Tears flowed a year ago, but they have long since dried.
It was in the Sweet 16 of last year’s NCAA Tournament when Utah’s Jenna Johnson for whatever reason was tapped on the shoulder by the fates themselves … no, when the fates hurled their cruelest darts aimed straight at Johnson’s forehead … giving her both the opportunity to win a huge game for the Utes and reap great glory and/or to suffer the heart-wrenching consequences if she failed in the attempt.
Well. The attempt didn’t just fail, it tore a freaking hole in her spirit and soul.
You remember. Everyone remembers.
The Utes had the chance to beat LSU that day, not only to beat the Tigers, but to forge ahead to win a national title. There’s no hyperbole in that statement. It was all right there for them.
They were a 2-seed, LSU a 3, and the teams engaged in a rousing rumble of a game that came down, in the final seconds, to Johnson standing at the free-throw line, Wilson in hand, with two foul shots, the Utes down by one point. She airballed the first attempt. The second clanked off the rim twice and fell away. Despite all the standard postgame talk that games aren’t won or lost on any single play or, in this case, a couple of foul shots, everybody knew that was a lie meant to soothe broken hearts.
LSU later went on to do exactly what Utah could have done, maybe even what it should have done — win a championship.
Instead, in that wicked here and now, Johnson sat on the bench in the closing moments, face buried in hands, then staring out between her fingers as the Rainbirds sent waterworks flying, all as coach Lynne Roberts wrapped her arms around her star player, one of them, attempting to soothe the raw emotions spilling out and over, the emotions that sports sometimes stirs.
(Mic Smith | AP) Utah's Jenna Johnson (22) holds back tears and is comforted by coach Lynne Roberts after missing two free throws late in the second half against LSU in a Sweet 16 college basketball game of the women's NCAA Tournament in Greenville, S.C., Friday, March 24, 2023.
Remember what Roberts said to Johnson at that time?
“I told her I was proud of her. … I just told her I loved her and I was proud of her.”
That’s exactly what a great coach, a good human would say.
Roberts added quietly that she’d look forward to Johnson facing a similar set of competitive circumstances in the future and kicking the cruelest of fates straight in their fannies by way of splashing those shots in the future.
OK, the coach didn’t use those exact words, but that was her sentiment. What she did say about Johnson was: “She’s a fighter.”
For an extended span, the fighter was floored. She worked through her deep disappointment, hour by hour, day by day, month by month. Roberts characterized the immediate postgame as “brutal,” saying the team, without pointing fingers at Johnson, was “devastated.” From that point on, through the difficult times, such as first thing in the morning when Johnson woke up, realizing and reliving again that devastation, through an onslaught of social media commentary about her collapse, through a climb that required her to face what had happened and to conquer it by somehow getting past it.
“Her parents were concerned about her,” Roberts told The Tribune’s Kevin Reynolds in the following months. “People can be rotten.”
Said Johnson: “It is tough. It is hard. … Everything is hard.”
She said she felt elements of shame and guilt. It’s one thing to let down yourself, it’s another to betray teammates, coaches, family, friends, an entire university and its fan base, the whole world, it seemed, on national television.
But her family and friends and teammates gave her substantial buoyancy, as did her faith. And giving proper credit where it’s been earned, she did the heavy lifting herself to overcome the experience, all as life spun forward.
Johnson eventually put it like this: “I’m sure it’s going to follow me the rest of my career, honestly. Eventually, people will move on. But it will always be interesting to talk about and ask about. I’m sure there will be a lot of questions, but it’s part of my story. Even talking about how I’ve turned it around.”
A postseason later, after the Utes have battled through comprehensive troubles of their own during the regular season, including a season-ending injury to Johnson’s close friend, star guard Gianna Kneepkens, among other challenges, after they closed out that regular season with a 22-10 record and an early exit in the Pac-12 tournament, they prepare for another shot at team-wide acclaim.
They move now into the NCAA Tournament as a 5-seed against 12-seed South Dakota State on Saturday in Spokane. As they do, Johnson, who averaged 9 points on better-than 50 percent shooting, 5.5 boards and 2 assists, and her teammates can meet their future head on. They — she — can scrap and punch forward, because, as Roberts said it, she’s a … yeah, you-know-what.
And as much as the Utes want to win, as much work as they’ve put into that winning, the sacrifices made, the sweat spilt, the energy and effort expended, they can look at Jenna Johnson and know full well that even if the fates hurl their cruel darts, even if losing hurts worse than winning feels good, either way, come what may, they will survive, tears do dry, and they can and will fight on.
