Mohegan — A line written in "The Alchemist," by the great Paulo Coelho: "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

Yes. This is what I believe. I believe in the universe, that we are all connected to an energy and a power greater than ourselves. That we all have our guides, spirits and angels aiding in those connections.

And so now, Connecticut, summon your angels and address the universe with the following plea:

Deliver the UConn Huskies from this godforsaken American Athletic Conference. As quickly as possible.

Because I sat there Saturday in Neon Uncasville with about 6,000 other people watching the UConn women inhale Tulsa, 105-57, in the conference tournament quarterfinals.

Know what I found the most interesting part of the day?

That the Tulsa coach's first name is Matilda.

I've never encountered anyone actually named Matilda before.

Other than that, this was just a basketball game.

And that's the problem.

For the uninitiated: Conference tournaments are supposed to be passion pits. Where all the festering rivalries percolate under one roof. Schools with history among them. Memorable games and moments.

But this? The games of the AAC have all the soul of a saltine. Just a bunch of schools whose geographical distance parallels everything else they share: nothing.

The UConn women have never lost a game within the AAC. Eighty for 80. And while the Huskies cut a swath through the old Big East most years, at least we knew Doug Bruno (the DePaul coach), Harry Perretta (the Villanova coach) and had reason to watch the other games. UConn didn't always win, either. Heck, Nova and Boston College picked them off two straight years in the days of Diana Taurasi in the Big East Tournament.

It has been suggested that UConn (and its fans) shouldn't thumb their noses at the AAC, given that the Huskies hardly dominate it in other sports. Not the point. The point is that the league offers no community. No village green. No rivalries. No interest. Nobody cares.

Suppose, for example, the UConn men make an early exit this week at the conference tournament held at the XL Center. What, you think the XL wouldn't be a ghost town the rest of the time? The public address announcer would say, "good evening, lady and gentleman, welcome to the XL Center ..."

All we got Saturday was a public address announcer who mispronounced Napheesa Collier's first name.

This harangue is by no means a shot at the UConn women. But after appreciating their excellence — 27 assists on 38 baskets Saturday — there is the matter of drama. This is sports. You want a lack of drama? Go to an art museum. But we watch sports for win or lose, to see rivalries and to be entertained.

Has the AAC ever truly, entertained us?

It just makes UConn travel to Greenville, N.C. and Tulsa, among other outposts every year. To play teams nobody ever knew back in the days of the Big East. Or cared about.

OK. So I get that leaving the AAC would leave UConn football on an island. But we are a basketball state. Sorry. And if the Big East ever called, UConn officials should accept. Bring back Georgetown, Villanova and Providence.

I can't imagine how Kevin Ollie recruits now. Come here and play East Carolina! Or Randy Edsall. Saturday at noon, kickoff against ... Tulane! Stop.

So now we go from quoting "The Alchemist" to quoting Popeye. Like when he got irritated, he'd say, "that's all I can stands, I can't stands no more."

That's pretty much the feeling here from this corner. The AAC is nothing more than a roadside rest stop for the UConn Huskies. They need to get out. Now. So let's call on the universe.

Help us.

This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro