Bruins’ Davis chops fear, and BYU, down to size

“There is no way we’re losing this game.”

At some point in the autumnal life of every good football team, somebody has to say those words.

Somebody has to pry them off the cliff of a collapse. Somebody has to drag them from the smoke of a upset.

At some point in the history of every great football team, somebody has to shout through the chaos and stare down the fear.

In the sudden richness of the Rose Bowl shadows Saturday, that somebody was Bruce Davis.

His favored UCLA team was being pounded. The Bruins’ potentially wondrous season was being soiled. Their noon sweat was running cold.

BYU? It stood for Beat You Up.

Brigham Young? The Cougars brought ‘em hard, brought ‘em in waves, brought ‘em for more than three quarters while turning a 20-0 deficit into 20-17 into this:

Early in the fourth quarter, BYU ball, first down, end zone 13 yards away.

Davis, near exhaustion, stepped into the UCLA huddle, sucked another breath, and made himself clear.

“No disrespect to BYU, but we had been way up, and now we were down, and we all thought, ‘No way can we lose to this team, or any team, like this,’ ” Davis said. “It was like, ‘There’s no way we’re losing this game.’ ”

At some point in games like these for teams like the Bruins, somebody has to refuse to give in.

And at this point, with a judo rush and a karate punch, the Bruins didn’t.

Davis fought through a blocker. Knocked the ball out of quarterback Max Hall’s hand. UCLA’s Tom Blake fell on it. The Bruins were never threatened again.

It was UCLA 27, BYU 17, relieved sighs everywhere.

“Every great team needs to win a game like this,” Davis said afterward, his smile glittering like his earring.

He laughed about the instant replay examination that accompanied the play, the officials making certain that Hall’s arm wasn’t moving forward in a passing motion.

“I threw down the karate chop when his arm went back, I got the ball out before he could move it forward,” Davis said. “I told all the guys on the sidelines with me during the replay check, ‘Just hang out here, we ain’t going anywhere.’ ”

He also laughed when asked which blocker he beat.

“It was either number 64 or 65 or 66,” he said. “They put all three of them on me today, and I got past all of them.”

Davis, a senior defensive end who finished with seven tackles, including two sacks and that forced fumble moment, turned serious only when asked about the entire three hours.

“This is the kind of game I refer to as an eye-opener,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re a good team, but we still have weaknesses.”

That they won in spite of those weaknesses should give UCLA fans great hope.

But the fact that those weaknesses were so badly exposed against a Mountain West Conference team -- even one with an 11-game win streak -- will likely keep that hope loosely tucked inside their eternal angst.

Face it, BYU basically kicked the Bruins’ butts.

The Cougars outgained them, 435-236, and it didn’t seem even that close.

Ben Olson looked like the football equivalent of Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, thin and stringy and disheveled, the UCLA quarterback connecting on fewer than half of his passes, with more interceptions (one) than touchdowns (zilch).

Sometimes you watch this big guy and marvel. Other times you watch his floating passes and odd decisions and wonder, how can he survive Patrick Cowan, much less Cal and USC?

Then there was the Bruins’ running game, their two backs combining for barely 100 yards before the final clinching drive, making you wonder again.

Will Kahlil Bell or Chris Markey ever become the sort of runner who can carry UCLA when Olson can’t? And if not, won’t more games be like this one?

For most of Saturday, BYU was stronger and smarter and more passionate.

“I like their heart,” Coach Bronco Mendenhall said of his BYU team. “I like their willingness and their fight.”

But, man, do I love UCLA’s defense. Even when they’re wilting in the second half after being on the field for, like, seven hours, the Bruins are big, fast, and a blast.

They are about Bruce Davis’ strength, and Trey Brown’s speed, and full of swagger. They dive to the ball and dance to the sidelines and occasionally, momentarily, even stalk above the conquered.

“We don’t mind being on the field all the time, because we want to make plays to win games, and you can’t do that from the bench,” said Brown, who was typical of Saturday’s UCLA defense.

He was beaten twice for touchdown passes. But he also picked off a pass and outran most of the BYU offense on a 56-yard interception return for a touchdown.

His aggressiveness sometimes hurt him, but his speed and athleticism always helped him, and afterward he stood in front his locker and was accountable.

“They beat me once, they beat me twice,” he said. “But I hung in there and [kept] fighting because I know that sooner or later, I’m going to beat them.”

On Saturday, it was later, much later, almost too late, but still better than never.

As the man said, there was no way they were losing this game.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at [email protected]. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke