By Ed Johnson/
Assistant Sports Editor
COMMENTARY: I remember nothing of the noise that evening. I don't remember who I sat next to, or where I went afterward.
Of course I remember the "pass" and the dunk, and the guy running around the Pit floor looking for somebody — anybody — to hug.
I remember suddenly being on my feet, as if I had no choice, as if it would help me understand what I had just seen.
And I remember thinking this was no longer our place, our Pit — the property of Bob King and Petie Gibson, of Norm Ellenberger and Michael Cooper — that something had changed.
I could not have guessed that 25 years later, the event I had just witnessed, would seep its way into the national sports consciousness. It would become a symbol of March madness, even if it happened on a night in early April.
Jim Valvano called it the "JV" game. His North Carolina State Wolfpack systematically defeated a Georgia team led by Vern Fleming of Queens, N.Y., 67-60 in the first of two NCAA Tournament semifinals played on April 2, 1983, in the Pit.
Valvano stepped aside as the main event — No. 1 Houston vs. No. 2 Louisville — began.
That was the championship game. Everybody said so. It was Phi Slama Jama against the Descendents of the Doctors of Dunk. Houston had Akeem (later Hakeem) Olajuwon and Clyde Drexler. Louisville Countered with the McCrays, Rodney and Scooter, and Milt Wagner.
Back and forth they went, unmercifully rattling the Pit's poor rims with dunk after dunk, until finally Houston prevailed 94-81.
Later, Houston coach Guy Lewis said, "I don't think I've seen a game with more great athletes than this one."
The next day, Easter Sunday, Valvano and the Wolfpack were peppered by variations of the same question: How can you possibly stop them?
Finally, N.C. State guard Sidney Lowe had had enough.
"What happened to the questions about how they are going to stop us?" he demanded.
N.C. State was a curious team. Cheerleaders followed them carrying large cassette players blasting "Hungry Like a Wolf" by Duran Duran.
Lowe had broken Phil Ford's single-season ACC assist record the season before. He had known his backcourt teammate, Dereck Whittenburg, since before their sophomore year at DeMatha (Md.) High School.
Their big men were unheralded Cozell "Co-rilla" McQueen and Lorenzo "Lorilla" Charles.
Forward Thurl Bailey was an aspiring actor, having played the "Crook" in a college production of John Steinbeck's "Of Mice and Men."
Then there was their coach, the 37-year-old Valvano.
"He makes you feel so relaxed, so confident," Whittenburg said as he sat next to his coach at a news conference.
"You've just increased your meal money by five bucks," Valvano chimed.
He was not a purist. He liked the 3-point line and the shot clock, both controversial then.
"Purists don't drink with me at 4 in the morning," he said.
But he could coach a little, and his game plan for April 4, 1983, was to control the tempo with his guards and be physical inside with his big men.
John Wooden later called it the best coaching job in a championship game.
The Wolfpack outdunked Phi Slama Jama 2-1, getting the first and last dunks of the game.
Charles' last-second slam, off what Whittenburg later insisted was a perfect pass, decided it. N.C. State 54, Houston 52.
In my silent memory of that night, I don't remember who Valvano finally found to hug first. I do remember Olajuwon, face down on the Pit floor, pounding his fists in agony.
I remember thinking I'd probably never witness anything like this in my hometown again.
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