I stormed the court my freshman year when Illinois beat No. 5 Michigan State in 2010.

I still love that game. I remember it vividly. With time running out, Mike Davis received a long outlet pass, dunked the ball, turned around, raised his arms, then was mobbed by a sea of orange. Illinois 78, Michigan State 73. “Storm the court at an Illini game” got crossed off the bucket list that day.

But in the weeks following the game, the storm left something of a bad taste in my mouth. Dick Vitale,who was part of the broadcast team for ESPN that game, pronounced the storming as over-the-top, chiding the fans as they hit the court. Other analysts took Vitale’s side.

I defended the students’ decision. Absolutely. It was a huge win, a huge upset and the crowd was wired from start to finish. It was the appropriate way to end the day.

And yet, something about it still didn’t sit right. The fact that I had to defend the decision at all somewhat took away from the moment, if only a little bit. All you want to do after a win like that is watch the replay over and over to relive the moment, and I couldn’t do that without hearing a smug Dickie V and thinking of the critics. The damn outsiders wouldn’t let us have our moment. It was still an AWESOME day — one of the best — but it wasn’t perfect.

In hindsight, those outsiders’ cases have some credence. Michigan State had lost its last game before coming to Champaign, so the No. 5 ranking was empty. The Spartans were also playing without their best player. Again, the win wasn’t perfect.

Last Thursday’s win against Indiana was perfect.

We all know what happened by now. Comeback against arch-rival No. 1 Indiana, capped off with a buzzer-beater by the unlikely hero. Almost a week later, I still have to remind myself every morning when I wake up that it was, in fact, not a dream. Sometimes I’m not persuaded.

It has all the makings of a dream. In a dream, you go from place to place — like the bleachers to center court — without fully understanding how. Your cognitive faculties aren’t fully functioning, so you might do things like run, jump, yell, scream and storm without your brain’s permission. In a dream, you’re out of body. In a dream, unrealistic things become reality.

After Thursday, I understood the critics of my freshman-year storm a bit more clearly. In that game, as the clock approached zero, the game was in hand. We had won. A murmur began to rise among the students. “Should we storm?” We looked around and all gave silent approval, and when the buzzer sounded, we followed through on our plans.

Against Indiana, there was no discussion. There were no plans. No agreement. No thought process whatsoever. There was only bliss.

In an instant, I was off the bleachers and on flat surface. Then I was face down on the ground. Then I was up and at center court. Then I was cheering and hugging strangers. I remember those moments, but I don’t fully remember how I arrived there.

Court storming the Michigan State game was a plan followed through on. Court storming the Indiana game was an act of passion. Against Michigan State, I remember the run. Against Indiana, I remember the feeling.

The best part: the replay. Both the radio and TV calls portray the same emotion I felt. When I see and hear those calls, I’m reminded of a moment of pure happiness. If there was ever a game to storm, that was it. Even Dickie V would approve.

If that game happens to be the turning point of the season, great. But if not, whatever. There isn’t a thing that could ruin that perfect, perfect day.

Jack is a senior in LAS. He can be reached at [email protected]. Follow him on   Twitter @JCassidy10.