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Sure, he missed two free throws with 3.8 seconds left. Every man, woman and child was on their feet. Nervous conversation rippled through the arena.

Tommie O'Quinn held up the letterman’s jacket.

Two point nine seconds turned into Phil Pressey’s 3-pointer rimming off and into Kyle O'Quinn’s arms.

In the locker room, the whiteboard still listed six keys to Norfolk State’s first-ever NCAA tournament game in green marker. Things like “transition defense” and “wear them down.” Players waded through dozens of texts on their smart phones. Called mothers. Pointed out web sites where they decorated the front page. Mentioned President Barack Obama and basketball analyst Charles Barkley picked against them. Evans never had time to address them.

“Oh, my goodness,” one shouted.

“Teachers might as well pass us all,” bellowed another.

“We’ve got to be trending right now,” senior Marcos Tamares said, then grabbed up his phone. “Twitter, oh, my god.”

A manager picked her way between the television cameras and microphones and over bottles of Minute Maid orange juice and blue Powerade.

“You all done being famous?” she said. “You’re not messing up the routine.”

She held a clear plastic garbage bag to deposit uniforms in.

Shouts of “O’Quinnsanity” followed Kyle O'Quinn into the locker room.

Down the hall, out the tunnel and in the arena, Tommie O'Quinn wondered if his wife, Regina, passed out at game’s end. Wanting to save money, she stayed home in New York.

“She’s going to be ashamed of herself for not coming, I’m telling you,” Tommie O'Quinn said. “Penny-wise and pound-foolish. … She may have been too nervous.”

He looked around, eyes wide behind gold-framed glasses.

“Unbelievable,” he shouted. “Unbelievable.”