I have a friend who knows a lot about movies. Turns out, he also knows a thing or two about sports.

After Illinois made like a boomerang with teeth and came back to bite Arizona in the Elite Eight, my friend had this to offer: “You could tape that game, slip it into a VCR and call it a ride at Great America.”

Indeed, you could.

Actually, you could tape the entire season and do the same. I guarantee the line would be longer (and more orange) than any other line in the park – and not because Raging Bull had broken or Batman had busted.

There are two simple reasons.

This team is worth the wait.

And their fans know it.

The centennial season of Illinois basketball was not about winning games, setting records or staying humble. It was not about converting doubters, celebrating achievements or wanting more.

Those things were there, and they were sweet. But they were not at the core of the Illini apple.

This season was about a team and its fans.

It was about one group of people who excited and inspired and moved another group of people, sometimes to the point of tears.

It was about the latter group of people who cheered and rallied and willed the former group of people all the way to the final game of the Final Four.

It is not a stretch to say these two groups of people fell in love with each other, unconditionally. They earned each other’s respect and admiration on a daily basis. They showed their mutual appreciation whenever they had an opportunity.

And right when they were about to take that last, fated step to solidify their relationship forever, Sean May dunked all over them.

So now what?

Champaign is without that ugly national championship trophy. And we are all without our fairy-tale ending.

But the love – the love is still there.

When Deron Williams is bringing the ball up the court for some NBA team, Roger Powell Jr. is preaching the gospel in some church and CEO Jack Ingram is running the show at some company, the love will still be there.

When Dee Brown lets out his braids, Luther Head lets out that high-pitched voice and Nick Smith actually lets out a smile, the love will still be there.

When the University ushers in a new group of freshmen next fall and the fall after that and so on and so forth until every student who got to experience these Illini firsthand has either graduated or moved on, the love will still be there.

And there will always be a story to tell.

The night of the Pacers-Pistons melee in Detroit, I talked to Brown at Kam’s. He was just as shocked as the rest of us.

The summer after my sophomore year, I heard a knock on my apartment door. It was one of the building’s employees, James Augustine, there to change my air filter.

I sat through Kines 249 lectures with Head.

Everyone has a story. When your team is made up of your peers, and you live in such proximity to them, you realize they are a lot more like you than you thought. You are no longer a fan rooting for a team – but a person rooting for people.

And that is how you form a bond that could confound chemists, and you cement a Buzz Lightyear connection.

You share a love that will certainly last to infinity and beyond.

Josh Purse is a senior in communications. He is not ready for baseball season. He can be reached at [email protected].