The Eagles arrived at the University of Dayton Arena at ten minutes after six. A local television station had been alerted to the story, and the players were filmed getting off the bus, finally. Coach Britt had no comment.
They changed quickly into their maroon road uniforms and took the court. Florida had agreed to keep the gym locked until seven to allow a short, private practice.
In spite of the ice and delays and interminable bus ride, the players were in great spirits and even laughed at their misfortune. Caged for ten long hours, they were eager to stretch, sprint, jump, and burn off some energy. Lonnie would later say that it was the best half hour of practice of the season. Back in the locker room, they feasted on power bars and sports drinks and quietly listened to music with headphones. There were some nervous whispers, a laugh or two.
When it was time for the show, Lonnie huddled them close and said, “Two things, men. There are two things I want you to know. First, the experts believe we are twenty-six-point underdogs. Twenty-six. That means that they believe we don’t belong here. We’re not good enough. We’ve lost too many games. It means that no one respects us. Not those people out there. Not the other team. Not the selection committee. Nobody at the NCAA. Nobody in the press. None of the talking heads on television. We have not one ounce of respect anywhere. So, men, we have to earn it. The second thing is this.”
Lonnie held up a sheet of paper. “This is from the Tampa Bay Times, the largest newspaper in Florida. Its sportswriters cover the University of Florida. Yesterday, a reporter had a chat with Jerry Biles, Florida’s head coach. I know Jerry. He’s okay.”
With drama, Lonnie studied the sheet of paper. “They were discussing the big game this Friday up in Memphis when Florida will play Duke, the number one national seed, in the first round. Here is what Coach Biles had to say, and I quote: ‘We got an easy draw in the first round, not so easy in the second. But we’re not afraid of Duke. We beat Kansas and Kentucky and we can play with anyone. Bring ’em on.’？”
He lowered it, glared at his players, and repeated, “An easy draw.” He wadded it up and tossed it away. “An easy draw, and they’re already talking about Duke Thursday night in Memphis. As if this game is already over. As if we don’t exist.”
No one moved, no one seemed to breathe. Not a sound.
He lowered his voice and said, “I doubt if these jackasses have even bothered to scout us, so we’ll shake things up a bit. Sooley, you’re not starting. You’ll go in around three minutes so stay ready. We’ll run Kobe Four so lock in now on the shot.”
He tapped his palms together and said, “Men, we don’t deserve respect. Yet. Respect is out there on the floor, just waiting for us to go get it.”
CHAPTER 43
"Florida controlled the tip and Central went into a half-court press, with every player itching to scratch and claw and ready to fight off screens. A bad jumper bounced off the rim and Melvin cleared it to Rocker, who took his time bringing the ball up court. With eight seconds on the shot clock, Murray missed a 20-footer. Florida missed again, as did Central. Both teams were sky-high and still nervous. The ice was broken when Murray mishandled a pass that led to an easy fast break. Florida had two 5'10" senior guards who were quicker and faster than anything Central had seen in the MEAC. The first foul was whistled at 16:38 and Coach Britt yelled for Sooley. Down the court, he posted high and at 15 seconds sprinted toward the goal, fought off a screen, and popped out clear in the far corner. The pass from Mitch was perfect, as was the 30-footer.
Two days of complete rest proved beneficial, and the Eagles were more intense than Lonnie had ever seen them. The ice storm had delivered a gift. They smothered Florida’s bigs and the two small guards weren’t hitting. When Sooley hit his third straight three from downtown, a whistle blew for the under-16-minute time-out. Central was up 11–6 and Florida seemed off balance. In the huddle, Coach Britt continued to hammer away at their role as heavy underdogs who got no respect from Florida or anyone else. He challenged them to play harder.
Florida made no adjustments and seemed willing to see if Sooley might cool off. He did not. He missed his fourth attempt, hit his fifth from 28 feet, and the next time down pumped a fake, sent his man flying, drove hard to the rim, and dished off to Roy Tice for an easy dunk. The score was 16–8 and Florida took a time-out.
In the 14 games he had played, Sooley was hitting 47 percent of his threes, second in the nation. He had no preferred spot. He hit from deep in the corners, fading away, and from near mid-court. Many games ago, his coaches had realized that, for an offense otherwise lacking in gunners, Central’s best game plan was to let the kid fire away at will. Aside from his accuracy, what made his game so lethal was that he often followed his shot and picked off long rebounds that he converted to easy assists down low.