The year before I’d covered the final Final Four played in a small gym, Kemper Arena, and 1989 was the first year it would be played in a massive gym, the Kingdome in Seattle. The Kingdome has been imploded so if you go the spot where Rumeal Robinson hit the game-winning free throws with three seconds left to lift Michigan to an 80-79 victory over Seton Hall, it will not look quite the same.

But it WILL likely still be raining. As it did all that week of the 1989 Final Four. Nothing against rain. Or the Pacific Northwest. Or against lovely, clean, wet Seattle.

Maybe as the town itself is wonderful but a little different, 1989’s final weekend of basketball was the same.

Seton Hall was down by 18 points to Duke and roared back to win by 17 in a hard-to-watch second half. In the second game of the All-Big 10 semi-final doubleheader, Michigan, beaten by Illinois twice in the regular season, won an 83-81 battle against the Illini, who would finish a healthy 31-5 — but not a national champion.

As it happened in the finals the year before when Danny Manning of Kansas scored off an offensive rebound late to put the exclamation point on an 83-79 victory over Oklahoma—the Sooners had beaten the Jayhawks twice in the regular season—Michigan’s Sean Higgins grabbed a missed three-point shot and scored inside with two seconds left, a knockout blow for the Wolverines against the no-longer-Fightin’ Illini.

Illinois head coach Lou Henson’s team was ranked No. 1 at one point during the season. Henson had led the Illini to seven straight years of tournament play before reaching the Final Four — then lost to team he’d beaten twice during the regular season. Sports. Sigh…

Instead, the 1989 champion would be either Michigan or Seton Hall’s Pirates, coached by the thickly bearded P. J. Carlesimo.

This set up a title game that few if anyone saw coming. Seton Hall of New Jersey has its way with the Big East but was a 3-seed from the WEST Bracket—so the NCAA Committee made them earn it for sure—and Michigan was a 3-seed from the Southeast. And you might remember that the Wolverines were coached by Steve Fisher, who, going into the final against Seton Hall, had been their coach for — give me a second to court — five games. What? Well…

Michigan’s coach during the regular season, Bill Frieder, agreed to take the basketball job at Arizona State for the 1990 season. He told Michigan athletic director Bo Schembechler he’d stay to coach through the tournament. Schembechler said thanks but no thanks, fired him, and hired Fisher. “I don’t want someone from Arizona State coaching the Michigan team,” Schembechler said as Fisher was announced as Michigan’s new coach. “A Michigan man is going to coach Michigan.”

Is that beautiful? A guy always knew where he stood with Schembechler, who understood that spoken communication is a beautiful thing. As was this final game — until the last three seconds.

(If you want to watch a recap—the Phantom Foul is at the 9:30ish mark—go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-sV-0zz93k

Seton Hall guard Gerald Greene was whistled for bumping or holding or breathing on Robinson, who dribbled left to right near the foul line with three seconds left and Michigan down by a point.  Referee John Clougherty, a name known to every college basketball fan of that era because he’d called tons of big games and would call a dozen Final Fours in his Hall of Fame career, quickly made the call from underneath the basket. Greene’s hand had touched Robinson’s hip, but you know how you put your own hand on your hip? It was like that. Only not as hard or aggressive.

It was as if the wind had been called for a foul.

Robinson, who shot the free throws as if he were in his back yard or sitting in an easy chair, made the first to tie and the second to win. A Seton Hall shot from the time line, left side, banked long off the glass at the other end.

And that’s how the 1989 season ended: with a quick whistle and a long miss, and two cool-customer free throws in between.

The last time I saw Rumeal Robinson, he was eating at Outback Steakhouse in Shreveport after a Shreveport Crawdads game. Is that 20 years ago? He looked just as relaxed as the most recent time I’d seen him before that, from my seat to his left along the free throw line, where he sank two with :03 left to win it for Schembechler, for Fisher, and for Michigan men everywhere.

-30-

SECOND IN A SERIES

DESIGNATED NOTE: This week, we will bring you remembrances of the four Final Fours we covered during the 1980s, back when authority figures allowed us to do such things. Today: The 1986 Final Four in Reunion Area in Dallas.

My second Final Four was pretty much of an accident. I had no business being there and neither did LSU. But thanks to the longest layover in aviation history, there I was at mid-court, third row, to witness LSU vs. Louisville and Duke vs. Kansas.

(PERSONAL NOTE — If you look at the picture on the front of the website — not the one above — you can see my back at dead middle mid-court in the third row in the light-brown shirt!)

I have two very specific memories that I’ll get to in a second – and neither one of them has to do with what happened on the court.

But first, the story on how I got there. You’d think that a Shreveport paper covering an event in Dallas wouldn’t be a big deal, but in order for me to do it, I had to go by way of Scottsdale, Ariz.

Fair Grounds Field was about to open in April, 1986, and a new era of Shreveport minor league baseball was upon us. To help get ready for that, the Journal sent me to Arizona to cover the San Francisco Giants’ minor league spring training. But before I left, I was told that on the off chance that 11^th-seeded LSU beat No. 1-seed Kentucky, I would stop off in Dallas on the way home and stay for four days.

To be honest, I wasn’t that fired up about it. I had a three-week old baby at home and after being gone for a week, I knew I’d be anxious to get home and get ready for the Captains’ season. But I can still see Ricky Blanton waving his arms running down the floor after LSU clinched the win over Kentucky and I knew that meant I’d be posted up at the Hyatt Regency for four days ($85/night!!!).

Once I got there, I realize that it wasn’t like I was covering a middle school volleyball tournament. And with that sweet spot on press row, I could suck it up for a few days and be OK with it.

Louisville, led by freshman Pervis Ellison, beat LSU 88-77 and in a battle of #1 seeds Duke beat Kansas 71-67. That leads to the first thing I remember the most – the mood in the LSU locker room.

For the entire month of March, I had been around more than my share of rabid LSU fans. These people couldn’t believe their good fortune and were rightfully excited about their team’s run through the tournament. When it was over, I saw the crushed faces of many of them, especially since LSU led by eight (44-36) at halftime. None of those faces, however, were in the LSU locker room.

Granted, I wasn’t in there two minutes after a buzzer-beating loss, but I was stunned as to how matter of fact the players took the loss. No hanging heads or red eyes. Yeah, it was a great run … Wish we had won … we gave it all we had … etc. Then they grabbed their stuff and got on the bus.

Since then, I have learned how common this actually is. My problem is that I mistakenly thought the LSU players are caught up in the emotion like the rest of us. Instead, their insulation from all of that is what allows them to do what they need to do. Play your hardest, play your best and leave it all out there. If some sophomore is so broken up that he can’t go to Poly Sci class for a week, that’s his problem.

I learned that day the proportion of emotionally crushed fans is far higher than it is for emotionally crushed players.

My second memory came in another room of Reunion Arena. Duke led for much of the game, but a late Louisville rally gave the Cardinals the national championship. After all of the press conferences were done, I found Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski in a room talking to the media. After about 10 minutes, it was just Krzyzewski, me and a couple of other print reporters, basically just shooting the breeze. He had a soft drink can in his hands and we talked about the season and the Final Four and whatever else came up.

I remember thinking – and later writing – that it’s too bad it didn’t turn out better for Duke because this was basically their one shot at it. Their coach seemed like a really nice guy. They had four starters graduating and this was the year they had been building for since Krzyzewski took over in 1980. Looked like they were headed back to being just another ACC team.

How did that turn out?

TOMORROW: Teddy Allen covers the 1988 Final Four in Kansas City

IN CASE YOU MISSED IT (WHERE WERE YOU?!?!)
1982 Final Four (New Orleans)