ANOTHER CHAPTER IS WRITTEN

Some things are so constant that they seem deceptively inevitable. In Southern California, the passage of Fall into Winter is marked by extraordinarily bright, but fleeting sunlight from a horizon hugging source which gives way to chilled afternoon shadows, and finally to piercingly frigid, clear navy skies. The clouds of this time of year are feathered, no doubt on the upper atmospheric gusts in a way not seen or experienced at any other time of year.

In the Southern end of Southern California, it is all too common to experience these natural sensations intermixed with the pungent odor of singed mesquite and chapparall, an unmistakeable smell which often promises destruction in its path.

It is also a time of great joy, for mingled with these natural turns are the pouring forth of holiday cheer - of sights, sounds and smells of the holidays and all their annual promise.

For LOST, this joy has been tempered many times, by the approach of another Seasonal occurrence, the mixture of powder blue, crimson, gold and green in a way no Santa ever conceived of in a hundred lifetimes. LOST speaks of the annual cross-town rivalry game, the renewed epic battle between the forces of Good (UCLA) and Evil (U$C).

Of late, Evil has been triumphing, largely because of Good’s failure consistently act. At this festive season of the year, Evil stands at the threshold of equalling the great feat of 8 in a row, first achieved by the Bruins from 1991-1998 in this series.

LOST has attended a number of these games, and it offers a groundswell of great memories and images. From the 1973 game, where the wishbone Bruins of the Blair Pair (Kermit Johnson and James McAllister) promised so much more than they could deliver, losing 23 - 13, and forcing LOST and several of his sibs to flee the Coliseum grounds after a “misunderstand” erupted between LOST’s older sister and another reveler, one with stronger ties to the local community.

There was the 1974 affair, which featured a seemingly untouchable $C team which romped home to a 34-9 win, one which included even a blocked PAT by a guy named “Batman.” This would be the same TrOJan team that would spot Notre Dame 24 points the very next week, and then score 55 in a row. A bad week in LOST’s house for sure, given a Domer Dad with a particular dislike for the Crimson and gold.

Oh, the magic of 1975. Cold, windy even spritzy Friday after Thanksgiving. No weather issues, not even 8 turnovers could stop this Bruin team of destiny from chalking up a win on the way to a Rose Bowl rematch with Ohio State and Woody Hayes. The joy of that evening, paired with the revelry that ensued the New Years day to follow, was a warmth to be revered and remembered for a lifetime. Oh, Vermeil, whydja have to go?

The dawn of the Donahue years seem, at first blush, like the prelude to the Dorrell era. 4 straight losses to the hated hedonists of Figueroa tech. Stupid , quirky turnovers, a mid air fumble by Bigfoot - as he was rumbling his way toward a huge gain on a drive - turned into a TD return. A cheesy pass interference penalty on Johnny Lynn in 77, which turned Bruin hopes for a great comeback win into a sad ending. An awful turnover by Bigfoot on a kick return sealing the deal in 78, and a terrible shellacking (35-0 at halftime) in 79 made the Donahue era feel like a trip to the woodshed. Only the short fingers of Jeff Fisher, and the nimble hands and feet of Freeman McNeil stood between the blue and gold faithful and a fifth consecutive year of rivalry futility in 1980. That tipped ball also probably saved Terry Donahue’s job, possibly his coaching career.

There have been others. Walking into the Cooperage with the futre Mrs. LOST, just in time to watch George Achica stop Terry Donahue from beating $C in consecutive seasons - what would have wound up being 5 consecutive. Or the '85 game, where LOST's friend and former roomie Crazy Jim snapped a red and gold pom pom in half, after a disheartening 17-13 loss in the Coliseum. Or the very next year, with the Hail Mary Halftime Haul in of a Matt Stevens pass - it built a 31-0 Bruin lead on the way to a 45 25 rout of the hated scoundrels. Or the Barnes Stokes game in 92, when LOST and the Mrs. left in the 3d quarter, the latter shivering, and the first born tired, only to nearly crash the car in the ensuing excitement that followed in the fourth quarter.

The Point is, it would seem, that the game gets played, irrespective of what has happened before, or how good the teams look on paper, and the outcome is decided on the field. Tomorrow, the guys in blue are gonna have to do something they've not done this season, and probably didn't do last season either - play flawlessly, and play well. If they can do both, the outcome of this one on the field might go their way after all.