<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8601140375
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
860330
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, March 30, 1986
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
6E
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
ADIOS TO DALE BROWN AND BAND OF RENOWN
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
DALLAS -- Well, I guess there are times when even God, the Soviet Union,
and your mother aren't enough.

  Bye-bye, LSU.

  Bye-bye, Dale Brown, master of ceremonies.
  The coach who invoked  more inspirational heroes than a closet full of
Bibles, whose team played "less is more" basketball longer than anyone figured
it could, and whose uniforms are the ugliest combination of colors I have
ever seen, is finally out of the NCAA tournament.
  And Louisville is still alive -- and is one half of Monday night's Malice
In Dallas Showdown, a.k.a.  the NCAA championship.
  Yes, the Louisville  Cardinals, with their staid coach, Denny Crum, and
their well-balanced attack and their everything- it-should-be basketball
program, held off the scrambling Tigers and won, as they were favored to do,
88-77.
  But for a while there . . .
  For a while there, it was looking like deja vu. We had seen this before.
Hadn't we seen it before? An underdog comes out of nowhere and makes it to the
Big  Game. Was that Dale Brown out there or Rollie Massimino? Were those the
LSU Tigers, or the Villanova Wildcats? Is it summer already? Are we watching
reruns?
  It sure looked that way in the first half.  LSU came out smoking in its
yellow and purple sneakers. The team was all over the place, stealing the
ball, tipping it into the air, pushing it down the floor and into the basket.
The look on the faces  of the Louisville players was unmistakable.  Color it
bewilderment.
  Color it 7-2, and 11-4 and a 44-36 halftime edge for LSU. Louisville never
had the lead. Brown's ragtag crew was playing as if  this were a pickup game
in its own personal sandlot, and how dare these Cardinals come in and try to
beat the Tigers? 
  But color it temporary.
  I DON'T KNOW what was said in the Louisville locker  room at halftime.
Probably something about maintaining poise and remembering what got them there
and all that.
  Meanwhile, Brown was no doubt invoking  World War II, Casper the Friendly
Ghost and  The  Little Train That Could. These speeches had fired up his team
before -- a team that wasn't even ranked in the final  Associated Press poll,
had lost seven players this season, yet had made it all  the way here, to the
Final Four.
  "The guys who built the Donner Pass had lousy odds, too," Brown explained.
Huh?
  Well, anyhow, OK.
  The first half was already theirs, and if the next 20 minutes went the
same, it would be deja vu for the underdogs. Another sleeper in the NCAA
final.
  But no. This time it was the Tigers who lost it mentally in the second
half -- and then numerically.
  "There was a five-minute stretch in the second half when we got out of our
rhythm," Brown said. "We hurried our offense. We knew we couldn't do that and
win."
  AND WHILE THAT was happening, Louisville,  behind forward Billy Thompson
-- who would miss only one shot all afternoon -- closed the gap, erased it,
then built one of its  own. A good fast-breaking team, Louisville turned the
velocity knob up several notches. Its speed now.
  Deja who?
  All of a sudden, the LSU shots that had dropped in the first half were
thudding off the rim. The pinpoint passing was a fraction behind. John
Williams, who seemed to play out of his body in the first half, was back in it
in the second. Derrick Taylor, who was mostly net the first half, was mostly
backboard and rim. The steals were just wild swipes.  The magic emotion was
dripping off.
  And the scoreboard and the clock were no longer friends.
  Deja lose.
  The Cardinals took 10-point leads. They dropped in lay-ups. Milt Wagner
dished assist  after assist. And when the final buzzer sounded, the Cardinals
had continued a neat little comeback story of their own. Remember, this team
was 11-6 early in the season.
  Now the Cardinals are NCAA  finalists. They have a tomorrow. Which is the
one thing all of Brown's heroes could not bring him.
  This was a tremendous game of basketball, a crock-pot of all the
ingredients that bring people  out to these things in the first place. But in
the end it was a day when odds prevailed. A day for talent over emotion, for a
stiff upper lip over a war cry, for the  hare not the  tortoise.
  It would  have been nice to see LSU, an underdog -- a big underdog -- make
it to the final. And after all, we've seen it before. But not this day.
  It's over hill, it's over Dale, no more hitting the tournament  trail.
  Louisville didn't have God  or Humpty Dumpty dancing in its locker room.
But the Cardinals had talent. And they had poise. It was enough.
  No more deja vu.
  Call it deja  LU.
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