I was there for a friend's bachelor party when before I knew what was happening, I was huddling with several hundred strangers. The entire bar had stopped what it was doing and started shuffling towards the TVs to watch a men's 400-meter medley relay.

For some of the people there, it was just another swimming event. For those who were aware of the circumstances, it was history in the making.

With the help of three other Americans (Aaron Peirsol, Brendan Hansen and most of all anchor Jason Lezak, who chased down France's Alain Bernard), Michael Phelps captured a record eighth gold medal at Beijing, surpassing Mark Spitz's seven-gold performance of 1972 in Munich. Phelps also now holds the record for most Olympic gold medals ever with 14. He'll likely add to that total in 2012 in London.

I doubt many of the people in the bar gave a phelp about Phelps three weeks ago, or will three weeks from now, but the eruption of cheers and an impromptu chorus of "U.S.A.!" was one of the most patriotic moments I've witnessed in my 26 years. People were proud to be Americans because a 23-year-old guy with Attention Deficit Disorder had channeled that energy into swimming faster than anyone else in the world ever has, all while wearing the stars and stripes on his cap. The beauty of sports, especially the Olympics, is that it brings people together.

But as happy as I am with Phelps' accomplishments, and I really am, there's one Olympic sport that has taken precedence over all others for me. One that requires nothing less than gold coming back to the States to ensure we are still masters of our domain.

The U.S. has to conquer in men's basketball.

We can win gold in beach volleyball, gymnastics, rowing and every other sport that is inconsequential for all but two weeks out of every four years, but when it comes to a game we invented, made wildly popular domestically as well as abroad, and have absolutely stunk in internationally for the past seven years, it's time to bring that shiny metallic object home. The one that makes silver and bronze look petty.

And not only does the U.S. need to win gold, it needs to flat-out dominate.

To my delight, that's exactly what the "Redeem Team" has been doing. Restoring the glory of hoops played at its finest, in a fashion that comes extremely close to the brilliance of the 1992 "Dream Team," stars such as LeBron, D-Wade and Kobe are putting on a clinic in the mold of Jordan, Bird and Magic.

Some may be less than enchanted by the fact that these highly paid professionals don't exemplify the amateur status that the Olympics were founded upon. Or that they're not new on the scene. Or possibly because they don't flash the cute, puppy-dog eyes of a Shawn Johnson.

You might go as far as to say Team U.S.A. is simply doing what was expected. But that's where you'd be wrong.

The Americans who laid an egg in Athens in 2004 had equally high hopes of gold, but those hopes came crashing down as each member left with an oversized penny (bronze medals) that left many wondering why we even sent spoiled pros in the first place. The players were selfish and coach Larry Brown was being himself - selfish. The only thing that wasn't selfish about that team was the way blame was passed around.

Well, the 2008 squad is the complete opposite of that debacle four years ago. You'd be hard-pressed to find more hustle, passion and heady play at any level of basketball. Coach Mike Krzyzewski, whose day job revolves around running the college team everyone loves to hate, Duke University, is the reason why.

What's interesting is that people hate Duke because they usually win. Quite a paradox since America is all about winners. We can't stand a loser. To quote George C. Scott in Patton, "... the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans." It's exactly the reason why America should love this team. They don't just win, they win the right way.

Krzyzewski has gotten every player to buy in wholeheartedly and walk shoulder-to-shoulder with the confidence one would expect of a group of men sporting two vowels and an 'S' on their chests. Team U.S.A. is putting on the most beautiful show of basketball produced in 16 years. It's poetry. Combining swarming, full-court man-to-man defense that takes nothing for granted with an offense that makes the extra pass and leaves defenders helpless, waving at shooters from afar, it's a perfectly coordinated symphony.

It's a team that has Kobe, the most lethal scorer on the planet, currently third in points, sacrificing shots for the good of his squad and country.

Also, there's no feeling that the Americans are being petty and running up the score. Instead, they're playing like every possession is their last, which is the reason no team has come closer than 21 points after 40 minutes of play.

Friday's semifinal with Argentina, which will pit Team U.S.A. against Manu Ginobili and several other NBA-caliber players, will be the toughest task the Americans have had after six blowouts. Still, I would be shocked if there's a letdown. The coaches and players seem to care too much - for the jersey and each other. They are flipping every spoiled NBA-athlete stereotype on its head.

All of this may not resonate with some of you the same way one man or woman's Olympic triumph has, but if you're an American basketball fan, it should reaffirm your belief in the way the game was meant to be played.