It started out like any other postcard spring day in Los Angeles. Cardinal Gardens, an apartment complex where many USC freshmen live, was buzzing. Regular students and players in the same building, living the same life, chasing different dreams.

By mid-afternoon on that day nearly two years ago, USC department of public safety officers and LAPD officers and detectives were circling a specific building in the complex, looking for the same person: 19-year-old Mark Sanchez.

One day earlier, Sanchez was Jordan Traver Uttal, the name on a fake Arizona I.D. he used to gain access to the 901 Club, a hotspot for students just off fraternity row and north of the coiffed campus plopped in the armpit that is South Central Los Angeles.

Now Sanchez was being handcuffed and pushed into the back of a police cruiser in the parking lot of his complex, after a woman told police she had been sexually assaulted by Sanchez around 12:30 a.m. that morning at Cardinal Gardens.

According to police reports, security cameras showed Sanchez arriving at the club at 11:21 p.m. and leaving at 12:59 a.m. Eight days after the Duke lacrosse players had been arrested for rape, eight days after the 24/7 cable news cycle of guilty until proved innocent had started, Sanchez went through the same ordeal.

He was booked in the downtown detention center, sharing cell space with murderers, drug dealers and prostitutes. He submitted DNA and hair samples and eventually paid $200,000 in bail to escape the filth.

But the horror of that scene couldn't compare to what was next: Sanchez had to tell his mother -- the woman he says "gave me my soul" -- why he had been arrested.

"I couldn't breathe," Olga says now.

Olga and Nick Sanchez left little room for interpretation raising their three boys in Orange County: Character defines you. Nick (Yale) and Brandon (DePauw) played quarterback in college, but neither had Mark's ability. Neither had so much in front of him--or so much to lose.

Yet here was Olga's youngest son, the one with the curly locks and bright smile and physical gifts kids can only dream of, being accused of a despicable crime. It didn't help that the Duke case was lingering, or that this was the third time in three years the LAPD had investigated a USC player for an alleged assault at Cardinal Gardens.

"It was hard to look at her and reassure her," Mark says. "You're getting blasted in the media and things are getting said that are just so hurtful, and more than anything, untrue. But if something like that happened to one of the women in my family, women I love, of course I'm going to think the worst right away. I never should have been in that situation in the first place. That's something I have to live with and learn from."

For nearly two months Sanchez was in legal limbo. For nearly two months he was suspended from team functions and walked around campus surrounded by suspicion and uncertainty. He was required to take a rape awareness class at USC.

Never mind the letters of support from former teachers and guidance counselors. Or the letter from the mayor of his hometown of Mission Viejo praising — in detail — Sanchez's character and impact on the community.

Nearly two months after that night, the case was dropped because of insufficient evidence.

"I don't know, in this day and age, how something like that can just take on another life," Olga says of the accusation against her son.

Nearly 18 months after his ordeal had begun, Sanchez walked on the field at Autzen Stadium last October with a stomach full of nerves. He was playing for injured starter John David Booty, and a big game against Oregon was minutes away.

Then the taunts began. Rapist, molester, felon. Coincidence or not, it was the worst of Sanchez's three starts, and a seven-point loss knocked the Trojans from the national title hunt.

"No matter what happens, no matter if you're cleared of any wrongdoing, it's still there," Sanchez says. "It has changed me. I'm constantly evaluating situations — whether it's dating, renting a house, going out with people — and how it will affect me or how it will look. It seems bitter and cold and just so black and white. But it's reality."

It's another Tuesday evening at Heritage Hall. The shrine to all that is USC sports — the championship trophies, the plaques, the awards — is glimmering in the moonlight. There, in the team meeting room, stands Mitch Mustain.

He is speaking, and the members of Generate USC youth ministry are hanging on his every word. A handful of the congregation is made up of USC players.

"The (other) students," says fellow USC quarterback Aaron Corp, "have no idea who Mitch is."

Sweet anonymity.

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