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<UID>
9501050764
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
950208
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Wednesday, February 08, 1995
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL CHASER
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1C
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<ILLUSTRATION>

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<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1995, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
CURSES! SPOILED AGAIN
FEICK PLAYS HIS HEART OUT, BUT IT'S NOT ENOUGH
</HEADLINE>
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<BODY>
EAST LANSING --  In the closing seconds of Tuesday's hissing defeat,
several Michigan State fans began to razz Purdue's bald-headed senior forward,
Cuonzo Martin.

  "Hey, Cuonzo, how's it feel  to be ranked 25th in the country?"

  "Hey, Cuonzo. Nice haircut."
  "CBA! CBA!"
  Martin, hands on hips, breathing hard from the 12 points he scored in the
last six minutes, rolled his eyes  and pushed his lips together. He blew them
a kiss. Mmmwah! A winner's revenge.
  Across the floor, a beefy center named Jamie Feick -- rhymes with "strike"
-- looked glumly at the scoreboard. No kisses  for him. This should have been
his night. This should have been his story. It was shaping up as one of those
Star-Is- Born evenings -- network TV; sold-out arena; the big gun, Shawn
Respert, having a  bad game, missing from the outside, missing from inside.
And so someone else had to step up; someone needed to put on the cape and
knock over the phone booth.
  And Feick was doing it. In two hours  of basketball, he brought to mind
the best  days of Mike Peplowski, all growling enthusiasm and rebound-sucking
and backboard-banging and lay- up, lay-up, lay-up. Feick was keeping the
Spartans alive. He was their best chance at storing the Big Ten title away,
the way a squirrel stores a walnut. It was right there --  in his eyes, in his
hands.
  And then it was gone.
  "Jamie had an outstanding  game," Jud Heathcote would sigh, after the
Boilermakers dished the Spartans only their second conference loss against
eight wins. "Unfortunately, outside of Jamie, nobody else did."
Feick? He'd trade  stats for a win
  And still, it was almost enough. Respert, the senior star they had all
come to see, was being held to one shot in the first half, and mostly
rim-clangers  in the second. But Feick? He was somewhere between Bill Laimbeer
and the Incredible Hulk.
  He did the big things, like soaring after every rebound, or scoring on
tough inside moves, taking feeds and dropping them off the  glass. And he did
the little things, too. Like diving for a loose ball and poking it off the
defender out of bounds. Or grabbing the ball lightning-quick after a basket
and feeding the new break.
  Or the time when he went eye-to-eye with Purdue's 6-foot-11 center Brad
Miller. Miller pump-faked, pump-faked, pump-faked -- and Feick never bit.
Finally, Miller, with a two-inch height advantage,  went up, and Feick went
right with him, and when Miller finally unleashed a shot, Feick banged that
thing away the way a volleyball star bangs a spike over the net.
  The ball landed in the first  row.
  "Did you realize what kind of night you were having?" Feick was asked
after the game. "Did you ever think, 'I could be the star of this most
important game'?"
  "No," he said, studying the  rare quiet of the Spartans' locker room. "I
would trade 30 points and 30 rebounds to say we'd won this game right now."
  They had a chance. As poorly as Respert was playing -- he shot 4-for-14
and  had his worst point output in two seasons --  the Spartans had a
one-point lead with less than three minutes to go. Eric Snow had made some
spectacular plays,  and Quinton Brooks had tossed in some neat  shots, and it
seemed, to put it in oldie terms, that the Belmonts were going to win a big
one without Dion.
  But Purdue down the stretch seemed to be breathing purer air. The
Boilermakers came alive  in the end -- I should say Martin came alive. He hit
a 14-foot jumper. He banged a 20- footer for three points. He threw in a
lay-up. He drew two fouls.
  "I don't want to say I save myself a little  for the second half," Martin,
who finished with  28 points, said afterward, "but I guess I do."
  Feick, on the other hand, had nothing left. He had put it all on the floor.
And it was still a few  points shy.
He has nothing to beef about
  So now the Big Ten is a race again, with Purdue just a half-game back, and
Michigan  1 1/2 behind,  and, if you're a Spartans fan, you have to feel like
a wonderful opportunity was burned to ashes Tuesday night.
  And yet you learn from games like these, and maybe a guy like Feick, who
had problems with ball control in seasons past and wasn't expected  to do
great things this year, well, maybe he rises another notch. Heathcote said
that, over the summer, Jamie decided "to be a center" and to work on the
things he needed to star in that role. As a junior,  he sounds like he's
accepted that fully.
  "I try to concentrate on rebounding and defense," he said, after grabbing
14 boards and scoring a team-high 16 points. "There are enough guys on this
team  who can score. Rebounding is about heart, and I want to put my whole
heart into it.
  "When Shawn wasn't hot, we needed to go to the inside game, so I was ready
to score. It's just . . . I wish we  had won."
  He sighed and sipped a bottle of orange juice. He wore the backward
baseball cap that is signature college student, and the flannel shirt that is
signature farmer. Feick is the son of dairy farmers in Ohio, and his dream one
day is to have a farm himself -- a beef farm because you don't have to get up
as early to milk the cows.
  "I guess I set my sights real high, huh?" he said, laughing.
  On Tuesday, he did just fine. If the Spartans follow his lead, there'll be
plenty to smile about before this is all over.
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