New book rekindles memories of 1992 Duke-Kentucky classic

Christian Laettner stepped on the wrong guy. Eight minutes left in regulation, Duke-Kentucky, screeching sold-out Spectrum, winner goes to the Final Four, Laettner put his right foot between the 2 and the 5 on Aminu Timberlake's chest and churned it like a guy grinding out a cigarette butt.

Got whistled for a two-shot technical foul but was allowed to stay in the game.

Stayed in the game and caught a 75-foot inbounds pass from an unguarded Grant Hill with 2.1 seconds left in overtime.

Dribbled once, turned and hit that feathery soft 18-foot jumper. Swish, the only sound for the millisecond it took for everyone to realize they had just seen the greatest game in the cockeyed history of college basketball.

Duke beat Kentucky, 104-103, went to the Final Four, won the whole shebang.

Now, 20 years later, Gene Wojciechowski has written a terrific book called "The Last Great Game" about that dramatic finish and all the clickety-clack, gear-meshing moments that led up to those final 2.1 seconds.

What if Kentucky coach Rick Pitino had assigned some tall, athletic guy to defend Hill on that last inbounds pass? Maybe the pass would not have been so easy, so accurate? And what if Deron Feldhaus and John Pelphrey had bracketed Laettner as ordered, one in front, one behind, forcing Laettner to scramble to catch the pass, setting up an even tougher, off-balance final shot? And what if Bobby Hurley had punched Laettner in the mouth the day before, as he threatened to do in response to the brutal hazing he had endured from his arrogant teammate for so many months?

It's all there, in the book. Laettner's drive to the hoop. Timberlake, a timid freshman, crouched in his path. Collision sends Timberlake sprawling, on his back. Laettner makes the layup, shuffles closer to Timberlake and plops his foot between the helpless kid's numbers.

Pitino tells Wojciechowski, "Laettner should have been thrown out of the game."

Laettner confesses, "Yeah, I did it on purpose. But I was very much in control. I did it on purpose, but I made sure I didn't do it hard so everyone knew that it wasn't malicious and that I wasn't trying to hurt the kid. But it was just stupid."

Even dumber, because it was the wrong guy. It was Feldhaus who had shoved Laettner in the back earlier, sending him tumbling to the floor. When Laettner looked up, Feldhaus was gone and Timberlake was standing there.

It is fascinating how Laettner's story has changed through the years. That dark and stormy night, after all the gushing questions about that last shot and his 10-for-10 shooting (10-for-10 from the foul line, too), I had asked him whether he worried about the fallout from the technical foul (Jamal Mashburn had made one, missed one).

"No," he answered, "because that's part of the game. It was an unfortunate situation because I was falling and I needed to step somewhere. And it wasn't vengeful at all. I didn't step on him hard. I just put my foot down because I needed some balance.

"And they [Kentucky's players] realized that. They didn't think it was a dirty play or nothing because it wasn't."

Mashburn squelches that alibi. "People may not talk about it," he says, "but star players are treated differently. I don't think the officials had the balls to toss Laettner out of the game. He probably should have been, but I wasn't surprised he wasn't."

Sean Woods, who made a remarkable circus shot to put Kentucky ahead with 2.1 seconds left, recalls: "I wanted to punch Laettner in the face. He stepped on the only guy on our team who wouldn't have gotten up and hit him. If he had done that to anybody else on our team, it would have been a full-fledged brawl."

The next day, Mike Krzyzewski was his usual tight-lipped self. The Laettner-Timberlake incident?

"It was a bad play," Coach K said.

Wojciechowski gets inside Krzyzewski's head (you know how long it took to type that?), for some startling insights about the dynamics of that Duke team. Coach K had told Hurley it was "his team" early on. Laettner bristled at that and launched a long and bitter campaign of needling the pale point guard.

Finally, Hurley sought advice from the coach after Laettner had scribbled his name across the little guy's image on a team poster.

"Tell him you're gonna punch him in the mouth," Coach K told him.

The threat was enough. Laettner was satisfied that he had the anger bubbling through Hurley, anger that would be transformed into adrenaline on game nights.

So, here it is, 20 years later. The NCAA Tournament selection committee may not have a sense of humor, or a sense of shame (Iona over Drexel?), but it does have a sense of history.

Which helps explain why it stuck Duke in the same bracket with UNLV, conjuring up memories of Jerry Tarkanian's renegades and their emotional encounters with the Dookies. And putting them on a path for a Duke-Kentucky rematch and the inevitable scramble to find Laettner and Hill.

What do they say about the best-laid plans of mice, men and bracketologists? Thank you, Lehigh. The two commercials featuring Hill and the long pass are eminently forgettable. Wojciechowski's book is a welcome blend of dogged research and brisk writing.

Me, I have my own bitter memories of that incredible evening. Memories that involve the NCAA's greed and disrespect for due process. I had this idea that a finger sock in school colors would appeal to college kids.

Found two sweet ladies to market the product. Found a rare knitting mill in Philadelphia to make 1,000 of them. Chose blue and white on a hunch and wound up with three of the four teams in the regional with that color scheme.

I knew the NCAA controlled the Spectrum, the signage inside, the sidewalks outside. I knew you couldn't do the Heimlich maneuver on a choking man without NCAA approval and an appeal from Heimlich himself. I recruited two Cabrini kids to hand them out at the Pattison Avenue subway stop.

The NCAA gumshoes grabbed the kids, confiscated the finger socks. My raincoat was even swiped out of the pressroom, sending me back out into that dark and stormy night, wet and angry.

I still have a handful of those finger socks around. Has anybody got a phone number for Ashley Judd? I'd love to see the NCAA tell CBS it can't show a closeup of Ashley Judd because she's waving a blue-and-white wool item on her index finger.

Another finger? OK, that might be a problem.

Contact Stan Hochman at stanrhoch@comcast.net