as well as signing copies of his autobiography, "I Am the
Man: Plain and Simple." He can be reached at
[email protected] Lovett
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