His first family, nearly all 18 children and grandchildren strong, howled and flailed and jumped and hugged each other at the edge of the Alamodome court in a screaming scrum of laughter and tears. His second family -- Loren Woods and Richard Jefferson and Gilbert Arenas and all the rest of Arizona's now familiar Aristo-'Cats -- began to cut the nets down. Somehow in the middle of it all, he stayed calm, composed -- Cool Hand Lute Olson, acting untouched by the bittersweetness of the whole thing.

Less than three months ago he had buried his beloved wife, Bobbi. Sunday night, his team laid to rest any lingering perception that it was some unprepared-for-prime-time puffweight.

It was ancient stuff, of course, advancing to the Final Four. This made Olson's fifth trip in all (four with Arizona, one with Iowa). But as the patriarch accordioned himself back and forth among his devoted followers, Olson surely couldn't help but recall the heart-filling moment in '97 when he shared this celebration with his companion of 47 years, when he carried not only Arizona to its first national championship weekend but swept his wife off her feet and (Al Gore didn't invent this either) kissed her right there on national television.

Now, another repeat was joyful and sorrowing in equal measure. What must it be like to become prince of the prom and not get to romance the princess? "He won't say it," said Olson's son, Greg, "but this one is for Mom."

On the court, Arizona's 87-81 Wrestlemaniacal win over Illinois said enough for the team's courage and physical endurance. Above all, it was a bone-shaking vindication for the formerly "soft" team from the "soft" conference -- the Pac 10 boasted fully 37.5% of the Elite Eight before the ACC sent the other two West Coasters packing. But in San Antonio, Arizona didn't so much remember the Alamo as remember Maui (where the 'Cats beat the Illini last Thanksgiving week before losing to them three weeks later in Chicago).

The Cats always looked the superior team, even when they were busy holding off a late Illinois run. Arizona made 21 of 26 from the line in the last 5:17, when a trip to Minneapolis depended on just about every one.

"Many times games come down to free throws in the last few minutes," said Woods, the often-maligned Wildcat center whose post-game dissertations are normally a tad less obvious than that. (Recall his brilliant "I should have gone pro rather than stay in school," a few weeks ago.) But Arizona was never so fortunate that Woods did stay -- his 12 of 13 free throws and seven blocked shots null-and-voided Illinois' inside attack.

"People need to pay attention to our defense," said Mean Gene Edgerson afterward -- his retro 'fro split sideways creating a pair of fuzzy propellers under the "2001 Regional Champions" visor the NCAA spontaneously produced. "When our five guys are giving the gang effort, we are a baaad defensive team." Especially the 6'7" Jefferson, who took up the challenge of checking Illinois' wondrous 6'3" lead guard Frank Williams (30 points against Kansas in the Sweet 16) and then helped hold him to three-of-15 shooting and just nine points.

"As Frank goes, so goes Illinois. We needed to deny him easy looks," said Arizona assistant coach Rod Tention, a former player at San Francisco (where Bill Russell invented defense). "We told Richard to watch it, the second half would be Frank Williams time. But Richard's height and [reach] kept being a problem for him." With Jefferson, spelled by Luke Walton, hounding the Illini leader even on penetration, Williams couldn't get involved until it was too late. Then he began to press and force.

Freed by a switch, Williams finally made a three to bring Illinois to 84-81 with seventeen seconds left. But after Jason Gardner made one of two free throws, Williams came down for one last suspense-prolonging attempt from beyond the arc at :12. But Jefferson flew at him, and Williams' shot flew long -- battle, ballgame, regional and war to Arizona, a fitting climax to a full-on epic that even presaged the night's other main event: the Oscar won by Gladiator.

"Casey Jacobsen of Stanford is the toughest guy I've guarded, but Frank is right up there," said Jefferson (who will get another comparison-shop op against Michigan State's Jason Richardson in the national semis). "He's so calm, he never changes expression and he's saved them so many times. But I could tell he was having trouble seeing things develop. We knew those threes were coming. We were just trying to live through them."

Still Illinois -- which got a yeoman effort from sub center Robert Archibald (a native of Paisley, Scotland, near St. Andrews, who kept hacking his way through the rough with a three-iron for 25 points) -- seemed never out of the fray. At one late juncture the Arizonans were even shaking from their own storm. Bickering over a rare defensive breakdown, the team was pulled together into a huddle by the scatty 'Cat, Gardner (18 points, 5 rebounds, 5 assists).

Jefferson: "Jason said 'Listen, there will be no yelling. There will be only helping. We are brothers. We got here as family. We're staying as family.'"

Now they're leaving as a family for the Final Four. Which makes one man's two Arizona families about to mingle in Minny.

They won't say it much, either, but this isn't only for their coach or themselves. The 'Cats dance on for Bobbi.

Curry Kirkpatrick is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at curry.kirkpatrick@espnmag.com.