Rob Curley: Gonzaga returns home to hero’s welcome as players and fans show the love

The plane ride from Phoenix to Spokane was quiet. Some slept. Others read. Many of the players wore headphones, listening to music they may or may not have actually been hearing.

But as soon as the chartered jet carrying the Gonzaga basketball team landed in Spokane, that uneasy, anxious feeling – a mixture of exhaustion and sadness, really – began to change a little.

First, it was noticing the oversized signs at the airport welcoming them home – signs telling them, literally, how proud their hometown was of them. These were signs large enough the players could easily see them from inside the plane’s cabin.

A few of the Bulldogs began to take pictures on their cellphones.

Then there were the people waiting for them at the airport.

Everyone there was wearing at least one thing that said Gonzaga. Or Bulldogs. Or just “Zags.” And they were cheering. Kinda loudly. These weren’t the little golf claps we’re going to hear at the Masters golf tournament all this week.

This was something more from the heart.

As the team piled into the bus that would take them back to the Gonzaga campus, it was hard for the players to not notice all of the law-enforcement vehicles, as well as all of the folks in the types of uniforms that usually go with those cars.

The Bulldogs were about to get a full police escort for their trip home. And a large police escort, at that.

Around this same moment, the crowd that had been growing at the McCarthey Athletic Center since earlier that afternoon began to cheer. Well, it was more like a collective scream – the type you hear at boy-band concerts.

Why all of the excitement? Someone just yelled the team had landed and was on the way to the Kennel.

Within minutes, the crowd began the “We are GU” cheer. Things had turned into an impromptu rally. Well, more of a raucous revival, really.

As the team’s bus exited off I-90 onto Hamilton, the Zag faithful got louder. The “Go Gonzaga” cheer began. It kept building.

Then the Bulldog bus pulled in front of the Kennel. The place erupted.

Still sitting in their seats, the players began filming what they were seeing. And the fans were filming what they were seeing.

It was the perfect picture of what had developed between this team, its fans and our community this year. And neither wanted to forget it. So everyone’s cellphone was out.

Towering freshman Zach Collins was a part of the first group off the bus. There was almost a reluctance, or maybe it was just a moment of hesitation, before he began high-fiving a sea of hands.

That scene repeated itself, first with more players. Then with the coaching staff. And then with head coach Mark Few. The longtime Zags leader was more deliberate, not just signing autographs, but talking with fans, thanking them.

Then they were all gone, back into the arena that had roared for them all season but was now as quiet as the Foley Center Library. The crowd outside looked around, wondering if it was really over.

It wasn’t.

One by one, the players came back out. And with each new appearance by a Bulldog, the crowd exploded.

So many autographs. So many photos. So many handshakes.

The crowd that surrounded them looked like us. It sounded like us. All of us.

Young. Old. Children. Skins of all color. All sorts of accents. Tattoos. Nuns. Beer drinkers and milk drinkers.

It’s what Spokane looks like when we’re united by something bigger than just individuals, and instead become the living embodiment of the word “community.”

There have been times when we needed this team to lift us up, to help us dream bigger, show us that we are so much more than what people think we might be.

On Tuesday, this community did the same for the Bulldogs.

Spokane showed a group of young men whose hearts hurt that they had accomplished something noble and unforgettable. And that it not only wouldn’t be forgotten, it would be appreciated at levels you simply can’t understand if you weren’t there.

This is Gonzaga athletic director Mike Roth’s home. He understands how everyone feels – the fans, the team, the coaches, the school and the community.

“Of course, the kids are heartbroken,” he says, as he watches the crowd soothe the players’ pain with love and respect. “This is the perfect salve to help heal a broken heart.”

This is what a family – even an extended family of a couple of hundred thousand people – does. We take care of each other.

As things began to wind down on Tuesday, Gonzaga all-everything guard Nigel Williams-Goss signed autographs for everyone who wanted his name written on the piece of cardboard that said “Go Zags!”

First, the crowd chanted his name. “Nigel! Nigel! Nigel!”

Then they began chanting something else.

“One more year! One more year!”

He flashed that smile we all have seen so many times year – the smile we’ll all remember far longer than the unbelievable sadness he wore on his face Monday night.

As he eventually made his way into the parking lot, along with teammate Johnathan Williams, the two stopped each time someone asked for an autograph. Or wanted to talk. Or just wanted a handshake.

It will take time for it to sink in, just what this basketball team did, especially for the players. The feelings are still so raw for them.

Way back in November of 2016, no one in the world would have predicted the Gonzaga Bulldogs – of Spokane, Washington – would be leading the North Carolina Tar Heels – of College Basketball Royalty – in the NCAA national championship game with 101 seconds left.

Well, maybe the guys in that locker room inside the Kennel.

On Tuesday, that building had a huge sign on it that said, “Thank You Spokane. You’re No. 1.”

If we are, it’s because our Zags taught us.