What makes the song-and-video montage so powerful for me, I think, is the way it serves as a tiny microcosm of the Dance itself. By weaving together highlights from the preceding three and a half weeks of Madness, it lets you relive the most magical parts of the 60+ games you just experienced. It walks you through the journey you just took. It tells the story of the season you just saw arrive at a stunning conclusion.
For me, "One Shining Moment" captures the essence of what I adore about the tournament: that it's self-encapsulating. Start to finish it spans less than a month, yet it offers the same narrative arc you'd find in a great epic tale: a field of worthy competitors going to battle; one by one they fall; Cinderellas emerge to steal the country's heart; Davids take on Goliaths; outcomes surprise us; good doesn't always defeat evil; teams rise to overcome or crumble under the weight of the obstacles they encounter, thereby in all cases revealing their true mettle. Heartbreak follows euphoria follows heartbreak...
A big part of the reason it's such a thrill to watch basketball teams that aren't yours do battle, of course, comes from the custom of predicting the results ahead of time. I doubt we'd find the whole thing nearly as compelling if we didn't each have a bit of our pride and ego on the line. I never fail to feel conflicted when, as happened this year, a highly-ranked team I have going all the way looks like it's about to be taken down by a 14- or 15- or 16-seed nobody. Which do you want more -- an amazing upset or your bracket not to go kaboom? The rush of emotions that barrage serious tournament watchers is just not easy to compete with. We wouldn't be watching if it were.
This season was a little different for me, however. I hardly got to watch any of the games, due mostly to the traveling I've been doing for work and a number of social engagements I unthinkingly committed myself to. I squeezed in as much of the tourney as I could, but in the end I wasn't even able to sit down and enjoy the championship (and I never miss a championship). As a result, I didn't get my fix of "One Shining Moment" glory I so look forward to every year.
When, a few days later, I got around to pulling it up on YouTube, I didn't have high expectations. I figured that without having experienced the tournament itself, the video of clips pieced together wouldn't move me much. And what I found was that I didn't remember most of what I was seeing. In previous years, there'd be an amazing dunk or block or fun few seconds of a coach pumping up his team, and I'd know precisely where I was when it had happened live. This time around, a lot of what I was looking at was foreign.
You know what? It didn't matter.
That video gave me goosebumps like you would not believe. I laughed and whimpered and lost myself in the story that unfolded, and at the end I was on fire with happiness for Kentucky -- and admiration for what, I'm continually reminded, sports have the capacity to do to us.
