After the award ceremony, the national champion UCLA Bruins remained at center court.
Next up was the most prestigious individual honor — the MOP (Most Outstanding Player) — followed by the special net-cutting ceremony.
At this moment, Russell Westbrook had already grabbed a champagne bottle from the staff on the sidelines. He shook it vigorously, popped the cork, and sprayed it straight at Snoopy.
Snoopy was drenched in champagne. Just as he was about to retaliate, the announcer's voice echoed through the arena:
"The Most Outstanding Player of this year's NCAA Final Four is… Snoopy!"
"Huh?"
Snoopy froze.
Beside him, Westbrook stopped shaking the champagne bottle — the fizz sprayed right back into his own face.
What? Not me?
Westbrook was struck with disbelief. He'd put up 22 points and 9 assists in one game, then followed it with a triple-double tonight. How could it not be me? It's Snoopy?!
He stared toward the podium where Chairman Sean was announcing the winner, fighting the urge to storm up there and demand a recount. This has to be a mistake. Come on.
But the staff were already bringing out the laser-engraved MOP trophy — Snoopy's name gleaming on its base.
Pushed forward by Coach Ben Howland, Snoopy walked to center court to accept the NCAA's highest individual honor.
When the host handed him the microphone, he was still in a mild daze.
He took a deep breath to steady himself.
"First of all, I'm very happy to receive this trophy. It's been about three months since I last won one — the previous one was the National Economics Outstanding Rookie Award."
The audience laughed lightly.
"Honestly, three months ago, I never would've imagined that my next trophy would come from basketball. At that time, basketball was probably my least favorite sport. I even complained about being assigned to the athletes' dorm — I couldn't stand my roommate's sweat and terrible living habits."
"But now, I'm one of them. And together, we've won a national championship — UCLA's first since 1995. Standing here, I feel like I'm touching history itself. We once won ten straight titles, you know!"
"Finally, I want to thank my teammates. If possible, I'd like the engraver to add every one of their names — and our coaches'. This honor belongs to all of us. I only did my part. Thank you, everyone. Thank you, NCAA!"
His speech was graceful, humble, and perfectly composed — earning thunderous applause.
Then came the John Wooden Award, which went to Tyler Hansbrough from North Carolina.
He didn't seem particularly excited — he just promised that he'd return for another year until he brought a championship back to UNC. It was the vow made by the Tar Heel trio before the tournament — and their determination earned them cheers from the crowd.
At the sidelines, Westbrook turned to Snoopy, half-joking, half-serious:
"Snoopy, if we weren't best friends, I'd accuse the NCAA of favoritism. You know my stats were clearly better."
Then he added, "Promise me — this is the last time you steal one of my trophies. Your desk is already full of them."
Snoopy burst out laughing, patted his shoulder, and handed him the MOP trophy.
"Here, take it."
Westbrook raised his chin proudly.
"No thanks. I'll get my trophies in the NBA."
Snoopy chuckled again.
Then the players began climbing the ladder one by one to cut down the net.
Snoopy was placed third to last — behind him were Westbrook and Coach Howland, which unofficially marked Snoopy as second in team hierarchy (third if Kevin Love had been present).
After the ceremony ended, reporters swarmed the court.
Snoopy was one of the main attractions. Most of the questions circled around whether he'd enter the 2008 NBA Draft, and if he was really dating Miley Cyrus.
He dodged both questions gracefully — neither confirming nor denying, smiling his way through.
He refused to confirm the relationship because he didn't want to lie.
And he didn't announce his draft plans because he wanted his professor, Mr. Nelson, to hear it from him first — not from a TV broadcast.
After half an hour of polite media deflection, Snoopy headed toward the players' tunnel.
As he was about to enter, a surprising figure appeared — Kobe Bryant, escorted by bodyguards.
The Black Mamba himself walked straight up and extended his hand.
"I like your game," Kobe said. "It's got that relentless Mamba mentality. You should enter the draft this year. Now is your moment."
Then, in his signature authoritative tone:
"Never believe those who say you should 'spend two years in college to develop your skills.' The NBA's training level is far superior to the NCAA's."
Kobe's words carried the air of an elder lecturing a young prodigy — something he'd grown fond of doing as his career matured. He loved mentoring rookies, especially those who credited him as their inspiration.
Snoopy raised an eyebrow, slightly bemused but polite.
"Thank you."
Kobe patted his shoulder.
"I'll have the team trade for a first-round pick. I want you at the Lakers' facility this summer."
"Consider that your draft guarantee."
Snoopy blinked. That's it?
His teammates like Luc Mbah a Moute had told him that getting a "draft guarantee" usually required endless workouts and interviews — and here, Kobe just granted one?
Kobe took a few steps away, then suddenly turned back.
"Can I see your MOP trophy?"
Snoopy handed it over.
It was the first time in Kobe Bryant's life he'd ever touched an MOP trophy — he'd gone straight from high school to the NBA, skipping college entirely.
He ran his fingers over the engraved letters and smiled faintly.
He hoped that this little trophy might bring him luck — because what he truly longed for now was a Finals MVP of his own.