Much ado is being made this week as journalists search the Hoya past for new story lines. I've already had would-be interviewers call me asking for contact information for Paul Tagliabue and Sleepy Floyd. Too bad they missed the centennial gala celebration of Georgetown basketball in February. That night, hundreds of story lines were all assembled in a single room.

Of course, it is remarkable that this amazing year of on-the-court success has occurred during the same year that we have commemorated all the previous seasons -- dating to the first in 1907. While this year's team members are well aware of their predecessors and their accomplishments, let me say -- before some writer overreaches for a story -- that there is no connection between the hoop centennial and our Final Four achievement. A nice coincidence? Yes. A causal nexus? Give me a break.

I want to take a break from the usual desire for instant contextualization and enjoy what these young 18-22 olds are still achieving. They are writing their own history right now. It is their time. As they perform and shine, we can appreciate their feats on their own merits.

As I made the four-hour trip home last night from the Meadowlands, I couldn't help but think about the three North Carolina fans who, wearing their sky-blue regalia, invaded the die-hard Georgetown fan section just behind the Hoya bench during the first half. They seated themselves in the vacant seats adjacent to me. Naturally, I told them if they did not have tickets for those locations, they would have to leave. The usher ultimately had to intervene and eject them from the section, but not before one of them had some unpleasant words for me. In the middle of the second half with the Hoyas down by 10 points, I sat in my aisle seat and was jolted by an extra-large cup of water being poured onto my chest and lap. I had an inkling who the culprit was. I leapt up and chased him to the top of the stairs where I grabbed him and turned him over to security. Now with my own adrenaline flowing, I got a second jolt when they asked me to go to the basement of the arena to fill out a report on the incident. Eager to get back to the game, I declined to press charges and the perpetrator was ejected from the facility. As I headed back to my seat, I related the saga to assistant AD Brian McGuire on my cell phone. I learned after missing five minutes of action, the Hoyas were still behind with three and a half minutes to play. I said to Brian: "We are going to win this one."

By the time I finally sat down again, the Hoyas were off to the races.

As with this formidable creature, Georgetown's next two opponents would do well approach with care. To quote another motto used on the seal of a 1778 twenty dollar bill from Georgia: "Nemo me impune lacesset." No one will provoke me with impunity.

A warning then, for those converging upon Atlanta: tread on the Hoyas at your own risk.