At Last, That Ivy Championship

By Dan White '65

Armond Hill sets up a play in his last Princeton game

At this juncture, Princeton lay four points back, having reduced an earlier deficit of 10. Expectations were that Princeton would now fall apart without Hill, but instead, it did not allow Rutgers to score a field goal for the rest of the game. With four seconds left, Princeton trailed 54-53 when Molloy was fouled. If he completed his first shot, he would be awarded a second, a chance for victory. Rutgers called time out. Play was resumed and Molloy stepped to the line. Rutgers called time out again. Braving the enfeebling pressure, once again Molloy stepped to the foul line, bounced the ball three times, aimed for the front rim, and launched it -- long, off the back rim, out of range. The buzzer sounded, and the season ended.

"Shooting," Carril says, "is a variable." He had also said earlier in the season, privately, after the first Rutgers encounter which Princeton had lost, 62-75, that Rutgers was so talented, so big, so fast, his team could play it a hundred times and not win once. He attributed the loss this time to fate and stayed up drinking beer with Molloy until 6:00 A.M.

The glory of last year's NIT was missing, but the accomplishments this

season were more solid, more a logical result of the season's progression. The final contest against Rutgers was the acme of the season's effort-every resource and every discretion were employed to the team's fullest capability, and in the end what remained was neither despair, nor even disappointment, but that pleasant sense of fulfillment.

The season was well-rounded: Princeton's first Ivy title in 7 years. an undefeated league campaign, two defeats of perennial champion Penn, two upsets of major powers Alabama and St. John's (the latter was some match, Lou Carnesecca, the bantam rooster of St. John's, having at Carril in a showdown of similar styles). There were other noteworthy events: a brief moment in the galaxy of the top 20, prominence as the country's premier defensive team, some sparkling individual performances, and two chances finally at supereminence Rutgers, who had become, at long last, the pride of New Jersey.

To recap briefly the events before the final Rutgers game: After the first triumph over Penn (PAW, February 2), Princeton had disposed of its remaining league foes with relative ease, although Yale had almost dismissed a perfect season, challenging Princeton point for point before succumbing by one. For all of Carril's anxieties about the Ivies there was a suspicion from the outset that the League was less strong this year than in the past. It was not uncommon for Princeton to limit opponents to scores of 16, 19, and 20 points in the first half. Cornell had only 35 the entire night in its initial thrust at Princeton's defense.

Interest focused on the outside meetings with St. John's and Rutgers. Princeton's win over St. John's propelled it to 16th in the national rankings. Its first contest with Rutgers, then number 8, was billed as the Battle of New Jersey. The afternoon of the game, an alumnus tried repeatedly to telephone Carril to read him some inflammatory statements by Rutgers players he had clipped from a Philadelphia newspaper. He hoped Carril would relay the comments to his team. Ticket scalpers hugging the windy deck in front of Jadwin in the aftermath of an ice storm got $15 for $3 seats, despite the fact the Great Event could be seen on television.

The game established a pattern that was to be copied when the two clubs met again at Providence-Rutgers hurrying the ball upcourt, shooting quickly to set a fast tempo, challenging Princeton's ball handlers the entire court, trying to force errors and turnovers. They were so fast, said one Princeton player later, they seemed invisible. Hill played magnificently but got into foul trouble and sat out much of the second period as Carril tried to run down the clock before reinserting his key man (another precedent for the second match). Princeton could not adjust to Rutgers' freshman center Jim Bailey, who stretched high into the air to thump away Princeton shots with a force seldom seen in Jadwin. Rutgers always seemed on the verge of breaking the contest open. Late in the second half, Princeton recovered to within two points, had its chance, but an intercepted pass led to a Rutgers streak and final defeat.

As the season approached its end, forward Frank Sowinski hurt his leg and missed several games. Because of his accurate jump shot, he had been nicknamed the "Polish Rifle" by Carril. Sowinski lived across the street from Bill Bradley in northern New Jersey and had enjoyed a few tips from him. In place of Sowinski, Carril used Bob Kleinert and Ilan Ramati. Kleinert had the second highest field goal percentage on the team, 59.2 (Ramati's was 59.7).

Mickey Steurer might list this campaign the least successful of his three, but, by season's end, his movements and hall handling bore the lineaments of his former style. Carril continued to start him, but when he wanted more pressure on the opponent's offense, more quickness, he substituted Omeltchenko, "Omo" as he is called. Bob Slaughter emerged as the most consistent performer in the last weeks, shooting 55 percent and rebounding vigorously. His teammates would elect him captain for the next season. Barnes Hauptfuhrer, alternating between basketball and his politics thesis (on the government's food stamp policy ), entered the club of Princeton players who have scored 1,000 points or more.

Limited by his small size, Molloy excelled in the role Carril forged for him, chasing the ball and guiding the offense part-time. And then there was Hill-under pressure, in victory or defeat, always graceful. Carril described him as the most unselfish ballplayer he had ever coached. He scored over 1,000 points and recorded more than 250 assists in his three-year career. Of all Princeton's players, he was the most certain to attract bids from professional teams.

This season was marked too by a mysterious ague that caused players to collapse to the floor after the slightest impact with opponents. Seller's fall was only one such example. Upon closer look, it appeared that such falls were part of a new strategy. In the last three years, basketball coaches have been instructing their defenders to step in front of the offensive man to draw a charging foul. A defender must allow an offensive man reasonable space and time to move or pass or shoot the ball before he makes contact with his body. If he does not, the referee can rule a blocking foul by the defender. If he complies with the rule, and then there is contact, it is a charge against the offensive player. Because the game moves so fast, it is difficult to determine who initiates the contact. Those who do a superior bit of acting are often given the benefit of doubt.

As an effective defensive weapon, the maneuver had gained in popularity rapidly until this year it was no longer possible to watch a contest without witnessing six or seven falls. Princeton had not resorted to such guile until a couple of years ago because Carril felt it was cheating. But when he noticed his opponents were exploiting Princeton, he too began instructing his athletes how to topple:

1. Be reasonably close to your opponent.

2. Rotate your arms wildly like the blades of a propeller.

3. Execute a back dive as if you were standing on a 3-meter board.

4. Emit a collision sound such as "omph" or "ugh."

5. Watch the referee out of the corner of your eye (as you fall). If he ignores you, jump up, cast an angry look, and resume play.

6. If you spot a look of compassion on the referee's face, relax and enjoy the foul call against the charger.

In last year's NIT, South Carolina players struck the floor so frequently in the early going against Princeton, it was surmised they had discovered some new principle of defense. The officials let them lay and South Carolina soon gave it up for straight basketball. The sin of Sellers' fall was that such a tactic, out of keeping with the fluid movement of basketball, interfered with the drama that was unfolding.

* * *

With two games left in its schedule, Princeton had a two-game lead when Yale defeated second-place Penn to give Princeton the league champion. ship. Asked why his team did not cele. brate its title by drinking champagne in the lockerroom, Carril-who with his history of second-place finishes to Penn had come to refer to himself as "Second-place Pete"-replied that his players were a beer-drinking team, not a champagne club.

Time and again in the opening half of the return match at Providence, Rut. gers appeared about to break away from Princeton, twice taking an eight-point lead. But Princeton countered Rutgers'' speed with its deliberate style of play. Several times, Steurer would start to race upcourt only to stop suddenly, as if Carril had jerked the reins, stand near the sideline at midcourt, dribbling and wait for his teammates to position themselves. Then they would begin weaving in and out, around and through the Rutgers team, working for one sure shot. Carril wanted to pass up four or five good shots for an exceptional chance, even if it meant waiting and waiting. Someone remarked that Princeton was going to force the NCAA to put in a 24-second clock. Rutgers liked to play defense, but it did not like to play defense so long. The plan worked and Princeton forced Rutgers to its tempo. At the start of the second half, Rutgers shook loose briefly and raced to a 10-point lead. Still, Princeton hung on, and crept back to within one point to create the final drama.

After the game had ended, Carril told a ring of reporters, "These seniors gave me one league championship, one NIT title, and they took the number three team in the country to the last seconds. They have a right to be disappointed, but they have no right to be anything else. They have no right to be ashamed. It was a great season. We did just about everything we wanted."