At halftime of Saturday’s Illinois-Michigan football game, my friends and I wanted to storm the field in celebration of the narrow lead we had built against the hated Wolverines.

We came to our senses though, so you did not see me straddling the north goal post as the marching band played. I kind of regret not doing it, merely for the fact that I have yet to be pepper-sprayed by police in my 21 years of existence.

As the game was ending, and the Illini had relinquished their lead for good, we wanted to run on the field again – this time to tackle Coach Ron Turner and dump him in the manure on the South Farms.

Luckily, however, “Illini Madness” (formerly known as Midnight Madness) was able to lift our spirits on a predominantly gray, cold and depressing day in Champaign.

Assembly Hall rocked as the Illini men’s basketball team put on a flashy display for sports fans in the Champaign-Urbana area that are eager to see a winning team.

Just taking in the atmosphere of a basketball arena again was a great feeling for me.

It is exciting to know that the basketball season is right around the corner.

In parts of September and October it is too cold to play hoops outside.

Die-hards like me are also unable to get our basketball fix on TV, as college hoops and the NBA have yet to begin.

Thankfully, Saturday marked the return of THE GAME.

I’ve always been passionate about basketball, and nothing else gets me quite as riled up as the hardwood.

When I was an assistant coach for a junior high team, I actually swore at seventh-graders because they were taking too many outside shots and not attacking the basket.

We won the game, by the way – thanks to a lot of penetration.

My fixation with basketball started a long time ago on a driveway in the north suburbs of Chicago.

One day when I was a youngster, I looked out my front door and my oldest brother was shooting on our basket.

He passed me the ball and told me to try to score.

After a couple of shots, I thought to myself, “Eh, this is OK.” After a while though, I was hooked. I liked the intensity and fast pace of the action, and for a short white kid from the suburbs, I had a decent jump shot.

I soon realized the beauty of the game is that all five players on the court have to work together to achieve the ultimate goal of victory.

If a guy doesn’t hustle on D, doesn’t box out and doesn’t set picks, it doesn’t matter if he has been hitting a few open jumpers on the offensive end.

Last year in the NBA, the Pistons beat the Lakers in five games to claim the championship. Ben Wallace and Co. exemplified how an underdog can topple a favored squad.

There is no question the Lakers had more talent than the Pistons. Heck, they had Shaq and Kobe, the two most talented players in the league.

But Detroit was able to play great team defense, get good looks on the offensive end and claim the crown.

There is a reason why there have been so many great basketball films made – everybody dreams of being on the winning team and hitting the winning shot. Who doesn’t get goose bumps at the end of “Hoosiers?”

Every kid who picks up a ball in his driveway envisions himself one day hitting a winning jumper and being carried off the floor to a huge ovation from a sold out crowd.

This winter, a few more of those dreams will be realized as the college basketball and NBA seasons unfold.

Until then, how many more days until Ron Turner is fired?

Jacob Bressler is a senior in communications. He can be reached at [email protected].