They Take Honor Role Seriously : Duke: The Cameron Crazies pride themselves on their mastery of humor as a means to harass opponents.

The “Cameron Crazies,” as the 3,500 students who surround the court at Duke’s Cameron Indoor Stadium are known, are pre-law students, biomedical engineers and future CEOs and leaders of our country.

But make no mistake. These scholars know how to put down their books and have fun. They are at the head of the class when it comes to creative harassment.

“There’s only one word to describe this place--it’s a zoo, “ said NBC-TV’s Al McGuire, who joined the inmates in the stands a few years back dressed as a lion tamer--whip and chair in hand--while broadcast partner Dick Enberg tossed peanuts.

Duke students occupy the entire lower level at 9,300-seat Cameron, save for a buffer zone behind the visiting team’s bench.

“As far as I know, we’re the only major college program that gives its best seats to the students,” said Coach Mike Krzyzewski, in his 11th season at Duke and about the only man who can tame the animals. “They surround the court. And they don’t sit down. It’s a unique setting.”

That unique setting is the stage for some great basketball.

The fifth-ranked Blue Devils have gone to the Final Four four times in the past five seasons, including the past three. They are 13-0 at Cameron this season and 81-6 since the 1984-85 season.

It is also the stage for the kind of outrageous behavior only a Duke fan--or someone with a good sense of humor--can appreciate.

The Crazies have tossed Twinkies at a pudgy Dennis Scott of Georgia Tech during pregame warmups. They have chanted “Fehlwurf,” the German equivalent of “air ball,” while Washington’s Detlef Schrempf stood at the free throw line. They were all over big, bad Shaquille O’Neal when Louisiana State visited Cameron Sunday, and took an 88-70 pounding for its trouble.

“I’d say 99% of the time that our kids are clean,” said Krzyzewski, who meets with students before each season to set the ground rules for behavior. “The 1% that a group of fans might do, we’ll take action. But the students take action, too.

“But you don’t want to curb enthusiasm. I think, really, over the last few years, our students have been unbelievably good.”

“Home Court--50 years of Cameron Indoor Stadium” traces the origin of the Crazies to a game against Maryland in the late 1970s.

Terrapin forward Jim O’Brien had been nicknamed “Bozo” because of a receding hairline surrounded by a halo of springy red hair. During warmups, a Duke student, dressed in full clown attire, including a Bozo wig and floppy, oversized shoes, climbed out of the stands, got behind O’Brien and joined the Maryland team for layups.

That kind of spectator involvement would not be tolerated at most places. But it’s a different story at Duke, where the motto is: Make it unique; make it funny; show no mercy. A strange name, prominent physical feature or a recent visit to the local police department make opponents inviting targets.

When Spud Webb, the 5-foot-7 guard, was playing for North Carolina State, the Crazies threw potatoes onto the floor during introductions one night, chanting, “Hormones, Spud, hormones!”

During a game against hated North Carolina--it’s a mere 11 miles from Durham to Chapel Hill--the students got all over Tar Heel guard Steve Hale, who had a collapsed lung.

“ In -Hale,” screamed half the fans in Cameron. “ Ex -Hale,” answered the other half.

Coaches, too, are fair game. The courtside theatrics of former N.C. State Coach Jim Valvano often brought commands of “Sit!” from the Crazies. Once, Valvano gave in, sitting in front of his bench. The Crazies then screamed, “Roll over! Play dead!”

Said Valvano: “If I went to Duke, I’d probably be one of them.”

After N.C. State’s Chris Washburn had been accused of trying to steal a stereo from a dorm room, he was greeted at Cameron by oversized albums, headphones and Crazies dressed in prison stripes. When he committed a foul, students yelled, “Guilty!” and “Book ‘im, Danno.” One sign read, “Chris walks with the ball but runs with the stereo.”

“It spreads throughout the crowd very quickly,” Glenn Coleman, a senior from Wilmington, Del., said of the students’ ability to improvise. “The kids here are relatively smart and they can pick up what people are saying and apply it to whatever’s going on on the court at the same time.”

Much like the basketball team, the Duke students hit their stride about this time of the season.

“We do it pretty much throughout the season, so toward the end of the season things will pick up a lot faster than they do at the beginning,” said Coleman, who wears a basketball and rim get-up on his head as part of a tradition started by Air Force ROTC cadets five years ago. “But there’s nothing written out. Never has been. The stuff that happens will be totally spontaneous.”

Sometimes, the Crazies go too far.

In 1983, Maryland’s Herman Veal was accused of attempted rape. Criminal charges never were filed against Veal, but that didn’t stop the Crazies.

The chants and verbal abuse directed at Veal were ugly, obscene and tasteless. N.C. State fans had given Veal the business a few days earlier, but it was far more abusive here, where Veal was showered with women’s underwear and condoms.

Veal responded with 12 points, six rebounds, five assists and two steals in an 81-75 victory. As he left the court, he turned and winked at the crowd.

Local and national media critics didn’t wink at the Crazies’ behavior, though. Both the fans and the Duke administration were taken to task.

As a result, Terry Sanford, then Duke’s president, sent a letter to every student. It said, in part: “I don’t think we need to be crude and obscene to be enthusiastic. We can cheer and taunt with style; that should be the Duke trademark. . . . Think of something clever but clean, mean but wholesome, witty and forceful but G-rated . . . and try it at the next game.”

The Crazies responded at the next home game--against North Carolina.

Dozens of aluminum foil haloes were worn, and instead of flailing arms behind the basket on Carolina free throws, a student held a sign that read: “Please miss.”

Instead of chanting, “Bull . . . “ after questionable calls by the officials, the Crazies responded with a chant of, “We beg to differ.”

“The Veal thing was not in good taste, but again, that’s one situation in about five years, and then Veal has his career night,” Krzyzewski said.

Some players enjoy the ribbing from the Crazies. Coleman recalls Georgia Tech’s Scott as being pretty good at taking it--and dishing it out.

“One (fan) just put a dollar bill on the other side of the three-point line,” Coleman said. “Laid it down for Dennis. Dennis just looked at it, laughed, turned around and canned the shot, and gave him his money back.

“Then this other guy was giving Dennis a bunch of crap about something--this was when they were shooting about an hour before the game was supposed to start--and pointed to half-court.

“Dennis laughs at him, dribbles up to half-court, turns around, nods at the guy, throws the shot up, shows his follow-through, doesn’t even watch the ball and turns and walks to the locker room. And it goes in.”

Krzyzewski has seen the same type of thing happen in games.

“That’s the other thing that we tell our students,” Krzyzewski said. “Don’t get on one guy. Because usually, the way people play now, that kid has a career night.”

And, comedy aside, Coach K and Duke find nothing funny about that.