Sooley(61)

For the sixth straight game, Sooley easily controlled the tip-off, slapping it back to Mitch Rocker. The designed play worked perfectly until the shot bounced off the rim. Sooley missed his first four long attempts and stopped shooting. His defender, Carson, was a 6'6" strong forward who pinched, grabbed, shoved, and never stopped talking trash. He and Sooley tied up on a loose ball and hit the floor, squirming. Two refs dived between them to prevent a brawl, and both players got up ready to fight. The teams were separated and both coaches settled down their players. Sooley, though, had been talked out of his game. He sat the remaining 10 minutes of the first half, sulking, the smile gone. A&T led by eight. He had only two points, a cheap put-back.

Out of sync on both ends, Coach Britt had his work cut out for him at half-time. He barked at Sooley, told him to stop pouting like a ten-year-old, get in the damned game physically and mentally, and so on. Sooley would start the second half down low and try to draw fouls on Carson.

Central’s two guards, Murray and Mitch Rocker, slowed down the game and kept the score close. At 14:20, A&T was up by 10 when Carson got his third whistle. Sooley watched with a smile as Carson went to the bench, then hit two free throws.

It was time for the long game. Sooley moved outside, worked through a screen, took the pass, pulled up from 25 feet and hit his first bomb. His defender, a 6'5" redshirt freshman, appeared glued to the floor. Murray stole the inbound pass and fired a bullet across the court to his roommate, who was in the vicinity of his last launching point. Sooley hit another.

Carson’s pit stop was brief. At 12:40, he hustled back into the game and immediately bumped into Sooley, hard. A ref was watching and warned him. Sooley just smiled and relaxed. Roy Tice hit a short bank shot to tie the score. On defense, Sooley backed off Carson, daring him to take a shot. He was not a scorer, but wide open he had no choice. Sooley sprang high, slapped it away, and then laughed in his face. A long rebound kicked out to Mitch who bounced it to Murray in the middle for a three-on-one. Sooley, blitzing from the left, took a short bounce pass and was soaring for a dunk when Carson assaulted him from behind with a fierce body block. Sooley sprawled into the backboard padding and landed hard. Whistles shrilled from all directions as the refs ran in quick to avoid a war. Lonnie was yelling for a technical and both benches were inching onto the floor.

Sooley bounced up with a smile and said he was okay.

The assistant coaches got their players back where they belonged and the situation settled down. A ref got in Carson’s face and pointed toward the locker room. It was flagrant, no question about it, and he was out of the game.

Sooley made both free throws. On the inbound, Lonnie called for a play they had perfected. Sooley bounced off two screens, took the ball deep in a corner, alone, and hit his fourth three of the game. Central was up by 5.

The flagrant foul and the near fight ignited the Eagles, and they could feel a run. After winning 13 in a row, and all by double figures, they knew the game and the title belonged to them. They also knew their star had finally found his range. With seven minutes to go, a tight game became a blowout as A&T’s defense withered under a barrage of Sooley’s long jumpers mixed brilliantly with slashing drives to the basket. He ended up with 28 points, the tournament MVP award, and the Eagles left the court holding a MEAC championship trophy for the second time in their history.

The bus ride home was a riot.





CHAPTER 42





Sunday, usually known as the Sabbath but on March 13 even better known as Selection Sunday, the doors to The Nest opened at 2 p.m. and the students streamed in. For only the second time in Central’s history, the team had made it to March Madness and it was a moment to be savored. A celebration was in order. A trophy was coming home, one that would be enshrined in the lobby and admired for decades to come. The crowd was there to celebrate, to say thanks, to admire their heroes, and to find out who their next opponent would be. There were no worries about making it to The Big Dance. Yesterday’s win gave the Eagles an automatic bid. Others might be sweating the cut, but not Central.

For smaller schools and less dominant programs, an invitation meant a ticket to join the biggest party in all of American sports. The perennials took the trip for granted, another three or four games added to the end of each season’s schedule. For the others, though, it was a rare and cherished moment.

Coach Britt held a team lunch in the locker room. As the players gathered they watched the ESPN and CBS experts ramble on with their bracketologies and predictions. Trying to guess where the committee would place sixty-eight teams was impossible but had never stopped the analysts from trying. In the midst of the avalanche of data, it was mentioned several times that North Carolina Central, with an automatic bid, had the worst record in the field at 20–13. It was also noted that the team had won 14 straight, all going away, and had a star freshman who was averaging 30 a game. These little bits were offered quickly because no one took Central seriously. It was, after all, an HBCU, and those schools had always struggled in the tournament. The MEAC title did little to impress the commentators.



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The NCAA postseason playoffs began in 1939 as a single-elimination tournament with eight teams. It expanded to sixteen teams in 1952 and thirty-two in 1978. As the college game gained popularity, and became more exciting with dunks, three-pointers, and a shot clock, the tournament, nicknamed and then branded as “March Madness,” kept growing. In 2000, it doubled in size again with sixty-four teams, half of which received automatic bids by winning their conference titles. The expansion was deemed wide enough, but every year there was controversy as a few teams were left out. In 2011, an attempt to remedy this was put in place with the addition of four play-in games for low-seeded teams. Dubbed the “First Four,” these early games were played in Dayton, Ohio.