THE CHEAP SEATS with STEVE CAMERON: Zags were so far, and yet so close

You’re stuck on one of two storylines if you watched the NCAA hoops title game Monday night. 

If you’re a Zag, passionately or maybe even casually, you’re thinking that Mark Few’s guys could have been in this game. 

And they wouldn’t be out of place. 

Gonzaga’s Khalif Battle lost the handle on a shot that would have tied Houston right at the buzzer in the tournament’s second round. 

That’s how close the teams were, and how outrageous it was to stick the Zags with an 8-seed. 

So, they had to slug it out with Houston in the round of 32 instead of deep, deep in the tourney. 

And Houston, obviously, led the championship game for all but one minute, 41 seconds before losing out to Florida’s gang of big, tough, athletic and gutty winners in a 65-63 thriller. 

“That could have been us,” Zag junkies had to be telling each other during that last heavyweight title bout in San Antonio. 

OK, that’s stretching a little, because Houston had to win some stunning games to reach the final. 

It’s probably not fair to assume that Gonzaga would outscore Duke 11-1 in just over the final minute to steal a Final Four game for the ages. 

BUT DID the Zags have enough athletes to fight anyone in the tournament, right up to Florida? 

Yeah, they did. 

Few and the entire Zag Nation, though, missed legitimate outside shooters all year — and in the world of very elite college hoops these days, I’m sorry. 

You need a couple of guys who can drill it. 

Under pressure. 

Not just standing in the corner, just someone ignored because of bad breath, either. 

To trade blows with the Floridas and Dukes and Houstons, you have to hit from deep with the shot clock running out and you just caught a pass off-balance. 

That’s what the Gators’ Walter Clayton Jr. did with the heat turned up to thermonuclear against Houston. 

On the other side of the mountain, you have to play defense like Jim Bowie and the guys at the Alamo — an appropriate reminder just a few miles away from the Alamodome court. 

Florida damn sure did that. 

It cannot be any fun to play either the Gators or Cougs, but Florida has more bigs who switch like crazy and somehow turn up swallowing every shooter. 

How fitting that the game ended like that, with the final seconds ticking down, Houston needing a bucket and Emmanuel Sharp with the ball and no more time. 

Sharp desperately rose for a 3-point try that would have wiped out that 65-63 deficit, but he found Chapman in the air and blocking out the sky above him. 

A shot would be blocked, dead certain. 

Last ditch effort: Sharp dropped the ball and let it fall to the floor, hoping that another Cougar would grab it. 

He couldn’t, or be called for a double dribble. 

Maybe. 

That’s not always as clear-cut a call as everyone thinks, but what mattered was that Sharp believed it. 

Instead of some Cougar heroics, however, there was a scrum around the rolling ball and the final buzzer signaled Florida’s third national championship. 

Houston, despite so many great teams in so many eras, must still wait for one — despite playing in the title game in 1983, 1984 and now this. 

IF YOU had no skin in this title game other than wanting to see what brand of basketball the riches of NIL can buy these days, it was a thriller. 

The collectives who fund the sport’s best teams — note that all four No. 1 seeds made it to San Antonio — get their money’s worth. 

More than anything Monday night, you got to see big, strong athletes who leave politeness in the dressing room. 

This game was just short of violence. 

There were times when it looked like the YMCA on Saturday afternoon, complete with bloody noses and no referees. 

Maybe they should have played, “Make it, take it.”

Speaking of the officials, a pattern emerged that happens again and again, and it drives me crazy. 

In the first half, the refs don’t even bring their whistles to the party. 

Hammer away and each other, fellas, and still no fouls. 

In the second half, though (and especially down the stretch), the officials take over. 

It becomes their game. 

With two great teams making play after play, and defense so tough that baskets are precious, the championship comes down to a call. 

Or a non-call. 

Somebody wins on free throws, or whistles. 

It cost Gonzaga a title. 

I’ll bet you remember. 

Email: scameron@cdapress.com 

Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press three times each week, normally Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday unless, you know, stuff happens. 

Steve suggests you take his opinions in the spirit of a Jimmy Buffett song: “Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On.”