Derrick Tuskan, Photo Editor

It’s so hard not to feel.

It’s so hard to look people in the eyes for three years, to talk to them during their moments of true joy and utter sadness, to ask those questions that reveal their true character – and not to feel.

When you cover a sports team, when you spend your life writing about someone else’s, when the words you pour onto paper have the power to uplift and to shoot down, you form a bond.

Hard not to feel? Think impossible.

As I sat on my friend’s couch watching the last few minutes unfold, every part of me wanted to be there. I wanted to be in the Huntsman Center with my pen and my paper and my recorder.

I wanted to ask the tough questions, the “How do you feel right now?” questions, the “Sitting here right now, would you rather have been blown out?” questions.

I wanted to pry. Selfishly.

I wanted to know, to really understand, the psyche of a team that had the expectations of a legion of fans weighing on them.

I wanted to look Brandon and Marcus and Mohamed, and Trimaine and John and Mohamed No. 2, and Richie and Matt and Kyle, and Tim and Brett and Chris right in the eyes.

My two eyes staring into their 24.

In an interview, you see, the eyes say so much. Sure, the words are what we print, but the eyes are what we feel. When we sit in the press conference and look up at these players, their eyes tell the story. It’s easy for us to just spit out onto paper what they spit to us, but a real writer will tell you about what they’re thinking, not what their saying.

And after Thursday night, I wanted to know what they thought.

And I still want to know what they think.

What does Brandon think? The kid who’s hoisted the Aztecs on his smallish, rounded shoulders for so long. The kid who bleeds red, but also bleeds black. The kid who could be knocked down eight times but would try to knock you down when you go for the ninth.

What is he thinking right now, after being vilified for four days?

What does Marcus think? The kid who tried to jump ship to The League, only to be sent back to Montezuma Mesa with a new mindset and a bum toe. The kid who’s rallied more students to Cox Arena than the Aztec Warrior and Chet the cheerleader combined.

What is he thinking right now, with the allure of The League back in his mind but thousands of fans screaming, “One more year?”

And what does Trimaine think? The kid who has more heart and pure joy for life in his pinky toe than most of us have in our entire bodies. The kid who’s been here the longest, starting with the ups of 2002 and dropping to the downs of 2005 and springing back to the ups of 2006.

What is he thinking right now, with his San Diego State career behind him, with his jersey permanently on the rack?

I wonder how this loss will affect them – how it will shape them for the future. We’re all taught young that it’s OK to make mistakes, as long as you learn from them. Well, there were mistakes, and now it’s time for the education.

I wonder what will happen to their egos, to their mindsets, to their confidence. A player without confidence is Hendrix without a pick, Shakespeare without a quill. For a baller – and, specifically, a shooter – confidence is what keeps them ticking. It allows them to shake off the turnover, the blown layup or the missed shot and try again.

I wonder how they’ll react on campus. I’m sure they’ll get a heroes’ welcome, but will they feel like it’s pity? I’m sure Marcus will be his loud, boisterous, outgoing self in the middle of East Commons, with Brandon and John riding shotgun.

And I’m sure the students will look at them with admiration and jealousy and pride and sorrow at what could’ve been. They’ll see San Diego State University beating Gonzaga and then advancing all the way to the championship game. They’ll see a glass half empty, because that’s all a 22-year-old sees.

And then they’ll say to themselves, “You know what? They did better than any Aztec team before them. They deserve some love.”

And they’ll look at the first 32 games and not the 33rd.

And they’ll feel.

It’s so hard not to.

-Jon Gold is a journalism junior and managing editor of The Daily Aztec

-This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec