In recognition of North Carolina State having not one, but two, teams in the Final Four, it seems only right to give some light to the fabled 1983 Wolfpack team, Jim Valvano and one of the most improbable title runs in NCAA basketball history. No, that Pack team didn’t have anyone as endearing (or as large) as DJ Burns Jr., the widebodied sensation of the 2024 men’s tournament, but it sure knew how to create a storyline.
At the end of January that season, NC State was 9-7 and its best player, guard Dereck Whittenburg, was out with a broken foot. The season looked utterly lost, until the team found its footing just in time for the ACC tournament. Point guard Sidney Lowe and center Thurl Bailey were the anchors inside and out, and then there was the revelation that was Ernie Myers, a 6-foot-5 freshman from New York City, who started in place of Whittenburg and scored 35 points in a victory over Duke, a performance that remains the ACC freshman scoring record and helped stop State’s worst losing streak of the season. In the ACC tournament, NC State survived Wake Forest (a team it had beaten by 41 points not even a week earlier) by a point, then beat 5th-ranked North Carolina in overtime and 2nd-ranked Virginia, led by Ralph Sampson, in the final.
NC State headed into the NCAA tournament with an abundance of positive energy, only to have it nearly end after one game. Down four with under 30 seconds to play against Pepperdine and the opponents at the free-throw line, the Pack fought back to tie, largely because Pepperdine’s best player missed two one-and-ones, then got called for a phantom foul that nobody in the arena but one ref saw. On such events do March fortunes
hinge. NC State went on to win in double-overtime, and followed that with a one-point victory over UNLV to get to the Sweet 16.
“Survive and advance,” Valvano said. It became the Wolfpack’s mantra. They took care of Utah and then beat Virginia again by a single point to make the Final Four. After defeating Georgia in the national semifinal, NC State had to contend with heavily favored Houston, a team that featured two future NBA Hall of Famers, Hakeem Olajuwon and Clyde Drexler, and liked to dunk so much that its nickname was “Phi Slamma Jamma.” Valvano knew if the game became a track meet, State would have no shot. Nobody could run with Houston. So in those days before the shot clock, the Wolfpack patiently ran their offense and played stout half-court defense and did all they could to take Houston out of its preferred gear (high), and stop the Cougars from dunking. It worked. Houston had its worst shooting game of the tournament (38 percent), and had a brutal night at the free-throw line (10-for-19).
State’s final possession lasted almost a minute. After a timeout, Houston switched from man-to-man defense to a halfcourt zone trap, and came within a fingernail of stealing the ball twice. State was completely out of rhythm and in the final seconds, 30 feet out, Whittenburg picked up a deflected pass and launched it towards the basket. It wasn’t close. State forward Lorenzo Charles saw it was way short, grabbed it out of the air slammed it down just before the buzzer. The team that lived by the dunk died by the dunk, and the next thing you saw was Valvano running around the court like a man dodging cars, looking for somebody to hug.
A few months later, I spent an afternoon with Valvano in Raleigh, first in his office and then in his favorite Italian restaurant in town. “Not many people move here for the Italian food,” Valvano said. I was working on a featured Q. and A. for SPORT magazine. Being with Jim Valvano in Raleigh at that time was probably like being with the Pope in Rome. Everybody wanted to say hi, shake his hand, give him a shoutout. He was one of the best and funniest interviews I’ve ever had, but more than any of his jokes, I remember what he taught me about the power of a single word.
He took a piece of paper from my notebook and wrote down this sentence:
“I hit him in the eye.”
Then he looked at me and said, “Okay, now we are going to take the word ‘Only’ and put it in that sentence in different places.”
“Okay.”
And thus began the best English lesson I ever got from a basketball coach, as Valvano said each permutation of the sentence aloud, along with the corresponding shifts in meaning.
Only I hit him in the eye. (Meaning: Nobody else hit him in the eye. Only me.)
I only hit him in the eye. (Meaning: I didn’t do anything that terrible. Just hit him in the eye.)
I hit only him in the eye (Meaning: I didn’t hit anybody else in the eye.)
I hit him only in the eye. (Meaning: I didn’t him anywhere else.)
I hit him in the only eye. (Meaning: He was a cyclops.)
I took the piece of paper home and tacked it on the center of my bulletin board. It was still there a decade later, when Valvano was terminally ill and gave his famous speech at the ESPY’s, announcing the launch of the V Foundation to fight cancer. It was brilliant and funny and honest, pure Jimmy V all the way, and you can watch it again below. You won’t be the only one crying.
https://www.v.org/about-us/our-story/
I vividly remember him running around on the court.
John and I [re]listened to his speech tonight, and — yes — we did cry again, together. He was an amazing man, and State is an amazing team this year. He’d be proud. GO PACK!