Behind the Belmont bench for (almost) the greatest upset in the history of March Madness.

Behind the Belmont bench for (almost) the greatest upset in the history of March Madness.

Behind the Belmont bench for (almost) the greatest upset in the history of March Madness.

The stadium scene.
March 21 2008 11:22 AM

Dispatch From the NCAA Tournament

Behind the Belmont bench for (almost) the greatest upset in the history of March Madness.

WASHINGTON, D.C.—National bonding is rare in American sports. We break into groups to root for our favorite pro and college teams, and this factional fandom means our games are zero-sum—when my guys win, somebody else's guys lose. But the NCAA Tournament is different. When an underdog gets a late lead, CBS zooms in and we all hope for a Miracle on Hardwood. On Thursday night, the nation (OK, minus a few Duke fans) prayed for the Belmont Bruins. Or, as they'll forever be known, that 15 seed that almost beat Duke.

In the Verizon Center, the crowd smells Blue Devil blood. With two minutes to go in Thursday's opening-round game, Belmont's Justin Hare gets fouled, and the Bruins have a chance to take the lead. As Hare walks slowly across half-court, flexing his wrist to tune up for the free-throw line, my view from press row is obscured by the Belmont benchwarmers, all standing and flapping their arms up and down to incite the crowd. The team's scrawny student manager looks like a strong candidate for spontaneous human combustion. He pumps his right fist and raises his arms above his head like Rocky, claiming victory with two minutes to go. Hare makes both free throws. Belmont's up 70-69. Fans in Arizona red and West Virginia yellow, finding common cause, writhe together in ecstasy. We are one nation under a "Duck Fuke" sign.

Josh Levin Josh Levin

Josh Levin is Slate’s executive editor.

Belmont's auxiliary cheerleading squad. Click image to expand.
Belmont's auxiliary cheerleading squad

The crowd has been on tenterhooks for a half hour now. During an earlier TV timeout, the Duke cheerleaders were booed mercilessly for doing nothing more than bouncing happily onto the court to shake their pom-poms. A sign that the crowd is in the Bruins' favor: There are three Belmont cheerleaders in the stands. I walk over and ask why they're not out with their seven female colleagues, and they tell me there's a little-known NCAA rule capping the number of spirit squad members who can be on the court at once. As Belmont takes the lead, the auxiliary cheerers bounce up and down like their on-court sisters but don't have room to do the splits.

The clock ticks down. Belmont has the ball up one with 40, 30, 20 seconds to go. With 17 seconds left, Bruins guard Alex Renfroe loses control in the lane and fires a wild shot off the backboard. Duke's Gerald Henderson rebounds and strides the length of the floor; nobody from Belmont steps in his path as he coasts to the basket and drops the ball in the net. Duke by one. Belmont's Hare misses an off-balance leaner, but the Bruins come away with the ball. Timeout. Belmont has the ball under Duke's basket with four ticks on the clock and a chance to win.

In a postgame interview, Belmont coach Rick Byrd says he's envisioned calling this play his whole life. Every kid who grew up playing basketball has imagined taking, and making, this shot. Four seconds to beat Duke, four seconds for the greatest upset in NCAA Tournament history. In these backyard fairy tales, everything happens like it happened for Bryce Drew and Valparaiso, not how it happened for Belmont's Renfroe. Belmont called for Triangle, a play in which Renfroe lobs the ball to the front of the rim, where the team's best leaper, Shane Dansby, would be waiting for a dunk or tap-in. But Dansby got bumped as he rolled to the basket, screwing up the timing and leaving Renfroe's pass to float aimlessly. The ball eventually landed in the hands of Duke's DeMarcus Nelson. Then a foul, a missed free throw, a Belmont half-court heave off the left side of the rim. Ballgame.