Naked Truth Is Out There, and It Isn’t Pretty

And so this morning we awaken, quite stunned, to find the emperor quite naked.

Stripped of a national championship.

Shorn of a Heisman Trophy.

Shivering.

“I can’t say why ... it’s hard to explain ... there is no excuse,” whispered defensive tackle Anthony Fletcher late Saturday afternoon.

Around him in the UCLA locker room there were glares, loud curses, a slamming chair.

Outside in Stanford Stadium there were people screaming and chanting, players doing midfield back flips.

The emperor is naked and our football world has gone mad, after the fourth-ranked UCLA football team stunningly fell to Stanford, 38-28, on a cool afternoon of sudden change.

The Bruins were only five wins against lesser-ranked opponents from appearing in a national championship game in their home stadium.

Now, a lifetime away.

“Quite possibly, we lost something we can’t get back,” Coach Bob Toledo said solemnly.

DeShaun Foster was only five decent games from winning the Heisman Trophy.

Now, it has squirted from his grasp like his second-quarter fumble that led to Stanford’s second touchdown in two minutes.

The Cardinal held Foster to 77 yards rushing and taunted him into losing his cool and shoving linebacker Coy Wire for a penalty that led to another stunted drive.

“We knew he was their heart, so we attacked their heart,” Wire said with a grin.

In doing so, they pierced an aura.

The Blizzard of Westwood defense? Slush.

The smart and conservative offense? Silly and wild.

A great second-half comeback? “I wish we had shown all that heart from the start,” said linebacker Ryan Nece.

How bad was it? Plumb out of ideas, Toledo walked off the sideline with 11 seconds left and waited at midfield for the clock to wind down so he could shake hands and disappear.

“I never thought ... “ linebacker Robert Thomas said.

Who did? Who could have?

The game began with fumble-grabbing Nece running into the end zone, glaring into the cameras, thumping his chest.

Yet it ended with kicker Chris Griffith kneeling on the sidelines, staring at the ground, thumping it with his fist.

It began with the notion that, for once, the Bruins had the defense to win a national championship.

Yet it ended with the realization that it really didn’t matter.

Because--how ironic for a Toledo team--the Bruins didn’t have the offense.

While the loss brought back memories of the 1998 championship-throttling defeat in Miami, this sucker punch was different.

In 1998, it was about missed tackles.

On Saturday, it was about missed opportunities.

Certainly, Stanford scored five touchdowns Saturday against a Bruin defense that was overpowered by the Pac-10’s biggest and best offensive line.

But Stanford also committed six turnovers.

UCLA converted only two of those blunders into points.

During the first half, when the Bruins fell behind, 28-7, in a start that essentially ended the game, Cory Paus completed less than one-third of his passes while Foster ran for 29 yards.

The defense was forced to stay on the field for more than 21 of the 30 minutes.

“We didn’t generate any offense, so we wore down a bit defensively,” Toledo said. “Our defense was tired.”

And here came that question everyone hoped to avoid.

What happens if their quarterback needs to take control of a game?

It happened. And he couldn’t.

With the Cardinal stacking the line against Foster, and with the deficit mounting, this was Paus’ turn to win a game.

He started UCLA’s first offensive series with a brilliant sideline pass to Ryan Smith. But most of the rest of his throws were either too long, too wide, or dropped.

Although he was sidelined after injuring his thumb at the end of the first half, Paus probably would have been replaced by Scott McEwan anyway.

“No comment,” Toledo said when asked that question.

As usual, Paus stuck around afterward to bravely take the blame, saying, “Now we have to show what we’re all about. We can’t let this ruin anything.”

The problem is, it already has.

Gone was not only the feeling of invincibility for this team, but also that of its coach.

Late in the first half, trailing, 28-7, UCLA faced fourth down and 19 from the Stanford 29-yard line.

For a team attempting a prolonged comeback, this would have been a good time to try a 46-yard field goal.

Griffith, in fact, was three for four from 40 yards or longer this season.

But Toledo, in keeping with his nature, went for the quick kill. He watched Paus run around in the backfield for what seemed like hours before throwing the ball into coverage and off the hands of Stanford cornerback Ryan Fernandez.

“We were ... kicking into a little bit of a wind, and we were down by three touchdowns,” Toledo explained later. “I just felt we needed to try to make something happen.”

A couple of hours later, of course, those three points looked a tad better when his team trailed by exactly three points and had the ball on its 39-yard line.

Maybe then, McEwan doesn’t feel he needs to throw a long pass on fourth down to win the game.

A pass that sailed five yards over the head of Ryan Smith.

A season that has sailed over roses into doubt.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com.