Sometimes a Game IS More Than Just a Game

It has been almost 30 years since I have gotten to embrace my dad. To hug him, to hold his hand, and to watch our favorite team together. While I think of him often during UCLA football season, last week in particular I was missing him more deeply.

Lately, the absence has been overwhelming — almost like I just lost him. Dr. Joe Dispenza says when we live in the past, the brain can’t tell the difference between then and now, so the body feels it all over again. During a heart meditation last week, it hit me all over again. The grief was heavy, and I felt it physically in my heart. In that moment, I just wanted my dad to hug me.

So I asked for a sign.

“Dad, can you give me a sign? Can you have UCLA pull off a miracle win today? I really need an uplifting moment and to know you’re here.”

That was Valentine’s Day.

We didn’t just lose — we lost horribly. Then we lost again to Michigan State a few days later. I was sad on many levels.

So I moved on and began waiting for another sign. Maybe it was the pigeons we saw on our walk at the beach. I never see pigeons at the beach. My dad had homing pigeons that would roll in the air. They brought him so much joy. I wanted that to be it. But it wasn’t.

Seven days later, UCLA was set to play Illinois. I didn’t watch. I was too disheartened. Too tired from the emptiness I was feeling.

My husband kept giving me updates:
“They just pulled ahead.”
“They’re going into overtime.”
Then he shouted, “Tyus Edney is blowing up on Twitter (X). Donovan Dent just pulled off a Tyus Edney for the win!”

My heart jumped. As did my body as I ran to watch the replay. And I did — numerous times! Then I watched it again. And again.

The last basketball game my dad and I watched together was when UCLA won their last National Championship. Just before that we watched The Tyus Game to get into the Sweet 16. The Tyus Edney full-court run is a play I will never forget. That moment was ours.

The next morning, while journaling, it hit me.

Oh my God.

It was Dad.

He waited for that perfect moment to shine through for me. The play was so identical to the last time we celebrated together. It is, even for me, quite eerie — but so lovingly comforting.

Sometimes a game isn’t “just a game.” Sometimes it is a beautiful moment. A precious connection. A healing energy that you need to move forward in a positive light.

And sometimes it’s bigger than the players on the court.

To the Bruins — and to anyone who shows up and gives their all — never underestimate the impact of your effort. You may think you’re playing for rankings, for records, for pride. But somewhere, someone is holding onto that moment for something much deeper.

Show up.
Play hard.
Don’t give up.
You never know who needs that miracle.
You never know whose heart you might be healing.

Thank you, Bruins.
Thank you, Donovan Dent.
Thank you, Tyus Edney.
And thank you, Dad.