On beating the buzzer

 Couple more seconds. That's all we're talking about here, right?

Couple more seconds before you had to attack the rim, and maybe they're not celebrating over there on the San Diego State end. Couple more seconds, and maybe Lamont Butler doesn't get down the floor far enough, maybe he has to launch from farther away and with less form, maybe the ball kicks off the front rim or hits the back rim too hard or skims away off the side of the rim.

Couple more seconds.

Ah, the parsing of time and dissection of what-if that attends the beating of the buzzer.

One flick of the wrist last night -- one launching of the basketball in the right parabolic flight -- and San Diego State is playing for a national title. One flick of the wrist, and Florida Atlantic, the story of Da Tournament, is going home after blowing a 14-point  lead and never trailing in the second half until that very last flick of the wrist.

Elsewhere this night UConn would continue what looks more and more like an inevitable march to the title Monday night, jumping out 9-0 on Miami and never looking back. The 72-59 final score was their closest call of the tournament. No else has finished within 15 points of them.

But the One Shining Moment of this night had already happened by then.

It belonged to Lamont Butler, rushing up the floor and pulling up for a mid-range jumper that splashed down as the horn sounded.  It was every kid's driveway hero skit playing out for real, in real time: Three ... two ... one .. Butler shoots! Butler scores!

Rarely does any other moment in sports result in such instantaneous elation and mourning. Or the instantaneous reversal of the two.

For Florida Atlantic, it was a tear-your-heart-out end to a magical run that has defined this tournament more than anything else. And if Dusty May and his players might not be inclined to dwell on what would have happened if they'd had a couple more seconds to drain off the clock before trying to draw the foul, the rest of us will happily indulge.

Couple more seconds.

One season ends in that eyeblink, and one goes on that looked for a long time as if it were ending. It doesn't get better than that.

Or worse.