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  CAN YOU IMAGINE?  It's been sixty-two years since we felt this good. Sixty two years since a really really fat American won a gold medal in the Olympic Games.

  Like yours, my eyes moistened last night when I saw the American gold medal winning bobsled team jump into that souped up NASCAR entry called "The Night Train." It was like watching them boys from the Dukes of Hazard jump into the General Lee.  Yee haaa, who's gonna beat this lead sled down the hill?!?

  No one in the world, as it turned out.

   At least the skipper of the Night Train looked like a mechanic -- a short, fat, bald mechanic.  Steve Holcomb, driver/skipper of the USA's gold medal winning four-man bobsled team, is one of those guys that spandex wasn't made for.  During beefy  Team USA's  final run Saturday one of the NBC announcers marvelled,  " Look how low these athletes get in this sled."

  I'm sorry, that was just plain funny.

And to think that the United States has been denied this moment of national joy and accomplishment  since 1948.

IT'S BEEN 24 YEARS since we went through this as a city. Twenty-four years years since Villanova made believers of us all. In 1985 Villanova was Howanova did these guys get to the Final Four. Not only did 'Nova defy the odds by becoming the lowest seed ever (eighth) to win the title, the little suburban college near St. David's slayed Goliath in the process. Defending national champion Georgetown University. Home of Patrick Ewing, the most dominant center of his era, and John Thompson, whose status in the empire of college basketball coaches ranked him with Darth Vader. Georgetown was a force of nature. Villanova was the unguarded underdog about to become the perfect storm.

The final game was a passion play. Darth Vader versus Jake Nevins in a wheelchair. Villanova players were like knights versus the Orc hordes from Morder. Rumpled Rollie Massimino was the Rumplestiltskin with a secret to victory. Keep the score low. We can't run with Georgetown, but we can beat them by keeping the winning score under 70. Villanova beat Georgetown by a score of 66-64. Whodathunknova? Not me, not anyone. Except Nova. And Philadelphia. And the Big Five. And all that.

We watched Wowanova on Saturday night. Was that a great game or what? Villanova beat Pitt by two points with a half-second on the clock, and yet Pitt managed to almost win the game with a desperation three-pointer that was as close as the game itself. But down to the final seconds we all knew Villanova would win -- could win? -- no, would win. I don't know how I knew that, but I did. I felt the Force. This is a new feeling for me as a Philadelphia sports fan. I fear the Phillies have taught us bad habits. Like believing in the obvious.

The team I saw beat Pitt can beat anyone. Can Villanova lose? Of course. Should we savor this week on the mountain top? Yew betcha. Let me thank Villanova for giving us a week like this. Thank you Villanova. We haven't been here in 24 years. It feels so good because, you know, you're family. We (Temple, St. Joe's, Lasalle, Penn fans) hate you as much as ever, of course. But like five brothers fighting against each other with a fury only brothers can understand, we still want you to beat the "other" guy's ass. And even then it won't be nearly as good as beating yours.