Double Feature

THE FASCINATING fraternal battle for national player of the year that has been going on at Duke this season seemed to have cooled off last Saturday night: Neither senior forward Shane Battier nor sophomore point guard Jason Williams looked the part. As Maryland—nine-deep, jet-propelled, driven by a hatred of all things Duke—pulled farther and farther ahead at Cole Field House, holding a 10-point lead with a minute remaining, the dynamic duo disintegrated at an alarming rate. Battier, a religion major who says at times he "feels the chi," attaining the absolute calmness of mind described by the Shaolin monks he has studied, was uncharacteristically getting backdoored on defense and rushing his shots. As for Williams, the former captain of the chess team at St. Joseph's High in Metuchen, N.J., he had already reached double figures in turnovers early in the second half, having put his own game in check by hurtling into the heart of a defense that was unimpressed with his growing reputation as the best backcourtman to hit the ACC since Stephon Marbury.

However, in six minutes destined to live in infamy in College Park (the final minute of regulation and five in overtime), the Blue Devils pulled out a 98-96 victory that was as improbable as any you'll ever see, a victory that further focused the national spotlight on Battier and Williams and left eighth-ranked Maryland—coaches, fans, players—with a case of transcendental blues it may not shake for quite a while. As he left the court, Terrapins coach Gary Williams, a man who even in the best of times does not feel much chi and whose record against Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski had just fallen to 3-22, looked as if he had been sentenced to watch eight hours of Coach K motivational speeches. Some Maryland fans vented their frustration by pelting the area behind the Duke bench with bottles. Renee Boozer, the mother of Blue Devils center Carlos Boozer, said she was hit by flying glass, and the mothers of Williams and sixth man Chris Duhon said they had been hit by plastic bottles. (None of the three were seriously injured.)

To their credit the Terps, dejected almost to the point of despair, blamed themselves for "playing 39 minutes instead of 40," as forward Byron Mouton put it. Someone asked point guard Steve Blake about the disparity in personal fouls. ( Maryland was whistled for 31 to Duke's 21.) " I wish I could talk about that, but I can't," he said. The underlying meaning was obvious and not new: Many hoops observers think that Duke, because of the goody-goody reputations of its chess-playing, religion-studying players and the reigning patron saint of coaches, gets way too many calls at home and a few too many on the road.

Fact is, the Blue Devils were nothing less than sensational in the final minute of regulation and nothing more than steady and solid in OT, exactly what one would expect from a team that in 20 games has lost only to Stanford, 84-83. ( Duke was to face a tough test at home against North Carolina on Thursday). The player of the year candidates were right in the thick of things as well.

With a minute and a half remaining, Maryland's lead, which the Terps had held since midway through the first half, was still in double digits, and the Cole crowd, thirsting for blood, directed an "Overrated! Overrated!" cheer at second-ranked Duke. It died quickly, but not before offending the Blue Devils. "Oh, we heard it," said Battier. "We didn't say anything about it, but we looked at each other."

The lead was still 90-80 with 1:01 left. Then, suddenly, the margin was five points, after Williams scored on a fast-break layup, made a steal off a trap on the ensuing inbounds play and nailed a bloodless three-pointer practically from the Duke bench. After two missed Maryland free throws, another Williams three-pointer cut the lead to two with :38 to go. Then senior Nate James—the son of a Marine, the guy "who's in the boiler room making the yacht go," as Krzyzewski puts it—stared into a hostile, placard-waving crowd and made two free throws to tie the game at 90 with 21 seconds to play. "I did the same thing I always do," said James. "Imagine I'm back in the gym, nobody around except someone throwing the balls back to me. I never heard the crowd."

Duke's dual dynamos did it all in the five minutes of overtime. Williams made two free throws, assisted on a Battier three-pointer and picked up a steal. In addition to nailing the trey, the 6'8" Battier made a free throw, grabbed two offensive rebounds and sealed Maryland's misery. With time running out, the Blue Devils clinging to a two-point lead and Terps guard Juan Dixon heading for the basket, there was Battier, having seen the play develop, sloughing off his man and waiting in the driving lane. He went up and cleanly rejected Dixon's shot to send Duke to 19-1 and Maryland to 14-5 and agonizing introspection.

The Blue Devils have had many types of leadership during the Coach K Era—Bobby Hurley's New Joisy-guy toughness, Christian Laettner's use-the-opponent's-gullet-as-a-doormat insolence, Grant Hill's statesmanlike smoothness—but none stand up to the Battier blueprint. He's the rap-on-the-knuckles nun who gets on his teammates, Williams included, if they don't execute practice drills correctly. He's the mother hen who pumps up the lowest reserve. He's the studious debater who talks politics and economics with backup big man Matt Christensen (Battier is the liberal; Christensen, the son of a Harvard business professor, is the conservative). He's the earnest student-athlete who likes to show Krzyzewski that he has pored over every nuance of the playbook.

During an 85-62 home win over Wake Forest on Jan. 24, for example, Krzyzewski sent the team out for the second half with instructions to run its "line" alignment on out-of-bounds plays. "Is that traditional line or modified line, Coach?" Battier asked, remembering that Krzyzewski had tweaked the formation on a previous occasion. Battier is Al Gore with mad hops. He may also be player of the year.

Then again, he may not. His 19-year-old teammate, Williams, is a player so gifted that he already seems to be a blend of the three Dream Team guards against whom he competed last summer as a member of the U.S. Select Team—equal parts Tim Hardaway (stocky body type), Jason Kidd (versatility) and Gary Payton (gamesmanship). The Hardaway torso gives the 6'2", 196-pound Williams an advantage when he gets into the paint. "Even when he's not quite by you, he's in effect by you," says Duke assistant Johnny Dawkins. "He's too strong and solid to let you get back in front of him." The Kidd game gives him an arsenal that can fill up a box score (25 points, seven rebounds, five assists and two steals against Maryland). Finally, the Payton 'tude gives Duke the cocksure court presence that opponents still think it lacks.