It’s Our Lavin Point-Counterpoint

Charles Chiccoa is one of the Southland’s most knowledgeable sports fans, but it’s hard to understand why he remains a UCLA fan, being so upset with them constantly.

I’d like to paraphrase a famous question to Charles upon UCLA’s advancement to the Sweet 16. Even if Lavin becomes another John Wooden, he’s still a forced, politically correct, slicked-back clown, but Charles, “What’s your opinion of Lavin’s performance?”

MIKE HANNIN, Newbury Park

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Was the Bruins’ Great Terrapin Feast real or was it an illusion? Maybe it was some kind of mass flashback to ’68. In any case, 105-70 can take its place right up there with any number of Wooden era masterpieces (and that includes the Elvin Hayes-Houston demolition in the Sports Arena).

In retrospect, something--though certainly nothing like this--did seem to be in the air. First the Cal shaker, then that huge tremor at Stanford had us all wondering if UCLA was becoming a team to be taken seriously (Sports Illustrated didn’t think so, and picked them to go one and out). Suddenly Earl Watson is transformed from a poor man’s Toby Bailey into a pocket Magic Johnson. Half-court alley-oops and three-pointers rain down on poor Maryland like those frogs in “Magnolia.” All this and a stifling defense too. At least we finally know the talent on the floor was always there.

Everyone has their own Steve Lavin theory, so here’s mine: The guy has become the ultimate “players’ coach.” No one but Lavin could have resisted yanking Watson off the floor after that backboard alley-oop versus Ball State blew up in Earl’s face. Watching this kid, watching this team, is like watching a precocious teenager with no fear behind the wheel of a speeding Lamborghini. It must end either in a dreadful crash or a thing of beauty. For good or ill, it’s absolutely contemporary, like, you know, way cool.

CHARLES CHICCOA, Reseda