For the four years I’ve been at this University, I’ve gotten to watch Seimone Augustus play basketball.
I think now I finally understand the look that comes across people’s faces when they describe what it was like to see Pete Maravich play from 1967-70.
It’s the same kind of look I saw Augustus evoke at every game for four years.
There was the dead serious look on LSU athletic director Skip Bertman’s face four years ago when he called her the most important signing in LSU history.
There was the panicked look on opposing player’s faces when they tried to stop her.
There was the completely overwhelmed look on the ULM defender’s face in 2003. Augustus had the ball in transition. Confronted at midcourt by a defender she stopped and still dribbling, jumped in the air, kicked out both feet in a highstepping motion while simultaneously jerking her head one way and shoulders another. Then she blew past the defender to the basket. She may have scored. I’m still not sure because I was in awe of the best move I’ve ever seen.
There was the puzzled look on then coach Sue Gunter’s face as she tried to describe the above move. Twisting her face into a thoughtful expression as she searched for the words, Gunter finally said, “that was just Seimone being Seimone.” A coach with 40 years experience couldn’t describe what she had just seen.
There was the panicked look on fans’ faces in the PMAC one year ago when Augustus crumpled to the floor clutching her ankle and writhing in pain.
There was the relieved look on the same fans’ faces minutes later when she jogged back on the court and poured in her 51st straight double-digit scoring game.
There was the frustrated look on more than one reporter’s face because the Player of the Year spoke so softly her words often wouldn’t be picked up by a tape recorder.
There was the mischevious look on Augustus’ face during the Lady Tigers second Final Four run. She spent a lot of time on the bench in the early rounds because LSU kept blowing out opponents in the first half. Instead of the intense concentration screwed on her expression, she was laughing and joking with teammates as the Lady Tigers cruised through the first four rounds.
There was the distraught look on Augustus’ face later that season in the locker room of the RCA Dome in Indianapolis. She was crushed and fighting back tears because for the second straight year her team had fallen one game short of the national championship.
There was the same look on Augustus’ face four months later at Gunter’s memorial service. This time she was crushed and fighting back tears because she had lost more than a game.
There is the look that will be on her face Sunday when she walks off the court for the last time in Baton Rouge.
She’ll walk off the court and out of the building named after Pete Maravich. Maybe there will never be a basketball arena named after Seimone Augustus.
But I’ll be looking for it someday.
 
Elliott is a journalism senior.
Contact him at [email protected]