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The truth is, Scott McEwan reminds you a lot more of John Friesz
than John Elway. His game is more Musgrave than Montana.
And yet, there he was, trotting onto the field late in the
fourth quarter with a chance to put the finishing touches on a
masterful comeback that he’d engineered. He looked cool and
confident, determined to finish what he started. The fairy tale
ending looked within his reach.
It hardly seemed possible that this could be the same
quarterback who started the second half. That guy looked as if he
were in way over his head. That guy made a deer caught in the
headlights look self-assured and decisive by comparison.
McEwan, forced into duty with starter Cory Paus nursing a thumb
injury, looked incredibly rusty and overmatched in his first
series. To be honest, he looked an awful lot like a quarterback who
hadn’t taken a meaningful snap all season. This probably had
a lot to do with the fact that he hadn’t.
Short of a visit from McEwan’s fairy godmother, the Bruins
weren’t going to dig themselves out of a hole that deep.
McEwan’s misery would culminate with an ill-advised
floater that landed in the hands of the Cardinal’s Luis
Hobson for an interception. But while the turnover would lead to a
Stanford field goal, it also lit a fire under McEwan. Staring a
daunting 31-7 deficit square in the face, the Bruins’ backup
signal-caller righted UCLA’s fast-sinking ship.
On the next series, with a big assist from DeShaun Foster,
McEwan marched his club down the field. The fifth-year senior still
looked a bit uneven, hurling incompletions right and left, but he
stepped up when it mattered most. On the 15-play, 65-yard scoring
drive, he would complete passes on three straight
third-and-ten’s and hit Craig Bragg over the middle for a
first down on a crucial fourth-and-two.
DANIEL WONG/Daily Bruin Senior Staff Scott
McEwan attempts a pass during Saturday’s game against
Stanford in Palo Alto.
McEwan went right back to work on UCLA’s next possession;
only this time, he was the one doing the heavy lifting. With a
gaggle of Cardinal blitzers barring down upon him, he hit Ryan
Smith on a quick, three-yard slant that ended up going for 32
yards. One play later, McEwan lofted a ball perfectly to tight end
Mike Siedman down the middle of the field for a 23-yard touchdown.
It was the kind of throw that wins morbidly obese stuffed animals
at the County Fair.
Despite McEwan’s third-quarter heroics, the Bruins’
hopes were still twisting in the wind. But UCLA’s super sub
would step up again, both for his team and in the pocket. McEwan
lobbed another beauty down the middle, this time the ball touched
down in the arms of a streaking Bryan Fletcher for a 29-yard
score.
As Fletcher raced into the endzone, McEwan roared, pumping his
fists as he leapt into the air. He looked like the frenzied frat
guy who’s just won a brand new Rosewood dining room set for
guessing the actual retail price of Snuggle fabric softener on
“The Price Is Right.”
It was plainly obvious that McEwan was a long way from that deer
caught in the headlights. He was the one at the wheel now, bearing
down on the opposition. UCLA trailed Stanford by just a field goal,
31-28.
McEwan would then get his chance to win the game, as a Matt Ware
interception got him the ball back for one last hurrah. He trotted
onto the field oozing confidence. Little did he know, the fairy
tale was about to end.
A fourth-down heave to Ryan Smith had a little too much pixie
dust on it. The pass sailed a few yards beyond the receiver’s
outstretched arms. And UCLA’s defense promptly turned back
into pumpkins, allowing Kerry Carter to score the game-clinching
touchdown for the Cardinal.
“We did come back,” McEwan said after the game,
“but we just ran out of time. If we had another two minutes,
maybe things would have changed.”
Maybe, although you get the feeling that neither time, Elway or
Montana could have changed UCLA’s fate on this day. Short of
a visit from McEwan’s fairy godmother, the Bruins
weren’t going to dig themselves out of a hole that deep.
Remember Scott, not every story can end happily ever after.