Blue Devils look to avenge last season's loss at Clemson
(01/10/02 5:00am)
Nine wins, no losses heading into Clemson last season.
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Nine wins, no losses heading into Clemson last season.
ANN ARBOR, Mich. -- Ask any Wolverine about his game against Duke Saturday, and he will say it was decided in the first eight minutes, when the Blue Devils, in a blizzard of slam dunks and 23-foot jump shots, propelled themselves to a 29-4 lead. For Duke, Jason Williams dropped 14 in just a couple ticks over four minutes, and both Mike Dunleavy and Chris Duhon capitalized on fast breaks created by strong team defense. On the other side, LaVell Blanchard, Michigan's most heralded player, picked up three fouls in seven minutes, overshadowing the fact that he scored his 1000th career point later in the game. And the local police should have restrained Bernard Robinson, who had averaged close to 12 points a game coming into the day, from throwing up brick after hopeless brick. Nevertheless, amidst the carnage in Crisler Arena, Carlos Boozer and Chris Young were just warming up underneath for what later developed into the most intense one-on-one matchup of the Blue Devils' young season. Despite his team's demise in that decisive time period, Young took a commanding early lead in the game's most compelling on-court subplot.On consecutive trips down the court, the 6-foot-9, Plymouth, Mich., native drew a shooting foul after a technically perfect box-out of Boozer, and then executed a quick spin move that added two to the board and left the normally chatty Boozer completely dumbfounded. Seconds later, Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski decided that the junior center needed a rest, and the first battle of the war ceased with a clear victor. "Chris Young was our catalyst today," Michigan coach Tommy Amaker said. "He was our one big bright spot with his presence inside and ability to score. He really anchored the inside for us." In fact, the first half ended with Boozer looking fully outclassed by Michigan's big man. Against lesser opponents, Boozer typically maximizes his output by asserting his brute strength to overpower his defenders. Nevertheless, realizing that he needed a physical performance to reverse that trend, Young used all of his 240-pound frame to stop Boozer from creating any easy shots, and the Alaska native headed into the locker room with only six points on 1-for-4 shooting. Krzyzewski, impressed and slightly taken aback by Young's performance, gushed over the Michigan center. "Young was sensational. He was very difficult to defend in the post, and they do very good things to get him the ball," the Duke coach said. "They use that kid as a real weapon. Two years ago, no one would say that about Chris Young, but that's what he is--a weapon." After a 20-minute intermission to assess the damage, Boozer returned in the second period with renewed vigor, and the prize fight reached its fevered pitch. In nine minutes of neck-breaking, head-to-head basketball, Boozer dropped 17 points without missing any of his six field goal attempts, while Young countered with 12 of his team-high 25. "The second half I was not doing a good job of getting around him," Young admitted. "I was playing behind him a lot, and he was getting good shots." Scoring totals aside, the two behemoths battered each other so thoroughly that they could only muster three rebounds apiece. At times it seemed as if they were simply too busy jockeying for better inside position to think to grab the ball. "I think they were both difficult for each other to defend," Krzyzewski said. "When two guys are pounding and pounding like that, you'll find that the center doesn't rebound too well. It's like they've just been in a sumo-wrestling match." Ultimately, the game itself did not hinge upon the victor of this particular struggle, but the contest's real drama, especially when Duke stretched the game out into garbage-time mode, played out under the boards. "It was incredibly difficult," Young noted, with a grin that expressed both exhaustion and pride. "I went up against one of the best big men I have ever played, and I came out having played a good game.... It was just confidence--confidence in myself, and my teammates having confidence in me." At the beginning of the season, Boozer said he wanted to show that he was one of the country's best big men. Saturday afternoon, he was one of the best big men on the floor, and considering his competition, Boozer should hardly feel insulted.
This must be a shock to this years' seniors.
I was drawn in by a smile.
Having crossed the threshold into the upper echelon of college basketball in 2001, Maryland finds itself cocked to explode into the 2002 Final Four, looking to claim a national championship that it certainly possesses the talent to capture.
To look into Carlos Boozer's eyes as the sun rises on this new season is to catch a glimpse of true self-confidence.
So this is the deal.
Jason Williams will score over 20 every night this year, Carlos Boozer will emerge as the dominant center in the ACC and Dahntay Jones will have the most goal-tending violations of anyone ever.
Even Hunter S. Thompson wouldn't bet against Lee Melchionni. By birth Lee entered into a family with innumerable advantages. His father Gary, now the president of the Duke Alumni Association, had played basketball for the Blue Devils in the early 1970s and has since earned a great deal of professional success. His mother Karen, seemingly possessed of only the most authentic brand of maternal compassion, gave her son as many opportunities to thrive as she possibly could.
On the leaderboard at the Franklin Street Trust Tar Heel Invitational, it never appeared as if Duke, who has now won this event five years running, needed any coming back to do.
All the old, stuffed shirt Virginia alumni with grey streaks in their perfectly coiffed hair and aristocratic smirks upon their tanned faces who returned to their alma mater for Homecoming sat in an impressive blue and orange horseshoe in Scott Stadium.
Loss, loathing and possible redemption in the Research Triangle.
A mere three weeks and four games into the women's soccer season, the Blue Devils (2-2) need answers and victories in a pivotal weekend against tough non-conference foes.
Dear Prudence, By the time you receive this letter, it'll be Friday morning, and three whole days will have passed since I first saw those planes and choked on that rubble and shed those tears. Only you, with your infallible possession of tact and decorum, know when the appropriate time to stop the grieving and begin the healing will occur. You see, I've been struggling with that down here. Even Tuesday night, exhausted, frantic and slightly numb from a day's worth of Blitzer and Brokaw, I shifted my thoughts away from one of the worst days in our nation's history to the best of my own. Forgive me. Anyway, I imagined myself as a lot younger--around nine--playing hooky from Ms. Frost's class. My dad allowed me this freedom that April afternoon because it was Opening Day at Dodger Stadium. The perfect mow of the grass, the smell of hot dogs and peanuts, the conversation about the game with my pops--completely cliched, but still without question, one of the purest days of my life. So Wednesday morning I awoke to hear Giants' reliever Wayne Gomes confess, "The more I watched the news, the more scared I got and the more I started to realize how what we do for a living is so minimal compared to the greater scheme of things in life." For a second, I agreed with him. How couldn't I? It's human lives versus earned run averages. Then, and this is where I'm still searching for answers from you Prudence, I remembered how I felt at the ballpark that Opening Day, and all of a sudden I wasn't so sure anymore. Of course, this is just me, and I am a rabid sports fan, but what about the way other kids just like me felt the first time they heard Cobain's wail on Nevermind or beat their rival at chess? They say that baseball and music and whatever other "insignificant" passion we may have down here does not account for much in the face of such disaster, and I don't think that anybody can dispute that. However, what makes the casualty numbers so utterly impossible to swallow is the fact that every single digit represents a life of a human being who loved the Redskins or Led Zeppelin or poker night with the guys. These so-called trivialities defined personalities and endeared people to their hearts. These trifles are part of the equation that makes human life so damn precious. At some point, and personally I believe sooner than later, though you know best, I feel as if we survivors can prove our resolve to those bastards by showing them that they have stolen lives, but not a nation's sense of joy and camaraderie. In the coming days, I want to see what George and the Washington crew do next, I want to celebrate the heroism of the rescue workers in New York and Washington, I want to grieve with my countrymen over the most devastating event in my lifetime, and at the same time, but to a much lesser extent, I also want to see if my Dodgers can earn a spot in the National League playoffs. Believe me, Prudence, I am not being delusional here. Though I am only human, I do not believe that I am incapable of combining all those desires into my daily routine, and I do not think that they are that disparate. Dear Prudence, when will I see you smile again?
Friday night's contest against intra-state foe Davidson (0-0) ushers in the beginning of the Robbie Church era for the Duke women's soccer team (0-0).
As Bobby Bowden, now 25 years enmeshed in Seminole folklore, stands perched above the Florida State practice field on his custom-built shaded tower, he does not see the same players that hoisted his team on their shoulders to the national championship game last season.
t's a beautiful moment, really.
The Blue Devils (15-1) managed to muster up a little drama in their 7-0 spanking of visiting South Alabama (15-4).
With the second-ranked Blue Devils up 3-2 in matches but on the verge of dropping No. 1 singles, all pressure fell upon the young shoulders of freshman Amanda Johnson.
The in-laws would have made better guests.