I've told this story many times over the years, and will probably out myself as my former alias at Rivals, but this one meant more to me than any other game, for obvious reasons.
I was an intern at the University of Arizona Athletic Department at the time, and everyone in that department was all too aware of my allegiances. Back then, people actually read papers, and my Mom being a Mom decided to send me the paper from each game we played, plus every special feature on the Illini. I had my entire office covered in these papers by the time the brackets were announced. All year long, I'd heard we were overrated, Big Ten was overrated, all that nonsense. I had no idea we'd end up in the same bracket, let alone playing for a trip to the Final 4, and having it end the way it did.
My parents were visiting in Tucson for Spring Break, staying at La Paloma (great spot) in the foothills, all crowded around 1 TV in the lobby, surrounded by 25+ Arizona fans (they are the absolute worst, trust me), and 2 IL fans outside of my family, one of whom's daughter played on the wheelchair basketball team.
One particular Arizona bro kept yelling "Hot Sauce!" at me every time Hassan Adams scored. I still don't get that, and I still hate that fan and Hassan Adams because of it. With 5 minutes left, that DBag yelled "It's OVER", and I begrudgingly agreed, asking my Mom for the room key so I could go pout myself to sleep. As luck would have it, she had locked the key in the room, so I had no out and decided to stay.
The game unfolds as it does, and by the end there's a crowd of literally 150 people around about a 30" TV. I've never seen anything like it. The funny thing is, when Hassan Adams Hot Sauced that 3ball off the backboard, there was a bit of a stumble in the crowd and everyone fell forward, and all I caught was Shakur grabbing the rebound and flipping it in. For a second, I legitimately thought they had won it at the buzzer, had no idea time had expired.
After that, my Dad bought a round of 2 shots of Patron for each of the Illini fans in the building. I took about a dozen more between tears of joy phone calls from all my buddies who knew I was trapped in Tucson, then drank some more until I puked and went to bed the happiest drunk guy of all time.
A few people in the athletic department literally didn't speak to me for 2 weeks after that game. Nerds.