With Snoopy using his mismatch advantage to completely dismantle Kansas's game plan, Bill Self had tried every adjustment he could.
He sent in Sasha Kaun, then Darnell Jackson.
Sasha was bigger and heavier, but too slow. He could body Snoopy up under the basket and grab a few boards and points, but on defense? He simply couldn't keep up with Snoopy's drives.
When Darnell Jackson checked in, Snoopy immediately dropped from the foul line into the paint, using his strength and bounce to overpower him.
The ones stronger than him weren't as quick.
The ones heavier than him weren't as agile.
The ones faster than him didn't have his strength.
And the ones better at driving didn't dare challenge his defense.
Against Kansas's four big men, each with different styles, Snoopy had a mismatch every single time.
And with his passing and playmaking, UCLA's shooters were firing on all cylinders.
Meanwhile, Westbrook kept slashing the rim like a lightning bolt.
As the minutes ticked away, the Bruins slowly but steadily built their lead.
With one minute left, Kansas still had no answer for Snoopy — and they were down nine points.
UCLA had possession.
Brandon Rush fouled Westbrook to stop the clock, and Bill Self called a timeout — only to signal his starters to the bench.
It was over.
Kansas was conceding the 2008 NCAA Championship.
The crowd inside Memorial Coliseum rose to its feet.
Following the DJ's lead, they began chanting the names of every starter —
but none louder than Russell Westbrook and Snoopy.
Snoopy had kept his promise.
Westbrook notched a triple-double with three minutes still remaining —
19 points, 11 assists, 12 rebounds, and 2 steals.
That stat line alone was enough to catapult him into the NBA Draft's top-three discussion.
With Michael Beasley and Derrick Rose already locked in as the presumptive top two picks, O.J. Mayo's hold on third was suddenly in danger.
Several mock drafts were already slotting Westbrook at No. 3.
"But the biggest hero of the night is Snoopy," commentator Earl Johnson declared before the final buzzer even sounded.
"He finished with 8 points, 5 rebounds, 6 assists, 4 blocks, and 2 steals — pure all-around brilliance. And his impact goes way beyond the box score. If he were even a little selfish, he'd be the one with the triple-double tonight."
"I hope TNT's media vote goes to him. In my eyes, Snoopy is the rightful Final Four MOP!"
Meanwhile, ESPN and ABBC seemed determined to take the opposite side.
With the outcome decided, their analysts began doubting Snoopy's NBA potential.
They argued that his college-level mismatches would vanish in the NBA:
"We've seen it a hundred times — all-around NCAA players who look lost against the world's top 400 athletes. In the NBA, every team has someone who can neutralize a player like Snoopy."
Snoopy couldn't hear their criticism.
He walked straight to Coach Ben Howland.
"Coach," he said with calm determination, "I'm going to announce tomorrow that I'm entering the 2008 NBA Draft."
Even through the deafening cheers, Howland heard him clearly.
The excitement froze on his face — then slowly faded.
He'd already come to terms with losing Westbrook, Kevin Love, even Luc Mbah a Moute.
They'd all been openly talking to agents. Everyone knew it.
But Snoopy? He hadn't shown any sign of preparing for this.
"Why?" Howland asked, voice tightening. "As far as I know, you're not short on money. You come from a good family, you've got academic scholarships — you don't need to leave early. Stay at UCLA, refine your skills for a couple of years, then hit the NBA fully formed."
He'd already been sketching out plans for a dynasty —
two more years with Snoopy at the core, maybe even a three-peat.
Snoopy met his eyes, serious and sincere.
"I'm sorry, Coach. My family's in real financial trouble.
"For the first nineteen years of my life, my parents gave me the best upbringing anyone could ask for.
"Now that I finally have the ability to help them, I can't hide in an ivory tower any longer."
They stood there in silence, looking at each other — unspoken respect between them.
Beeeeep!
The final buzzer echoed through the arena.
Confetti rained down from the rafters as a deafening roar swept across the court like a wave.
Coach Howland finally nodded.
"Okay," he said softly. "If this is your decision — as a grown man — then you have my blessing.
"And if you need anything, call me. I still have a few contacts in the NBA."
He patted Snoopy on the shoulder.
"Now go — enjoy this win."
At that moment, Luc Mbah a Moute and Bryan Wright ran over, lifted Snoopy up, and carried him to center court.
It had become a post-game tradition for the Bruins — tossing Snoopy high into the air again and again.
Nearly twenty times he rose and fell, surrounded by cheers.
When he finally landed, he spread his arms wide, pulling every teammate into a tight circle.
"Are you happy? Excited? You feel that rush of victory?"
"Right now, we're champions!"
"We're the heroes of this story!"
"We don't care what anyone says — this court is ours, and tonight, we roar!"
"Hands in — one last time!"
"Bruins!!"
Their voices exploded through the arena — wild, fearless, unrestrained.
The UCLA Bruins were not just champions.
They were the brightest stars in the City of Angels that night.
They had defended their city's basketball pride,
while Kansas could only smile bitterly and hoist the runner-up trophy.
The award ceremony began.
The NCAA chairman stepped up, showering the Bruins with praise and hanging gold medals around each player's neck.
When he shook Snoopy's hand, the official grinned warmly and said,
"I'm a fan of yours. The story you wrote this season will go down in NCAA history. I'm proud that our league had a player like you."
"Thank you," Snoopy replied with a gentle smile.
He lifted his eyes toward the glittering stars above the arena.
He already knew where he was headed next —
the NBA.