Going through the grind isn’t easy, but rewards can often be satisfying for a cast of role players behind the scenes

March Madness has plenty of upsets, but as a 1-seed, you have a responsibility to handle your business.

Not only versus your opponent, but also to your teammates, to not cheat them out of an opportunity they may never get again. So when the final score read Arizona 92, Long Island 58, on paper and in person it wasn’t close. It was never going to be – as it should be.

Because complacency robs unsung heroes of their opportunity for a little love.

The top-seeded Wildcats came flying out of the gates against the Sharks on Friday in San Diego, going up by double digits in the opening minutes on their way to a 34-point demolition that validated every bit of their No. 1 seed status. It was the largest NCAA Tournament win for Arizona since 1998, a showcase for a team that looks very much like a national title contender.

But tucked inside the blowout, at the end of each bench, was a different story entirely. 

With the clock winding down and the outcome long decided, LIU’s Eddie Munyak checked in. He had only entered one game all season. Just one. And yet there he was, under the bright lights of the NCAA Tournament, the biggest stage in college basketball, in a gym full of Wildcat red and was presented an opportunity. When the ball swung to Munyak from Tre’s Sheppard with just under a minute left, it was all or nothing.

He chucked a three from deep. If it didn’t take all his strength to get it off and over the arms of Arizona defender Jackson Reed-Francois, you could’ve fooled anyone watching. It sat in the air for an eternity then glanced off the backboard and into the net for three. The surreal moment and emotion to go along with it had arrived.

“He was excited. Not every kid that plays college basketball gets this moment, gets this opportunity. Happy for him,” said Arizona guard Jaden Bradley. Bradley echoes what we all know about March Madness, that sometimes it’s all about the little things.

It wasn’t going to change the scoreboard. It wasn’t going to change the bracket. But it changed something for Munyak, and anyone who’s ever worn a jersey and sat at the end of a bench understood exactly what it meant at that moment.

Arizona head coach Tommy Lloyd, whose own team was advancing to the second round, paused to appreciate it.

“I mean, listen, you feel good for that young man,” Lloyd said. “That’s an awesome moment in his life that he’ll never forget. College basketball is special, and I think in this NCAA Tournament, there’s a lot of amazing stories. That’s what makes it great theater.”

Lloyd didn’t stop there. He knew his team was the story everyone would write about. But he made sure to acknowledge the other side of the ledger.

“Some teams advance and we’re a team on a mission,” he said. “But we also have a team we played today that their season ended. And they’ve had a magical season. And there’s guys on that team that didn’t get to play very much. So for a kid like that to be able to put that in his back pocket and pull out the video with all his friends, down the line it’s going to be something really special. Glad I’m a part of it.”

Munyak wasn’t alone. On Arizona’s side of the ball, with the game well in hand, reserves Sven Djopmo, Addison Arnold and Reed-Francois got their own moments, stepping onto the floor in the final minutes of a first-round NCAA Tournament game, earning the kind of memory that college athletes carry for a lifetime.

What goes unnoticed is all the hard work with little recognition these players put forth to help the team in so many ways. They do all the lifting, workouts, practices and have the same rigorous schedule with classes most student-athletes have. However, they do it for the love…love for the university, love for their teammates, and love of the game.

LIU surged from a three-win season in coach Rod Strickland’s debut to win the NEC regular-season and tournament titles this spring, building something real in Brooklyn. Their season is over now, but the story of what they built, and the guys who were part of it even when their names never appeared in a box score, is worth remembering.

That’s the thing about March that never gets old. The stars get the highlights, the top seeds get the narratives, and the analysts get the brackets. But the tournament has always belonged, in some quiet corner, to the guys at the end of the bench, the ones who wait, who practice, who believe, and who sometimes, if they’re lucky, get one swing.

Eddie Munyak swung. It went in. And somewhere, years from now, he’ll pull out that video with his friends, show his kids, even brag a little that he was able to compete against the best in the country. 

That’s what March Madness is all about. In its full roundabout form, it encompasses the spirit of sports and the impact it can have. Those three points on paper mean nothing, but they also mean everything at the same time.