He’s in Their Faces : Laettner Tells His Teammates What He Thinks

Christian Laettner has always heard the voice from within. It tells him to demand, not ask, for the ball when it matters most. It tells him perfection is to be worked for, not wished for. It tells him to grind a sneaker heel into an opposing player’s chest, to unleash a primal scream after a rebound, to so thoroughly dominate games that even his teammates are reduced to hushed awe.

The voice never stops. It is what drives him, never allows him a moment’s rest. It is his best friend and his worst enemy. It is what has made him the most complete and competitive player in college basketball and also one of the most puzzling and misunderstood.

During his remarkable career at Duke, one that now includes four consecutive visits to the Final Four and an NCAA championship ring, Laettner has never ignored the voice. After all, it is the one he trusts most: his own.

When he was a freshman, Laettner once found himself being consoled by senior guard Quin Snyder. Laettner had had a terrible practice and it was Snyder’s job to make sure the young center’s ego wasn’t damaged beyond repair.

“You didn’t do such a good job today,” said Snyder, putting his arm around Laettner.

For the ultra-intense Laettner, it was the perfect approach. Perfect because no one was a harsher critic of his work than Laettner himself.

“That worked when (Snyder) did it to me because I realized I had done poorly,” Laettner said. “I didn’t need somebody to yell at me a second time because I was already yelling at myself.”

The voice.

As the seasons passed, Laettner established himself as the leader of the Blue Devils. But unlike Snyder, who counseled with kindness, Laettner adopted an approach more in keeping with his personality. He yelled. He intimidated. He alienated.

Duke point guard Bobby Hurley knows about Laettner’s methods. Hurley, a year younger than Laettner, has feuded with him the most. Theirs is an odd relationship, one built on opposite personalities.

Hurley is a bit shy and occasionally needs gentle care. Laettner enjoys the glare of the spotlight and the attention that comes with it.

“No one thinks more highly of me than probably myself,” Laettner said. “I think that’s fine.”

He has been described as arrogant, which makes Duke Coach Mike Krzyzewski bristle. “Don’t mistake confidence for arrogance,” Krzyzewski said.

Whatever it is, Hurley has sometimes struggled with Laettner’s demands. During a game against Georgia Tech in 1990, Hurley and Laettner were arguing so strongly that Hurley almost didn’t get the ball past the half-court line in the required 10 seconds.

“I never ran into a situation where a teammate of mine was telling me how to play my game,” Hurley said. “He might have had some good things to say, but he needed to work on his delivery.”

And during the second round of the East Regional at Greensboro, N.C., Laettner and Hurley yelled at each other on the Duke bench during a timeout.

Laettner doesn’t mind the exchanges. If anything, he welcomes them. He likes it when a teammate challenges him. The way Laettner looks at it, the scream sessions serve a purpose. They inspire. They motivate . . . sometimes.

“Bobby has (responded),” Laettner said. “Bobby always has, but not in a good sense. The way he retaliates is in a very vindictive way. You don’t want him vindictive, you want him in an, ‘OK-I’m-ready’ way. He thinks I’m getting on him just to yell at him personally. But it’s never that way. It’s to get him to play better. It’s to get (teammate) Brian Davis to play better. (But) Bobby takes it as a personal affront sometimes.”

Laettner swears at his teammates. Pushes them. Hits them. Anything to make them squeeze the most out of their talents.

Last Wednesday, a day before Duke played Seton Hall in the East Regional semifinal at Philadelphia, Laettner was asked to report to a makeshift studio for a CBS interview. Before he left, Laettner ordered a teammate to deliver a message: “Tell those guys that we (stunk) in practice.”

So blunt is Laettner, that Krzyzewski once called him aside and asked him to be less critical.

“Christian,” said Krzyzewski that day, “you don’t have to be so hard on your teammates.”

But Laettner can’t help himself. For years, he thought that whenever Krzyzewski criticized something about the Blue Devils, the comments were actually directed at Laettner. With that as a mind-set, Laettner played even harder.

Still, what works for Laettner might not always work for everyone else. Freshman center Cherokee Parks, who must compete against Laettner in practice each day, sometimes looks shellshocked and completely flustered by the senior’s expectations.

Laettner couldn’t care less. He was challenged as a newcomer. Now it is someone else’s turn.

“Some of the kids on our team this year, they don’t know that they need to be yelled at,” he said. “They’re not yelling at themselves. I feel there are times when somebody needs to yell at them.”

So he does. A lot.

Laettner is not universally popular among his peers. Connecticut’s Brad Sellers became so angry after being elbowed by Laettner during an NCAA tournament game last season, that he tried pushing Laettner’s face into the court floor. And an Atlantic Coast Conference coach told Don Markus of the Baltimore Sun that Laettner was “a pain in the butt. But wouldn’t we all like for him to be our pain in the butt?”

Laettner, listed at 6 feet 11 but closer to 6-10, isn’t the best athlete on the top-ranked Duke team. That distinction might go to Thomas Hill or Grant Hill. He isn’t the best defender; Davis would earn that title. His jumping ability is average.

But what separates Laettner is his knack of asserting himself at the precise moments that can win or lose games. He didn’t miss a shot--free throw, jumper, anything--against Kentucky on Saturday. His two foul shots tied the score with 2:03 remaining in regulation. He tipped an inbounds pass by Kentucky’s Jamal Mashburn with eight seconds to play. The ball sailed out of bounds and as it did, the buzzer sounded to end the second half.

During overtime, Laettner scored eight of Duke’s 11 points. And, of course, it was Laettner who made the 17-foot fadeaway jump shot that gave the Blue Devils a 104-103 victory.

His big-game mystique, to say nothing of his good looks, have made him popular. At the team hotel in Greensboro, the elevator door opened long enough to show Laettner, a bag of potato chips in one hand, a pen in the other, signing autographs for two persistent fans.

Back at the Durham (N.C.) campus, two Duke secretaries help him answer the stacks of mail that come each week. Laettner said he has even seen someone wearing a “Laettner Lover” T-shirt.

“Sometimes it makes me feel uncomfortable,” he said of the attention. “But there’s not much I can do about it.”

Soon the hysteria will end. Laettner’s college basketball career will be finished by this time next week. He will have earned a second championship ring or he will have exhausted himself trying. Off to the NBA he will go, where it will be interesting to see what transpires the first time he yells at, say, Charles Barkley or Michael Jordan.

But whatever happens, Laettner will always have Duke. Already his jersey has been retired--He is one of only six Blue Devils to have been so honored--and his legacy secured.

“I realize more than anyone that my Duke career is almost over,” he said. “In a lot of ways, I’m enjoying it because I know we’ve accomplished some great things and the next level I move to is going to be a lot of fun.

“But I can’t really (appreciate what we’ve done) now because I’m still living it and I’m still trying to make more things happen, make more history.”

There’s the voice again: “Move forward. . . . Never be satisfied. . . . Push yourself to the limit.” For Laettner, it never stops.