San Diego State won another basketball game last night, another close game, a game they had no business losing, a game they had no business winning.
A quick summary: the Aztecs trailed by seven in the first half against Washington, led by three at halftime, built a lead as large as 12 with under five minutes remaining – at which point I started texting my friends things like “we are methodically breaking their will” – and still led by seven points with 55 seconds remaining.
This is what I mean by a game they had no business losing.
Washington cut the deficit to one point with seven seconds left, forced a jump ball that gave them the possession, Huskies forward Paul Mulcahy missed a potential game-winner, but the referee on the opposite side of the court called a controversial foul with one second remaining.
Mulcahy missed the first and made the second to force overtime. The Aztecs trailed by 4 points right away in the extra session and Washington scored on its opening six possessions.
This is what I mean by a game they had no business winning.
But Jaedon LeDee kept answering with buckets and free throws, Lamont Butler drained a 3-pointer, they finally got a defensive stop after the officials reviewed and overturned an out-of-bounds call, LeDee scored the go-ahead basket, Butler stole the ball from the Huskies best scorer, and after two free throws, Washington missed a game-tying 3-pointer at the buzzer with a controversial non-foul call.
Never a doubt.
San Diego State spent roughly 91% of its existence, and roughly 78% percent of my life, as the university that found a way to lose. Even when the team showed promise, I refused to allow myself to truly think about positive outcomes because I didn’t want additional disappointment.
Now, the men’s basketball team just finds a way to win. I’ve come to expect it, while still not believing it. Whether it’s the Aztecs making a shot, or the opponent missing a shot, or the referee blowing a whistle, or swallowing the whistle, it’s really uncanny.
The rationale side of my brain thinks the following:
The best teams don’t win the close games. The best teams beat their opponent easily; and when they lose, they just barely lose.
Close games even out over time. So will this.
It’s been over a decade now. It’s not a fluke. It’s not a small sample size or a statistical anomaly.
Since the 2010-11 season, the Aztecs have the sixth-best winning percentage (.761) in the nation, trailing just Gonzaga, Kansas, Duke, Arizona and Kentucky.
Since the 2019-20 season, the Aztecs have the third-best winning percentage (.824) in the nation, trailing just Gonzaga (.909) and Houston (.846).
The Aztecs home arena is filled with banners that are the result of these close games that culminated in triumphs. We’re talking about hundreds of different players and opponents, different arenas, different scenarios, and different stakes.
Admittedly, they haven’t won them all. Roughly 18 months ago, the narrative was the Aztecs had lost their winning mojo, blowing (if we’re being nice), or choking (if we’re not so nice), close games at critical times, especially in the postseason the last few years.
Even during these painful losses, I never stopped believing the Aztecs would win. When they lost, I was genuinely shocked. When they won, I truly expected it.
Other than eating leftovers, I’ve never done a 180 degree turn on anything in my life more than my expectations for San Diego State basketball. If you’re part of Aztecs Nation, you’re no doubt nodding your head and saying, “me too.”
The Aztecs had their moments of fleeting glory in the mid-to-late 2000s. But it was the 2010-11 team that put the Aztecs on the national help and convinced their fans it was not just OK to believe, it was so much more fun to believe.
That year, I wrote about how the “I Believe That We Will Win” chant was more than just a chant. Even if the chant was stolen or borrowed from others, it completely transformed the way Aztec fans felt about themselves and their team.
At the time, I didn’t know how long it would last. I was just enjoying a magical season.
Twelve years later, I’m at the Final Four in Houston with my friends – San Diego State is at the freakin’ FINAL FOUR and I’m there with my closest college friends – and the Aztecs are down a point with less than a minute and don’t have the ball. My friend Ferris, seated, calmly says, “we’ll get a stop, then make a shot, and win the game. It’s what we do now.” I nodded in agreement.
That’s exactly what happened.
We got the stop. Butler hit the game winner at the Buzzer. We lost our minds in delirium. And the best part was we believed it would happen.
Part of being a SDSU alum is living with a chip on your shoulder. It’s a State school. It’s not in a power conference. San Diego is in the shadow of Los Angeles. SDSU was (or still is) the backup plan if you don’t get accepted to UCLA or Cal or whatever out-of-state school is more desirable.
That’s all of what makes it so damn satisfying.
The Aztecs aren’t supposed to consistently beat every team in California and the Pacific-12 Conference, win more frequently than North Carolina, have better luck than the Irish, and sure as heck weren’t supposed to keep winning for 13 straight years.
But here we are, winning games we should win, winning game we should lose, getting all smug and cocky and writing obnoxious posts that are essentially bragging about all the winning.
It’s been a long time – a very long time – but my favorite professional teams did win a championship in my lifetime. None of them provided me the sheer joy and pride when the Aztecs win.
I don’t know how much longer the Aztecs will keep winning like this.
But I do know that I’m never going to take it for granted and I’m always going to keep believing they will win.