There were roughly three minutes left in the half.
Up to that point, everything had gone smoothly in the Curb Event Center.
Belmont’s offense was clicking, giving top-ranked Indiana State all it could handle.
With a media timeout taking place, I checked my notes so that I could update the score.
That’s when it happened.
I saw people standing up and waving their arms while they screamed.
Ah, it’s just the T-shirt toss.
But then no one else in the arena was screaming.
Those were screams for help.
That’s when reality set in.
Something isn’t right.
An elderly gentleman in the audience was having a medical emergency.
At that moment, it wasn’t about the game anymore.
I don’t know how long I sat at the media table. Time slowed down.
The game I use to protect me from horrible events can’t even do that right now.
I just sat there and tried to ignore it all.
Apparently, so did everyone else.
After about 20 minutes, the medics carried a seemingly unconscious man out on a stretcher.
And what did we all do?
Shortly after, both teams went back out for a warmup to the sound of applause.
Fans went about their business, hoping the Bruins would win.
No prayer, no moment of silence, no acknowledgment of anything.
But for me, I could only think about one thing.
How can we pretend we didn’t just see what we did?
How has everyone else already moved on?
How can Belmont basketball take precedence over everything else?
Maybe it’s because I have a fear of death since it can strike at any minute without notice.
But to me, three minutes wasn’t enough time to process everything that I had just seen.
A man’s life was at risk. His family thought they would be enjoying a night of fun basketball.
Sometimes, life is bigger than basketball.
I just wish that sentiment was shown at the game.
This article was written by Ty Wellemeyer