For a kid whose attire always has a hint of Carolina blue, Monday night marked my first time witnessing UNC Chapel Hill in the championship spotlight.

I rode that Carolina blue throughout all my brackets and my daily demeanor as well. I knew my Tar Heels would make it this far, but the thought of losing to Villanova on the biggest stage in the most heartbreaking fashion with all of America witnessing burrowed itself deep into my mind. And I was adamant to keep it hidden.

Was I mentally prepared for this game? No. Did I think I was? Yes. Was I ready for the only 3-point buzzer-beater ending in NCAA basketball championship history? No.

But did I think my prayers of Marcus Paige’s clutchness would result in a history-defying game-winning shot with UNC cutting down the net moments afterward? Yes.

Should I call this the best game I have ever watched? No, but it’s up there. Should I call this the most heartbreaking game I have ever watched? Maybe, but then I would be lying. To tell the truth, there was only one accolade that this game claimed in my personal trophy case: the most appreciated game I have yet to witness.

Sporting events have a raw unpredictability about them that you either fathom highly or disregard with a swift brush off your shoulder. Or sometimes hate with a burning passion. I believe the Tar Heel faithful fell under the latter.

North Carolina was the best team in the tournament. Backed by one of the best coaches of all time. A superior bench. Plenty of  soon-to-be household names. The perfect mix of size and speed. Thunder and lightning balanced by a chip on their shoulder. Worst 3-point shooting team in Carolina history headlined by its star player’s shaky season. Who says they can’t win it all?

It would be the perfect ending. Seniors Brice Johnson and Marcus Paige get to walk off with a championship after the heart they displayed for the past four seasons. Ol’ Roy Williams gets his third championship with Carolina, fully cementing his legacy. Most importantly, the Duke title of a year ago will be completely forgotten.

So for every Tar Heel, this fairytale ending was almost complete with 4.7 seconds left. Carolina demolished a double-digit deficit in the final minutes and Paige just hit the biggest shot of his life, a double-clutch midair 3 that tied the game. Now it was time to plan the mode of action for overtime.

The world was enamored with Paige’s shot: the final 4.7 seconds of time never crossed any Carolina fan’s mind. That time was waste. Un-precious seconds. In reality, they didn’t exist. I forgot the meaning of sports for 4.7 seconds.

And a buzzer-beater 3 off the hands of Villanova’s Kris Jenkins ensued.

Who knew Villanova would stump Carolina’s dominance in the paint? Who knew guys with the last names of Arcidiacono and Ochefu would outplay the highly recruited and touted players garnished in sky blue that many legends have worn? And most importantly, who would’ve thought Carolina would lose?

I stared at the screen for two good minutes. Gaping jaw. Stillness filled the room. Besides the sounds of the TV, you could’ve mistaken it for an untouched piece of earth, a truly meditative space. It was Sports, I finally remembered. S-P-O-R-T-S. Just sports.

Was Villanova’s game plan too solid for Carolina to thrive? Did some higher power punish Carolina for its infamous academic allegations? Or was this a teaching moment for all that will impact every player that stepped foot on that court for years to come? It was rude and selfish, this thing called sports. Why not give a guy like Paige his credit, a perfect ride off into the sunset, a scholar-athlete who is heralded amongst coaches and analysts, who is more deserving of a championship than any athlete in America!

While some would resort to name-calling, completely walking away from sports for a good couple months, or even violence, that’s where our appreciation should begin. How will these athletes cope with what they have endured? Do they have bigger plans awaiting them in life that will surely relate back to this game? We’re enthralled by what we see on the court, but it’s the implications they have off of it that is truly fun to watch take shape.

That loss stung for a good day. For some, it will likely be a sore spot in their soul for eternity. Regardless, the Tar Heel faithful will return to complete form come next October. That’s why sports is finely suited for a metaphor about life. It’s truly about overcoming adversity and living to the fullest. So we should appreciate our Tar Heels, appreciate the most heartbreaking loss in UNC history, appreciate perfect endings.

For the past couple of years, Villanova has been that high-ranked team that always loses early in the tournament. It was a well-coached team this year with an abundance of heart. For Villanova to win it all is absolute perfection. In reality, there are myriad reasons why Villanova should’ve won rather than UNC.

Looking back, I watched Nova and Carolina square off with a fervent passion, a fulfilling steak in my stomach, and a thorough enjoyment of the fact that every call made against Carolina would instantly be turned into a bad call when my dad shouted at the TV like any loyal alumnus would. I was content with the end result even amidst Twitter rants and Crying Jordan memes engulfing my phone. Simple, complex, all because of 40 minutes of watching people dribble and pass a ball and try to put it in a hoop. That’s why I love sports. That’s why we should all love sports.

Junior Byrde Wells can be reached at wellsje1210@daretolearn.org.