Jan. 7, 2007

By Adam Lucas

Frank Deford was looking exactly like you would expect Frank Deford to look.

This was last winter and he was sitting in his New York City apartment with an expansive view of the city to his right and books from floor to ceiling on his left. He looked every bit the part of the Manhattan fixture that he has become over his decades of standout sportswriting--he was even wearing an ascot. Seriously, an ascot.

He sat in a leather chair, hunched his 6-foot-4 frame while he was crossing his legs, and rubbed his chin as he pondered the question. All that was really needed to complete the scene was a smoldering pipe in one of his hands and Joe DiMaggio to walk into the room and start telling Marilyn Monroe stories.

There are some places in New York where you don't feel like you're in New York. In Frank Deford's living room, you are absolutely, positively, in New York City.

Deford was pondering this question: in sports, is there ever a completely loveable giant?

He answered it this way: "I don't think so. I don't think it can be loved. It's hard for me to imagine that in basketball at any level."

He was talking in the more specific sense about big players, about Wilt Chamberlain and Bill Russell. But he might also have been talking, in the bigger sense, about giant teams. Every year, in every sport, there exist a handful of teams that bludgeon their opponents into submission. They are the teams that cause other fans to storm the floor after an upset victory. They are the teams that some people hate.

Basketball is a fragile thing. Being number-one in January means absolutely nothing. But right now--right this minute, in the wake of the 84-58 win over what is an NCAA Tournament-quality Florida State team--Carolina is one of those teams.

And with all apologies to Frank Deford, it's delightful to watch.

Last year was fun. Really, it was. It was enjoyable to sneak up on everyone and scrap for every loose ball and play defense and be heartened by close losses to good teams.

But you know what else is fun? Dunking on people. Like when Tyler Hansbrough got the ball at the foul line early in the game, surveyed the defense, and decided his best option was to careen towards the basket and finish the play with a vicious two-handed slam, causing his brother Greg to bounce out of his front-row seat and unleash a yell of "T-Booooonnnneeee" that could be heard all the way across the court.

Communicating on defense and contesting every pass is fun. Like when Florida State caught Carolina in a defensive switch in the first half and, for a brief moment, had superstar Al Thornton guarded by Wes Miller. Miller is a lot of things, but he is not the guy you want defending the rangy Thornton. But before FSU could take advantage of it, Danny Green had recognized the mismatch, and he and Miller shouted to each other to make the switch, and suddenly it was Green on Thornton, and that didn't seem like such a bad matchup. The possession ended in a missed Florida State jumper.

Missing shots is fun. Sometimes it is, and you know exactly what I mean. Like Vince Carter's off-the-backboard dunk attempt against Duke. Brandan Wright's first half one-hand alley-oop dunk attempt wasn't quite in that league, but it had the same quality that made everyone in the Smith Center rise out of their seats and start yelling, "Oooohhhhh!" as they saw the play develop. Then just as quickly the "Oooohhh!" turned to "Awwwww..." as the ball slammed off the back rim. They knew they had just missed, by the width of the iron, seeing an all-timer.

But they couldn't wait to see if it might happen again.

Maturity is fun. Like when Thornton dropped a three-pointer in Deon Thompson's face to make it 53-41 and then proceeded to tell him about it all the way down the court. What did Thompson do? He posted up, sealed off Thornton, and forced him to foul to prevent a basket. The foul was Thornton's third and he had to leave the game with 14:30 remaining.

Advantage: freshman.

So all those things are fun. Put them together and you get that moment in the game Roy Williams constantly preaches to his team about, the one they all wait to see: the moment when one team gives in.

Sunday night, it was as visible as perhaps you will ever see in an Atlantic Coast Conference basketball game.

"Oh yeah," said Brandan Wright, who played deceptively good defense on Thornton despite the Seminole's 29 points. "I started to see it at the end of the first half. They were really sucking wind. They were like eight deep and playing hard, but they were just outnumbered. Fatigue really sat in."

Consider this: with seven minutes left Hansbrough took the ball from the wing to the basket and slammed through another two-hand dunk to make it 70-49. Four Seminoles were standing close by.

Not a single one even bothered to jump.

Thornton is a great player and will make All-ACC. But Sunday he couldn't keep up with a parade of Tar Heels.

"Al Thornton was really tired," Ty Lawson said. "He was really slowing down on defense."

"You could tell he was dead tired," Bobby Frasor said. "And when I saw that at that point in the game, I thought they probably didn't have anything left in the tank."

On Florida State's last possession, they melted 20 seconds off the clock and appeared content to run out the clock. Finally, Leonard Hamilton gave a half-hearted wave toward the basket, signaling for his team to somehow try to penetrate the pesky Carolina defense.

But they couldn't, and the 26-point margin of victory was preserved. This team hasn't won by less than double digits since November, and they haven't won by less than 21 points in 36 days.

After the usual exchange of handshakes, the two teams left the Smith Center court. Florida State players trudged toward the visiting locker room.

The Tar Heels, meanwhile, sprinted off the court. Hansbrough was the last player to leave. As he did, a fan leaned over the tunnel--11 rows above the court--and tried to slap Hansbrough's hand. The big man from Missouri jumped, extended his towel, and tried to connect.

He almost made it.

The Tar Heels continued down the tunnel, still bouncing. For the most part, they looked ready to play another half if needed. No one had any doubt what the outcome would be if 20 more minutes were placed on the clock.

"This may be the year we're glad we're not playing them but one time," Hamilton said.

That's a Goliath.

Don't you just love it?

Adam Lucas's third book on Carolina basketball, The Best Game Ever, chronicles the 1957 national championship season and is available now. His previous books include Going Home Again, focusing on Roy Williams's return to Carolina, and Led By Their Dreams, a collaboration with Steve Kirschner and Matt Bowers on the 2005 championship team.