It was the scream heard ‘round Gainesville and, perhaps, the entirety of collegiate sports. A thunderous clangor rang out from the more than 11,000 fans wedged together at the Stephen C. O'Connell Center.
The day for Florida basketball had arrived. The national championship returned to Gainesville for the first time since 2007, and UF students greeted it with a deafening roar.
Some took pictures to commemorate the celebration. Others ripped up the media designation papers and threw them in the air like confetti. Most, though, stormed the court, shouting how great it is to be a Florida Gator.
Leonardo Anauate, 22, stood against the wall at the top of the first concourse, taking in chaos unfurling below. His eyes watered as he struggled to put into words what the moment meant.
“It’s an indescribable feeling,” he said. “It’s just amazing. It’s incredible. We’re the best team in the country, and it’s just amazing to be part of this.”
Gator fans across Gainesville packed into the O'Dome earlier in the evening with the hope of celebrating a win on the biggest stage in college basketball. The doors closed nearly an hour before the game’s tipoff as 11,355 people filled the seats, setting a new attendance record across all paid and nonpaid events.
Students, alumni and Florida fans stood in line waiting for the doors to open. The line to get in circled the area, stretching back to the football indoor practice facility. Cases of beer and takeaway bags littered the pavement. Some fans brought lawn chairs and blankets. Others played catch with a football, wearing blue and orange striped overalls.
Francesca Medaglia stood on the sidewalk about 15 feet away from the doors with her friends Carlie Griffin and Hannah Postlewait, all 21. Joined by roughly 25 other friends, the three waited for eight hours, staving off the hunger with bagels she had collected earlier in the morning.
Medaglia said she has only attended one other basketball game this season. She wasn’t a huge fan of the team, but the watch party was one last hurrah to her time in college, she said.
“I want to hear people screaming, and, when we win, I want to see the crowd of people going crazy,” Medaglia said.
Closer to Gale Lemerand Drive, Keyton King, 23, carried a foil tray of 50 chicken tenders and an assortment of dips in one hand and a drink in the other. King said he inherited the meal from a law school event after most of the students skipped to secure a place in line.
The first in their 12-person group had arrived at around 4:20 p.m. while the others raced in from around the state. Thomas Christensen, 23, and his sister, Heidi, 22, drove nearly five hours from Coral Springs the night before to attend the Gator watch party at the O’Connell Center. Other members of the group were still en route from Tampa after work.
The group decided not to visit bars and restaurants to avoid the crowds. Unlike the other watch parties, there was assigned seating at the O’Connell Center. It was a better view with guaranteed space and working air conditioning, a benefit fans mentioned multiple times.
“We had to secure the chicken. They secured the spot,” King said, motioning to the tray in her hands.
As the doors opened up, a rush of fans surged toward the doors. The crowd raced into the area to pick out their favorite seats. Unlike usual protocol, students weren’t confined to their normal free-ticket section.
Instead, the entire area was open for students and UF fans alike. At one point, an emcee for the event asked people to squeeze in tighter to make sure there weren’t any stray seats unfilled. Those who couldn’t find an immediate seat lined the railings of the upper concourse.
A thunderous chant of “Go Gators” reverberated throughout the area as part of the UF band blasted the rallying song. As a blurry screen broadcast the view from outside the Alamodome, fans stomped their feet, creating a drumroll effect. During a moment of silence in the Texas arena, Gator fans in Gainesville did the wave.
As senior guard Walter Clayton Jr. appeared on screen for the first time in the night, the crowd screamed, a deafening noise that made it impossible to hear someone speak. On one 3-pointer by the Gators, the cacophonous celebrations drowned out the broadcast which noted that the shot didn’t count due to a traveling call.
Skylar Lisiesky, 19, and her friend Hayley Fresh, 20, pushed past seven other fans to grab the remaining seats against the railing. The two, who’ve known each other since third grade, left their eight-person group in the upper rafters earlier in the night.
Sophomore forward Alex Condon was the first to put Florida on the board with a dunk shot that sent the crowd into pandemonium. Fresh jumped up and down. Lisiesky clapped. Both sets of eyes remained glued to the screen in the center of the arena.
“For me to say that in 20 years my freshman year of college we won would be amazing,” Lisiesky said. “I can’t imagine how [the players] feel and being a part of that is amazing, incredible.”
Despite the Gators being down by three at halftime, Gator fans didn’t seem phased. The confidence quickly vanished as Houston’s lead ballooned to 10 points. Perhaps it was because the Florida basketball team had found itself in this position during most of the games in March Madness. Some, like William Strachan, 20, said he felt that Clayton Jr’s lack of points was a fluke that would fix itself out.
After a missed foul call, some banged on the wall behind them. Others flung their hands in the air, shaking their heads in disagreement. The Gator cheer team tried to rally some energy, but most of the fans seemed content to sit in their chairs and spend the timeout on their phones rather than spell out G-A-T-O-R-S.
Sophomore forward Thomas Haugh’s layup brought the Gators within four. The crowd, whose disappointment had been palpable, exploded with applause. Yelling the lyrics to Travis Scott’s “FE!N,” Florida fans swayed back and forth, their arms splayed across each other’s shoulders.
From there, it was a roller coaster of emotions. Florida would make a shot, and the O’Dome would roar. Houston would respond, and the crowd simmered, seething with anger at whomever they could blame: Houston’s players, the opposing head coach Kelvin Sampson and, most of all, the referees.
A foul on a made-shot by Clayton Jr. sent the crowd into chaos. Taking the pause in the action with full force, the venue used it as an opportune moment, as the lights dimmed and the speakers in the area blared, to blast the opening notes of Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.” The crowd echoed the lyrics and waved the flashlights on their phones in the air.
Chants of “Let’s Go, Clayton” rang out as the game returned with about eight minutes remaining. The cheers somehow grew louder as Clayton Jr. drained his free throw to tie the game. With under five minutes to go, Florida’s fans took to their feet as the back-and-forth game showed no clear leader.
With under a minute to go, Florida seemed to find its footing to the crowd’s resounding delight. But Houston had the ball with 19 seconds remaining. The Gator fans quieted.
Somehow, some way the team would need to make a comeback. The seconds ticked down. The crowd waited with bated breath. Then, they released it in an ear-splitting scream. Condon stole the ball from Houston, and the game was over: 65-63, Florida.
Chinyere Chukwu, 22, followed the crowd down the stairs, stopping at an overhang near the press box. She paused, surveying the crowd. For a few moments, she was just another Florida fan, not a biology major with class the next day.
“We’re winners,” she said with a large smile across her face. “It’s our time to shine.”