In 1983, former NC State basketball coach Jim Valvano published an autobiographical account of his team's drive to the national title, a run so classic it has become part of the annals of college basketball.
Viewers got to rewatch that famous win over Houston in the championship game Saturday afternoon on CBS. Below are excerpts from Valvano's chapter on that contest titled, simply, "National Champions!"
Excerpt from Too Soon To Quit (Part III)
We called a timeout with 44 seconds left to set up exactly what we wanted to do. We planned to use the same play we had used all year. That’s another reason we felt confident. We wanted Sidney in the middle with the ball, Dereck and Terry on each wing and Thurl and Lorenzo underneath. We told Sidney to do something, to make something happen.
As soon as the clock got under 10 seconds, Sidney was supposed to get the ball in the middle and go. If they come to Sid from Gannon’s side, the ball goes to Terry and he shoots it. The play worked that way in the Notre Dame game, and he barely missed the shot. If they help guard Sid from Whittenburg’s side, Dereck gets the ball and shoots it. If they stay out tight on those two guys, Sidney can penetrate a little and see what opens inside. That worked twice with Lorenzo against Wake Forest and Virginia. We figured they were going to guard Thurl pretty tightly because he’s such a good shooter. If they are tight with everybody, Sidney can penetrate and score himself.
Houston came out in a half-court trap, which is normally one of the easier defenses to hold the ball against. It’s tougher to hold the ball against good aggressive man-to-man pressure. If they were in a zone trap when Sidney began his move, he could get by the first trap and have wide open people all over the place. That was what was supposed to happen.
But give credit where credit is due. Houston did an excellent job of realizing we wanted the last shot. Even though we had a chance several times to take a shot earlier, we didn’t. We wanted the last one. We wanted to win the game or go into overtime.
We got a little bent out of shape, and a couple of times Houston almost got their hands on the ball. We didn’t have the proper positioning, and that was because of Houston. It wasn’t because we didn’t know what we were doing. The kids reacted the way they were supposed to react. We went into our 2-1-2 type of delay and passed it around. Houston was doing a great job with the trap. They were all good athletes who were quick and could jump.
We still couldn’t get in the proper set at the 15-second mark to be ready to make our move at 10 seconds. Houston was really coming at us with a lot of pressure. The ball went to Thurl in the corner, and he tried to pass it back out to the middle. Benny Anders almost intercepted his pass. That would have been “Good night” because he had time to go the length of the court and end the game with a Houston dunk. Instead, Dereck grabbed the pass and, not knowing how much time was left, threw up a 30-footer.
Lorenzo Charles saw that the shot was going to be short, reached up with both hands, caught the ball and dunked it. He was there because that was where he was supposed to be. He was in the exact position our last play called for.
To be in a position to win was exactly what we had asked of the kids. That’s what our players had done. They had defeated Houston 54-52.
As I’ve said before, some people wanted to call us the “Cardiac Pack,” some wanted to call us the “Team of Destiny,” some the “Cardiac Kids,” some “Destiny’s Darlings” and some wanted to call us plain lucky. When that ball went through the hoop on April 4, 1983, in Albuquerque, New Mexico, you had to call us only one thing: the national champions.
Everyone has asked me, “Coach, where were you running at the end of the game?” I want you to know exactly what I was doing.
After every close game Dereck would run over and grab me. We always looked for each other. He became my designated hugger.
When Lorenzo dunked the ball, I realized we had won the national championship, and I knew the cameras were on me. I wanted to do something spectacular. I was going to run out there and hug Whittenburg. I figured they would have it in slow motion. A picture of me and a picture of Dereck. We would be coming together with the theme from “Rocky” or “Chariots of Fire” playing. The scene would be great. It would be something the networks would play over and over, forever.
I ran out to hug Dereck, but when I got there he was hugging somebody else. There I was in Albuquerque, New Mexico, with 60 million people watching, and I had nobody to hug. I was all by myself out there with the cameras still on me. I had to do something. I turned right and people were hugging, so I ran left. I saw a whole lot of folks and figured I would go in that direction. When I got there, everybody had partners. I kept running and ran right into Willis Casey. He hugged me. That wasn’t so bad. Then he kissed me right on the lips. I could just see some guy out in Kansas saying, “Hey, Martha, come here. You’ve got to see this.”
After the game was over, I had to go on television with Brent Musburger. All during the time I was talking to him, I was worried about not getting a chance cut the nets. The kids were cutting them, and I didn’t think they would save a strand for me. I had waited my whole life to cut the nets after winning the national championship.
I finally told Brent, “I’ve got to go — they’re cutting my nets down.”
I’ve very rarely been at a loss for words, but I was genuinely speechless at the press conference following the game. I was overcome with emotion at what our kids had accomplished. As I sat on the podium with Sidney, Dereck and Thurl, I kept saying to myself, “We won the national championship in basketball.” I had been watching and following the tournament my whole life, and we actually had won it.
When my turn came to talk, I really didn’t know what to say. I had no funny lines to tell the people. I was hoping the press would ask me something.
The first question someone asked me was how I liked Albuquerque. That was a strange question to ask when we had just won the national championship, but it did give me the opportunity to respond to something.
I told them I loved Albuquerque and that it was my favorite town in the whole world. I said, “In fact, my wife is pregnant — she doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be — and we’re going to name our kid Al B. Querque.”
There were fewer questions asked in that press conference than any I’ve ever attended. I think most of the reporters couldn’t believe we were up at the front.
Back at the hotel, the Wolfpack party was incredible. All over the place people were shouting back and forth, “How ‘bout that Pack! How ‘bout that Pack!” My room was open house, and everyone including my friends and family were there.
All day Monday I felt like I was catching the flu, but I would not permit myself to get sick. When Pam asked me if I was coming down with something, I told her, “No, I’m not. I don’t have time to get sick.”
While everybody was partying in the room, I turned to Pam and said, “That’s it, I’m sick.” I finally succumbed to the bed with all the partying still going strong.
I was in the bed thinking how we started the season in Raleigh on October 15 with all those hopes and dreams, and now it was April 4 in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and we were the national champions. The world around me was totally insane, and I couldn’t be a part of it.
Late that night I looked out the window and saw Sidney, Dereck, and Thurl all dressed up. They told me they were going on the “Today Show.” I said, “I forgot about that. I’m supposed to go on too, but I can’t!” I was absolutely dead. I did not go on the “Today Show,” and I had to turn down “Good Morning America,” too.
When I got back to Raleigh, I spent eight straight days in bed before I could break my 102-degree fever.
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