How's that feel? Ever wondered what it's like to run over a catcher … miss free throws with a ticket to the Big Dance on the line … be trapped in a steel oven for three hours? Of course you have; so have we. So we asked the people who know to tell you about those experiences—and many more—in our third annual "How's that feel?" issue

Sporting News, The, August 5, 2005

... to save your BEST FOR LAST?

By Warren Holloway

Former Iowa receiver

I didn't want to ruin the best day of my life by, you know, dying. Making it through the postgame pileup was harder than making that play I'll never forget--a 56-yard touchdown catch, the only score in my five years at Iowa, on the last play of my career to beat LSU at the gun in the Capital One Bowl. You understand asphyxiation, right? It almost happened! There must have been 40 guys on top of me. I realized I wasn't going to get up any time soon, so I had to calm down and just breathe so I would live.

Believe me, it was worth it. It definitely had been frustrating spending two years on the scout team and another two essentially as a special teamer. Like everybody who plays receiver, I wanted to score touchdowns. 1 finally got the chance to start as a fifth-year senior, which was great, except that as the slot receiver, I never got any deep balls. It was, "Hey, it's third-and-3; let's throw a 5-yard out to Warren." So to score a touchdown--any touchdown, but especially such a big one---was so cool, so exciting, so fun.

We were down, 25-24, to LSU in the final minute and trying to get into field-goal range, but then we had a penalty and--I can admit this now--we had no idea the clock was still running. The play call was "All Up X Glance." My job was to run straight toward the goal line and try to take the safety on my side of the field with me, which would clear some space underneath for the tight end or a crossing receiver. There was just enough time for a catch, a timeout and a kick. But I had a feeling Drew Tate was going to take a shot at the end zone because that's the type of quarterback he is.

When I first saw the ball in the air, I assumed it was intended for Ed Hinkel, one of our leading receivers. But then 1 figured it doesn't matter who catches it. I was like, "Ah, forget it, I'm going after it and catching it if I can get my hands on it."

The catch itself felt a lot like practice, but everything else was in slow motion, and I couldn't hear the crowd all the way until I caught the ball on the run at the 10-yard line. I was like, "Oh, my God, nobody is between me and the goal line." Then I heard this explosion of noise from the crowd and realized I was running straight for the end zone. I didn't even know there was no time left on the clock. I turned around after I scored, and it felt like I was in the new EA Sports NCAA Football game where the crowd goes so crazy the screen shakes. I swear the earth was shaking with all my teammates charging at me and going crazy.

I did a bunch of interviews on the field, got a million hugs and even got to lead the fight song in the locker room, which was amazing. Then I got back to campus a couple of weeks later--I'd already graduated--and reality kind of set in. People were giving me that "I've seen him before but I can't place him" look. I wasn't quite the big man on campus but close enough.

A few weeks later, we had our pro day with a bunch of NFL scouts. They asked me questions like, "Do you go to school here?" and "What position do you play?" I was like, "So much for that."

But it was all right because it's unrealistic for one touchdown in five years to carry anyone to the NFL. I signed in June with the Ohio Valley Greyhounds of the United Indoor Football Association, so I'm still playing the game and still hope to play in the NFL. Besides, I'll always have that one touchdown at Iowa--the catch that made it all worthwhile.

... to be THE GOAT?

He stood alone at the line, dead certain he was going to hit three free throws. The clock read 0:00. Memphis trailed Louisville, 75-73, in the Conference USA championship game. Hit all three, Memphis was dancin 'into the NCAAs. Hit two, it would be overtime Hit one? Hello, NIT

By Darius Washington

University of Memphis guard

There was no question in my mind I was going to make them. I told my teammates, "The game is over." I wasn't nervous at all There wasn't a scared bone in my body. I did my normal routine. Three bounces. Deep breath. Spin the ball, and shoot.

If you play basketball, you know the first one is the hardest. You miss the first and now you have pressure on the second and third ones. So after I hit the first, there wasn't any pressure at all. The next one just fell short--a quarter-inch off--and I told my teammates, "We'll just go to overtime."

But the third one was the same as the second. It hit the same exact spot--a little short. If it just tilts the other way, it goes in. I couldn't believe I missed it, and that's when it hit me that the game was over. I couldn't believe I had let my teammates down--especially the seniors. It was their last chance to go to the Big Dance. I was crying. Jeremy Hunt and Coach Cal (John Calipari) told me not to worry about it. I was just drained.

The first call I got on my cell voice mail was from my cousin, Chucky Atkins, who plays for the Lakers. As soon as I missed, he was calling. If the game ended at 5:59, at 6 o'clock he was calling. When I called him back, he told me it also happened to him when he was at South Florida. Instead of three free throws, he had two. He was like, "It's a learning experience. It happens to everybody."