CHAPTER 44

The coaches met promptly at 7: 30 for breakfast in the hotel restaurant. They huddled in a booth in a remote corner and sipped coffee as they waited for menus. None of the four could stop smiling. Lonnie put his cell phone in the middle of the table and said, “All phones here, and turned off. Mine hasn’t stopped buzzing. ” The other three phones hit the table.

Jason Grinnell said, “Sooley called me at six this morning, and it was during one of those brief periods when I was actually asleep. ”

“What did he want? ” asked Lonnie.

“Well, today is Wednesday, and he talks to his mother every Wednesday morning at seven. ”

“He didn’t wake you up to tell you that, ” said Ron McCoy.

“Hang on. He said he had a dream, a bad one that involved a problem with an airplane, said it’s a bad omen and he thinks we should take the bus to Memphis. They say the kid is really superstitious. ”

Lonnie said, “That’ll save sixty thousand bucks for the air charter. Our AD will love that. ”

McCoy said, “The equipment managers can’t find his socks after the games. He takes them with him. ”

Grinnell said, “Yeah. Murray says he washes them himself and hangs them in a window. Said he’s been doing it since the first game he played. ”

“Well, at least they’re getting washed. ”

A waitress stopped by and handed over menus. When she left, Lonnie said, “I like it. Let’s take the bus and forget going home. I want to keep Sooley away from the campus, away from everybody. I got fifty emails last night from reporters, other coaches, old friends I haven’t talked to in months. Everybody wants a piece of the kid right now. ”

Jackie Garver said, “According to Murray, the girls are driving him crazy. ”

“Those were the days, ” McCoy said with a laugh.

Lonnie said, “Tell the managers to let them sleep. We’ll leave around eleven and take our time getting to Memphis. ”

“By bus? ”

“Yes. If Sooley wants to ride the bus, then so be it. ”

· · ·

Duke versus Central. The number one seed versus a number sixteen, a play-in. Never in the tournament’s storied history had a number sixteen beaten a number one. Same for fifteen, fourteen, thirteen.

Duke versus Central, the other school in Durham. Duke, with its 5 national championships, its roll call of 32 All-Americans, its 41 tournament appearances, 16 conference championships, its current streak of 22 consecutive weeks at number one, and on and on. Across town, Central’s numbers were far less impressive.

Duke, with its tuition now at $50, 000 a year, its endowment of $8 billion, its dozens of endowed professorships, its 95 percent graduation rate, its lofty rankings in medicine, law, engineering, the arts and sciences, its billions in research grants, and on and on.

Rich versus poor, private versus public, elites versus upstarts.

The commentators feasted on the story.

And everybody was looking for Sooley.

· · ·

FedEx Forum. Home of the Memphis Grizzlies and site of the South Regional. Arkansas is just next door, and its fans poured into the city to watch their beloved Razorbacks easily handle Indiana State in the first game. Feeling even more boisterous for the second round, the fans hung around and eagerly awaited the chance to show their anti-ACC sentiment against Duke. All 18, 000 seats were packed, with only a sprinkling of Blue Devil faithful. A thunderous round of booing greeted the number one seed as they took the floor. Seconds later, the crowd flipped immediately and began “Sooley! Sooley! Sooley! ” when Central appeared on the court.

For Samuel, the moment was disconcerting. Who wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of such adulation, but he felt as though all eyes were on him. For the past two days he had ignored the cameras and spoken to no one but his coaches and teammates. All of them were watching SportsCenter and following the storm on social media. They were determined to shield him from as many distractions as possible.

He smiled and stretched and tried to ignore the crowd. He glanced at the Duke players on the other end and wondered if they were as nervous as he was. They appeared to be immune from the jitters, all calm, relaxed, confident. They were accustomed to being booed and jeered and thrived on creating such noisy resentment on the road. They were far from the madness of Cameron, but they played all their away games in hostile, crowded arenas. It was part of the Duke mystique. The Blue Devils against the world.

Sooley’s man was Darnell Coe, a 6'8" small forward scoring 12 a game and considered the best Duke defensive player since Shane Battier. Sooley glanced at Coe a couple of times, then tried to ignore him. Coe, like all the Duke players, seemed to have no interest in the opposing team.

As the lower seed, Central was introduced first and got a rousing welcome, with the “Sooley! ” chants drowning out the announcer. Duke’s starters were heavily booed but took it in stride. At mid-court they made no effort to acknowledge the Eagles.

Their center, Akeem Akaman, was 6'10". When he stepped forward for the tip-off, he scowled at Sooley, who immediately sprang high and quick and swatted the ball back to Mitch Rocker.

Central’s first play was simple. They were where they were for one reason—Sooley and his long game. That’s where they would start. That’s where they would live or die. He posted high, then sprinted deep into the front court, took a bounce pass from Mitch and dribbled the ball. He was 35 feet from the basket and Coe gave him some room, as if to say, “Go ahead. ”

Sooley sprung up and took the shot. He didn’t follow, but instead backed away and was past mid-court when it landed in the bottom of the net. He skipped back and waved his arms as the crowd erupted.

Duke had no weaknesses. Akaman and Kevin Washington could dominate inside, and Coe, Tyrell Miller, and Toby Frost could burn the nets from anywhere on the court. Central didn’t have the bench to survive a physical game with lots of fouls, but no team could afford to give Duke room to run its offense. Coach Britt had decided to play hard and aggressive and hope the refs didn’t call a close game.

Frost missed the first shot and Roy Tice cleared the board. Mitch jogged up court with the ball, traded passes with Murray, and at 15 seconds Sooley swept back into the front court, took the ball and launched another shot, this one a bit closer, from 32 feet. Nothing but net. The fans were beyond delirious.

The plan was to start with Sooley bombing away until he missed one. After a bucket by Akaman, Mitch pushed the ball up court in a hurry, and with only 10 seconds gone found Sooley deep in a corner with Coe sticking close. He faked a pass, then sprang from 30 feet. When his third shot found the net, the Forum seemed to shake.

Unrattled, Duke calmly went about its business on offense. Tyrell Miller bounced off a perfect screen and fired a 20-footer that didn’t go. Akaman got the rebound, though, and slammed it home.

Coe closed in tight and began grabbing and hacking. Sooley peeled off screen after screen but couldn’t shake him. When he got the ball for the fourth time, he faked a shot and sent Coe flying. He streaked for the basket, almost drew a charge, then whipped a perfect behind-the-back pass to Murray in the corner. He missed and Kevin Washington got the rebound.

Toby Frost dribbled the ball up and motioned for his teammates to settle down. At 17: 40 Central led 9–4, and the jitters were gone. Frost nailed a three, and Sooley finally missed one. The teams swapped baskets, then swapped turnovers, and at the under-16-minute time-out they were tied at 13. The game was off to a frantic start with both teams seemingly poised to score 100.

Duke’s defense, though, found its rhythm and pressured the perimeter. Mitch and Murray tried to work the ball inside but Roy Tice and Melvin Montgomery could not score. Coe stuck to Sooley like glue and denied him the ball. When he finally took a pass he launched another 30-footer, a bad shot that rebounded long and led to a beautiful three-on-one fast break.

Coe was fierce and physical and didn’t mind grabbing and hacking. When he hand-checked Sooley hard, a clear foul, and drew no whistle, Lonnie erupted on the sideline and got a hard stare from a ref. He wouldn’t shut up or back down. If the refs were allowing his star to get mugged, he was not about to stay quiet. He wanted a technical and finally got one, his third of the season.

As Tyrell Miller took the uncontested free throw, the crowd seemed ready to storm the court.

Duke quickly pulled away, scoring inside and out, and with Sooley bottled up, Central had no answer. Lonnie continued to work the refs and they finally tightened up the game. Coe was whistled for two straight fouls and took a seat. Sooley promptly nailed a 25-footer to cut the lead to 28–20 at 8: 03.

It was obvious that the rest of the team would struggle to score. During a Central time-out, Lonnie asked Sooley if he needed a break. No sir, he wasn’t coming out. “The game is yours, ” Lonnie said. “Take it to the basket. ”

With Coe on the bench, and with Duke protecting the perimeter, he began slashing to the lane. He finished some, dished others, and when Coe reentered at 5: 22, the score was 34–30.

The obvious disadvantage of playing a well-coached team with four All-Americans was that someone always had a hot hand. Toby Frost hit two short jumpers and Mitch was called for traveling. Frost then hit a three and Duke was up by 11. Central clawed back, had three impressive stops, then Sooley hit his fifth three-pointer.

At the half, Duke led 46–35 and looked unbeatable. Sooley had 22 points and was 5-for-10 from behind the arc.

The locker room was quiet as the Eagles caught their breath and tried to absorb the enormity of facing more of the same in the second half. Lonnie and the coaches huddled and decided to try and slow down the game. Their man-to-man defense had just given up 46 points and looked helpless. They decided to start with a 2-3 zone, clog up the middle, and hope Duke cooled off from the outside. If that didn’t work, and they had serious doubts, it would at least buy some time and save some legs for the finish.

· · ·

The zone worked well for a few minutes as both teams missed shots and threw the ball away. When Sooley could get his hands on the ball he fired away, but Coe was suffocating him and every shot was fiercely contested. At 17: 25 Coe was called for his third foul but didn’t leave the game. Sooley was determined to draw the fourth and began driving. He lowered his shoulder and was whistled for his second foul. At the first TV time-out Duke led by 12, 52–40, and Sooley had missed all five shots, long and short.

He broke the drought with a 20-footer. Duke quickly answered. As Mitch walked the ball up the court, Coe grabbed Sooley’s jersey, again, and their feet got tangled. Both went down hard, right in front of a ref who angrily pointed at Coe on the floor and whistled him for number four. The Duke bench, always volatile, went nuts and a few tense seconds followed. Coe left the game shaking his head. The announcers ran the replay and there was no doubt he had grabbed Sooley, spun him around, and tripped him up.

Sooley took the inbound pass and in a split second fired from the arc. Nothing but net. Tyrell Miller answered with a three, far away from the zone. Back and forth, the teams traded misses and baskets. Duke went up by 14 and Central cut it to eight, but could get no closer. Lonnie called time at 7: 08 for a breather, and Sooley took a seat on the bench for a much deserved break. Duke was up 64–54.

When Sooley reentered at 5: 50, Coe did the same, but with four fouls he had to take a step back. Sooley figured as much and launched two bombs. Both missed. With time running down, Lonnie ditched the zone and went to a half-court press and Duke, uncharacteristically, had consecutive turnovers. The Eagles were out of gas but desperate to make a run. This was not the moment to think about fatigue. They fought to within eight, 72–64, and the crowd got back in the game. Duke settled down, worked the clock, and Kevin Washington hit a three. With three minutes left, Duke forced a turnover that led to an easy basket, then blocked a shot that led to another.

In a matter of seconds, it seemed, Duke was up by 15 and Coach Britt called time. The disappointed fans sat down and stared at the scoreboard. The Forum had not been that quiet for hours.

1: 58 remained. Duke 79, Central 64.

The next 58 seconds would later be called the most exciting minute in tournament history. Murray inbounded the ball to Mitch who rifled a pass to mid-court where Sooley scooped it up, dribbled twice, and launched a 30-footer that found the net. 1: 50. Tyrell Miller grabbed the ball, stepped out of bounds and quickly bounced it inbounds to Toby Frost. However, Miller stepped on the baseline with his pass and a ref saw it and whistled the infraction. Dmitri Robbins inbounded long to Sooley, who was camping near mid-court. He pump-faked Coe, dribbled behind his back, and shot from 27 feet. Net. 1: 44. 79–70. Central pressed full-court and Duke worked the ball up. Toby Frost broke free off a screen and was open, until he wasn’t. Sooley came flying out of nowhere, blocked the shot, then sprinted two-on-one with Murray dribbling. He bounced it to his roommate, who pulled up from 29 feet and nailed his third in a row. 1: 30. 79–73.

Lonnie backed them away and they pressed from half-court. Murray deflected a bounce pass, the ball squirted loose, and four players piled on top of it. In the scrum at least three of them fought over the ball and the ref whistled a jump ball. Possession Central. Sooley fought his way through the lane and managed to crash Coe into a hard screen set by Melvin Montgomery. No foul was called as Coe almost fell to the floor. His man was alone in the corner and Mitch fired a perfect pass. Sooley hit his fourth in a row from 26 feet. 1: 10. 79–76. Central went full-court and Murray and Mitch trapped Frost in a corner. His wild pass was picked off at mid-court by Dmitri who, without a thought, led Sooley with a perfect bounce pass. He launched from 28 feet, and when the ball swished the net absolute bedlam rocked the Forum. 79–79 with one minute to go.

Duke, reeling, called time-out and Central’s bench smothered their star. Lonnie managed to seat his five and tried to settle them down. But the noise was deafening and he had been hoarse for the entire second half. He switched to a tight man-to-man and told them to expect a long shot. He put Sooley on Toby Frost and told him to foul if necessary.

Frost calmly jogged the ball up the court and Duke set its offense. Ten seconds, fifteen. Tyrell Miller set a hard ball screen for Frost, then rolled and took a perfect pass. At 41 seconds, Tyrell hit a 24-footer. Duke fell back and picked up Mitch, who passed to Murray. As Sooley fought off Coe and tried to get open, a ref blew a whistle. Coe was called for his fifth foul and Sooley went to the line to shoot two with 18 seconds left. He hit the first. 82–80. Central needed two points, not one, and nobody in the building expected Sooley to put it in the net. As soon as the ref bounced him the ball he fired at the rim and soared after the ball. When it bounced off the front of the rim, he slapped it to Murray, all alone in the corner. His 28-foot dagger was the shot of a lifetime, and Central was up by one. Duke had plenty of clock and used its last time-out.

Unable to sit and barely able to hear anything, the Central players huddled around Coach Britt and yelled at each other to dig in.

Frost hurried the ball up court, swapped quick passes with Tyrell Miller, and neither could find an open man. With five seconds to go, Kevin Washington tried a turn-around jumper from the free throw line but Roy Tice got a hand on it. The ball bounced to Murray, who saw his roommate streaking down the court. He lofted a long pass that Sooley took on one bounce at their own free throw line and hurled himself into the air.

Defying gravity, Sooley soared through the Forum, the ball in his right hand, high above his head, just like Niollo. He finished with a jarring, rim-rattling, windmill dunk that sent quakes all the way to South Sudan.

A mob swarmed the court as the Eagles piled on top of each other at mid-court.

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