Kern: 25 years later, Duke's win over Kentucky an enduring memory

IT WAS A Saturday in late March, a quarter of a century ago. I had dinner with my family at a Chi Chi's in Franklin Mills Mall that hasn't been there for about two decades now. And it's called Philadelphia Mills these days. I was covering the Duke-Kentucky NCAA East Regional final later that night in South Philly, so I had time to enjoy a comfortable meal with my wife, parents and two children, then aged 8 and 6. Pass the salsa, please.

Since the Daily News doesn't have a Sunday edition, I didn't have to write on deadline. Which meant I'd be able to just watch and do a recap the following day. That made my job a lot more stress-free, especially with the way the phone lines you needed to send a story had mostly not been working at the Spectrum.

Little did I know what I was about to become a part of.

Some six hours later, I was standing at midcourt talking to Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski, by myself. The game had long since ended, 104-103 in overtime, which sent the defending national champions back to the Final Four the following week in Minneapolis, where the Blue Devils would become the first team to repeat since UCLA's run of seven in a row ended in the early 1970s. I was lingering around trying to figure out if I'd possibly missed anything while my colleagues sat not far away at courtside, hunched over their portable laptops trying to do justice to everything they'd just seen unfold in front them. For whatever reason, I noticed Coach K out there talking to someone else. What did I have to lose? You think that would ever happen today?

Anyway, I waited patiently. And when the other person walked away, I casually asked Coach K if he had a few more minutes, which he graciously said he did. He didn't know me. But like I said, it was a different time. There was no sports information director telling him it was time to go, or TV crew looking to get one last sound bite. He was simply trying to take in the moment, on his own terms. His gold tie was still perfectly knotted. He had the faraway, glassy-eyed look of someone who'd just walked away from a head-on collision without a scratch and was having trouble comprehending why.

Finally he said, "You'll have to excuse me, but I've got to go back to the locker room and throw some cold water on my face."

Twenty-five years later, that image remains just as vivid.

So does the game. Particularly the finish.

I don't know if it's the greatest college basketball game ever played, but it's on the real short list. And not just because of Christian Laettner's winning shot, but the story lines. You had Rick Pitino and his "Unforgettables," the four seniors who'd stuck around when the Kentucky program was under heavy attack a few years earlier. It doesn't get much more emotional than when Pitino, on the interview podium afterward, held up a Sports Illustrated cover that screamed: "Kentucky, Shame." From that bottom point to coming within a play of maybe winning a national title.

And that wasn't even the headline.

"I told our guys you can't let two seconds determine your life," Pitino stressed. And those guys - Richie Farmer, Deron Feldhaus, John Pelphrey and Sean Woods, who hit the miraculous bank shot that put the Wildcats ahead for what seemed like for keeps - remain as fondly remembered in the Bluegrass State as any of the teams that went all the way. Seeing them openly crying sitting alongside their proud coach, you truly felt something. At the same time you had to appreciate the greatness of that Duke group, even if many of us would later come to regard them as the evil empire, which I attribute in large part to folks like Dick Vitale and the constant gushing. Pardon the digression.

I had a feeling when I left the building that I had seen something I might never see again. I was hardly alone. And the next day I had to sit down in front of my computer screen and try to make sense of it all, with an extra 12 hours of hindsight. After reading Bill Lyon's take in the Inquirer, I realized I had my work cut out for me. I hope I succeeded. I felt better when the best editor I ever had (and I've had many good ones), Mike Rathet, gave me his seal of approval. I didn't have the heart to tell him that Hall of Fame columnist Stan Hochman threw me a curveball just as I got to the middle of my story by telling me he was using more of the Laettner stuff and less from Bobby Hurley. Not what we had planned. But he was Stan and I was me, so I went with the audible. No harm no foul.

Given the level of play, who was involved, what was at stake and how it ended, I was just lucky to have had a center-court seat. And in the next issue of SI, there I was in the background as Laettner let fly from the top of the key. Of course all you could make out was a fuzzy red sweater. If you really tried. But I knew.

"I'm not far enough removed yet to put it into perspective," Krzyzewski said. "Did that happen? I'm a little bit like that. I hope you understand. And I've never felt that way before. Really, it's a weird feeling. I can't believe it. Maybe after the season I'll reflect. I told the kids I think we've been part of history."

A classic part. And we've all reflected, just for being there. I don't know if it would have been the same if I'd just been watching on TV, as wonderfully as I later found out the talented Verne Lundquist had called it.

I've seen Tiger Woods win a Masters by 12 shots in his first professional major, and a U.S. Open when he went 91 holes on one healthy leg. I saw Vince Young beat Southern Cal in the Rose Bowl to give Texas a national title. I saw Villanova get a ring courtesy of Kris Jenkins, in the most memorable ending to an NCAA Tournament. Still, there's something about the show that two of the most storied programs put on right here a silver anniversary ago that still leaves me in awe. As Coach K was that night. And, like Villanova last April, I had a front-row view. Life can sure throw you a bona fide taste treat sometimes.

Makes me wonder whatever happened to Chi Chi's?

kernm@phillynews.com

@mikekerndn