The Din Surrounding Duke Has Grown Dim

Krzyzewski has become a symbol of what is good about the sport and a lightning rod for those who can't stand coaches who win and win and win. As he has gotten older, Krzyzewski has come to respect his former rival Dean Smith more and more because he has come to understand what Smith dealt with when his North Carolina program was both dominant and hated.

Several years ago, Smith pointed out that he thought it was tougher for Duke and Krzyzewski because there is so much more attention paid to college basketball these days. Every Duke game is on national TV, and Dick Vitale seems to do about half of them, screaming about the greatness of Krzyzewski and Duke until normally reasonable people start to throw things at the television set. But there's more to it than that. Unlike Smith, who never endorsed anything, Krzyzewski has become a very wealthy pitchman for corporate America; he's written books on how to win and on how to lose and on how to tie. (Or so it seems.) He has put himself out there and, in doing so, made himself and his program a target.

Duke might very well climb the heights again in the near future. It won't be easy. Roy Williams has rebuilt North Carolina to superpower status, and the ACC appears deep and talented and will be for a long time to come. But Krzyzewski's greatest strength may be dealing with failure. The last time his team was a No. 7 seed in the ACC tournament was in 1983, when the Blue Devils lost to Ralph Sampson and Virginia, 109-66. There were some who thought then that the third-year coach with a record of 38-47 might not survive.

Early the next morning, sitting in a Denny's at 3 a.m with some friends, Krzyzewski heard someone raise a glass of water and say, "Here's to forgetting about tonight."

Krzyzewski picked up his glass and said, "Here's to never [expletive] forgetting about tonight."

No one hated Duke that night. For most of the next 23 years, people hated Duke. Now, those who do are doing it by instinct, because their memories tell them they're supposed to.

No one hates losers. You can bet that right now Krzyzewski hates not being hated. And he probably won't forget what it felt like walking off the floor here Thursday night. Outside of the N.C. State section, it was almost quiet.

The sound of silence is the sound of defeat. It is very quiet around the Duke basketball program right now.