DENVER -- Sitting up at the NCAA Tournament podium Wednesday afternoon, Derrick Low politely answered questions from the media assembled in the bowels of the spacious Pepsi Center:

"When it comes to the peripherals of this tournament, the travel, the sightseeing, where do you see you making the biggest adjustment from being in Sacramento a year ago and having experienced that?"

"Do you have any memories or stories of being hunted, when you realize that a team really respected you or its fans really respected you? What was it like kind of encountering that new status as the hunted?"

"You're not going to be here next year, but they're moving the 3-point line back. What is your thought on that? Do you think it's become too easy?"

"Can you look back and talk about the culture shock living in Honolulu, moving to Pullman?"

"What other schools were you primarily recruited by?"

"Derrick, from where you were when this program started to where it is now, what was it like trying to be patient of where it is now?"

Being the center of media attention, along with fellow senior guard Kyle Weaver, representing the rest of his teammates on a Washington State team seeded No. 4 in the East Region (which many analysts regard as the tournament's toughest), Low handled it all with the grace and aplomb of a veteran. Which, by now, he is.

A year ago in Sacramento, Low was the center of attention, too, and to be honest by the end of game day in the first round he looked visibly exhausted from the media barrage.

Yesterday, he appeared much more relaxed, much more prepared for the big stage. Low also appeared to be very loose in the short practice session after the press conference, on the Pepsi Center floor. As he did last year, he led the team onto the court and was at the center of their circle at midcourt as they went through some stretching drills.

My question at the press conference, by the way, was: "These last few weeks, you've had a lot of people from back home showing up to your games, some old faces. Even tomorrow, your high school coach is coming, your youth coach, your best friend from elementary school ... Have you done a lot of reflection in these last couple of weeks and are you savoring this moment as your career winds down?"

His full answer is published in today's Advertiser print and on-line editions, but regarding his family and friends showing up to games (in Pullman, at Cal, at Stanford, in Denver), he said, "... just because this is the last time. They're not going to get another chance to watch me, you know, play a home game, a 'Senior Night' or an NCAA tournament game."

You don't have to be a family member or friend to appreciate what Low will experience today, being front and center on college basketball's biggest stage. If you are a basketball fan in or from Hawai'i, today is for you.

One of us -- a local kid, who played in our youth leagues, who "called next game" in pickup ball at our city parks, whom we watched in our high school gyms -- is smack dab in the middle of March Madness. Where all of us could only dream of being, he actually is there.

No other local player, not Red Rocha, not Alika Smith, not Julian Sensley, not even Kalia McGee and Jarinn Akana (role players on UH's 1994 NCAA team) was ever quite in this position before, and unless there is some eighth-grade phenom we haven't heard about yet, there isn't anybody on the horizon who will be there soon.

Hopefully there will be, but history tells us the odds are slim.

I think Derrick Low himself realizes this, how unique an experience it is, and is savoring every moment.

So should we.

Mid-Pacific has emerged as the early leader in what promises to be a barn-burner of an ILH baseball championship race.

It's been what seems like a while since the Owls have been atop the league standings, but really it's only been four years since MPI was the ILH champion. Remember Harry Kuroda's long-relief shutout effort vs. Punahou in the 2004 title game at Aloha Stadium?

Thinking back, since then and even way back all the way to the late 1980s/early 1990s, was there ever a year when Mid-Pacific was not one of the teams to watch in the league race?

I remember those days in the early 1990s, one of the highlights of the state tournament every year was watching the Owls take infield practice right before the game. It was like watching one of those instructional videos they advertise on TV: such sound fundamentals, good form, precision footwork, accurate throws, sharp execution, hustle.

And like they say, you play like how you practice.

Almost 20 year later, MPI still looks almost the same, a lot of things haven't changed. The Owls still are the model of disciplined, fundamental baseball, with great attention to detail and execution.

Playing a team like this must be so stressful, because you cannot really hope for them to make mistakes to help you out. And you've got to be always on your toes, because they definitely will capitalize on your mistakes.

On the surface, to some it might appear as if Coach Dunn Muramaru has mellowed just a bit from his high intensity days of 15, 20 years ago. But watching him on Saturday, it was clear to me Dunn still doesn't miss a thing.

Even with a 6-0 lead in the bottom of the second inning, he was watching every pitch closely. When his starter walked the first two batters, he immediately sent somebody to the bullpen to warm up and went to the mound to give the pitcher stern instructions. Three batters — a fielder's choice grounder, a walk and RBI single — later, Muramaru yanked the starter with a 6-1 lead.

While some coaches might have relaxed and breathed a little easier being up five or six runs, Dunn knew better.

"They kept having good at-bats," Muramaru said of Punahou.

His hunch proved right, as the Buffanblu quickly closed it to 6-3. One inning later, when Punahou again got its first two batters aboard trailing 8-3, Dunn again did not hesitate to change pitchers even with a five-run lead. The Buffanblu got another run off a sacrifice fly to make it 8-4, but the reliever (Dylan Tawata) got two flyouts to end the inning.

Even on offense, Mid-Pacific showed great execution with quality at-bats. Very few swings at bad pitches, good knowledge of and patience with the strike zone, good hustle on the base paths. You can tell it's the type of team that rarely misses signs. If a player did, they know Muramaru might come with the hook on the spot.

They got three straight bunts in the second inning -- a sacrifice to move the runner to second, a bunt single and a squeeze.

They got clutch hits with runners on base and after two outs.

Defensively, the only error was a debatable one in which a low line drive swerved and dipped under the third baseman's glove and into left field. A generous scorekeeper might have given the batter a hit. I scored it an error only because the fielder did not have to move to his right or left and I thought he had a chance to at least knock the ball down and make the throw.

It could have gone either way.

The past couple years, the Owls suffered through some growing pains with a young roster, with some physical and mental mistakes expected.

But now a lot of these guys are veterans, and they have benefited from the varsity experience.

It's a dangerous team, a confident team.

An undefeated team in the ILH ... so far.

According to Pacific Islands Athletic Alliance director Doris Sullivan, her program has assisted in over 800 Hawai'i high school athletes receiving a combined $10 million in college scholarships over the past eight years.

If this is true, and if the program is indeed in danger of folding as soon as June 1 or even earlier due to lack of funding, then to me the answer is obvious: Every one of those 800 kids -- or at least the ones who have graduated and are working (300?) -- should take out their checkbook this weekend and send PIAA at least $20.

Their parents should probably do the same.

Just think, if they all did that, PIAA would have about $10,000 next week, enough to keep it afloat at least through the summer when more fund-raising efforts can take place.

I can relate to Doris' situation, because I happen to belong to a non-profit, all-volunteer organization that awards $6,000-$7,000 worth of college scholarships and summer internship subsidies to local students every year. And the local chapter is 20 years old.

I often ask, "Whatever happened to all those students who received checks from 1987 through 2002, who are out of school and working now?" Actually, we don't need their money so much as their participation in our chapter.

(But of course, we wouldn't turn down cash donations, either)

Like PIAA, we help the students with no strings attached, but the point is, I would think it eventually would cross the minds of the fortunate recipients later on to remember who helped them reach their educational or career goals. Especially if those who helped are now in a time of need themselves.

The reason I am involved myself -- despite having little spare time and energy -- is because the national organization helped me get two full-time jobs on the Mainland and because the local chapter needed volunteers. After what the organization did for me, I couldn't say no.

I don't know too much about exactly how PIAA works with kids seeking scholarships, except that Doris takes their profile and distributes it to up to 300 colleges, that she corresponds with college coaches on behalf of the athletes, puts on SAT workshops to help improve their scores and a combine to record their 40-times and bench press/squats so colleges can have that info.

She said NCAA rules prohibit her from charging a fee, because if she did then she would be not be allowed to talk to college coaches.

But like Doris said, doing all this stuff takes money. If she lives in Kailua and goes to see a kid in Kapolei, that's about $15 in gas alone round trip. During the busiest recruiting period -- November, December, January, early February -- she's constantly on the phone long distance, all day, every day.

That's how a phone bill can reach $900.

She paid her own airfare and hotel costs to the AFCA (college football coaches) convention at Anaheim in January, a trip that ran into the thousands.

Insurance alone for the combine costs about $1,200, she said.

So now, Doris is in a quandary. She still believes strongly in the program, that it is serving the community by helping local kids further their education.

But she no longer is in a position to dip into her own pocket again and again just to keep it alive. She said she's already spent $25,000 of her own money in the past five years.

Doris admitted she's not an adept fundraiser, and says she's not good at asking for money. I can relate.

But I think she should not be alone in believing in the program and wanting to keep it alive. Supposedly there are hundreds of kids and their parents out there who have benefited, so those people should be the first ones now to give back, no?

For the sake of Doris, PIAA and all the future kids they might be able to help, I hope they do.

No question, Word of Life faces a lot of challenges in its upcoming inaugural ILH varsity football season. It'll be a young squad, with few seniors and most of the players lacking varsity experience. And with a high school enrollment of only 300, including girls, WOLA will be the smallest school in the league by far.

With no campus field, the team will have to practice at Sand Island every day.

But as far as start-up varsity programs go, the Firebrands also have a lot going for them.

For one thing, they already are blessed with a lot of great athletes. They have a coach (Joe Onosai) who has been a head coach in the league before (at Pac-Five), so he knows exactly what the program is getting into. Word of Life, with help from some players from other Pac-Five schools, won the ILH intermediate championship last season.

They have a nice weight room that is almost brand new.

As a church, Word of Life has abut 6,000 members at five different locations around the island, so they have a fan base and extended support. Not to mention an expanded pool of athletes to potentially draw from.

Onosai said ever since leaving the head coach job at Pac-Five, and coaching the intermediate, he has had more time to research offenses and find a system that will fit the varsity program.

Onosai also said he has been closely watching the progress of Anuenue, which joined the OIA varsity White Conference two years ago. Na Koa began with similar obstacles, but have had some impressive showings so far.

"We face the same challenges and are in the same boat," Onosai said. "But Anuenue is a good example that shows you may be small, but if you believe in yourself and stay committed, you can have some success."

I still remember the early August day back in 2003 when I found out Derrick Low had made a verbal commitment to play basketball for Washington State University.

I actually was at Los Angeles International Airport, waiting for a plane to take me home after a 12-day trip to Italy and Southern California.

Derrick's dad, Ken, told me over the phone that a commitment had been made, and like everybody else who found out two days later, I was kind of shocked. Not so much because it was Washington State, because I knew Dick and Tony Bennett had coveted Derrick more than anybody else and worked the hardest to get him.

But the timing surprised me, because earlier he had said he planned to take all of his official recruiting trips that fall before making a final decision. He had visited only Utah up to that point, and hadn't even been to WSU's campus in Pullman, Wash.

Low also was offered recruiting trips to Gonzaga and Hawai'i.

But with a certainty that belied his youth, I saw Derrick say with conviction the next night that Washington State was the right place for him.

When he later visited Pullman -- from many accounts, not exactly an enticing kind of destination for most 17-year-olds -- it actually strengthened his desire to go there to live for the next four years.

At the time, the Cougars were at the bottom of the Pac-10, having won 10 or 12 games combined the previous two years.

Even Low's first two years at Washington State did not convince some people that it was the best choice for him. He broke his foot in each of those seasons, sidelining him for several weeks both times.

The Cougars improved, but their record still was mediocre and they still were a few wins shy of smelling the postseason.

But that was just a buildup for the past two years, which have been almost everything a college basketball player could ask for. Each one with at least 23 wins, a consistent presence in the AP Top 25 poll, NCAA Tournament berths (it's a virtual lock on Selection Sunday).

Soldout arenas. Fan appreciation and adoration. Invitations to the Pan Am Games team and Wooden Award Top 30 list. All-Pac-10 honors.

Last Saturday's Senior Night festivities, plus a 76-73 double-overtime victory over arch rival Washington before 10,630 fans, however, might have been the official stamp of Low's success at Wazzu and slammed the door on any question of that being the right place for his college career.

For him to receive that framed "No. 2" jersey after walking out to halfcourt with his dad, to the roaring standing ovation of the 10,630, was almost like he graduated, like he already received his diploma (which he will in May). And the "basketball diploma" has success written all over it.

So to me, everything else that happens to Low basketball-wise from now on is pure gravy, icing on the cake.

Sure, it would be a huge disappointment to lose early in either or both the Pac-10 or NCAA Tournaments. But such losses in either or both can no longer erase or diminish the accomplishments of Low and his teammates the past four years. Their body of work is too great now for anything -- even early postseason exits -- to bring it down.

I wasn't there, but I think Saturday night showed that. Derrick Low left Wazzu's Friel Court a helluva lot better than the way he found it four years ago, he left it with a treasure chest of memories and great moments that won't be soon forgotten.

I don't know if anybody else could have envisioned all that has happened there during that time.

But somehow, Low did, way back on that early August day in 2003.

"I never had any doubt," Low said Monday night.

Yes, it was a good choice. We know that for sure now.