COLUMN: In pursuit of culinary satisfaction

From Josh Callahan's, "A View from the Porch" That is what Penn men's basketball coach Fran Dunphy said following his team's 100-58 drubbing of Lehigh on December 7, 1996. The 100 points earned every fan in attendance a free cheesesteak from Abner's -- the one and only time Abner's has paid out on its promotion. Students weren't the only ones getting free cheesesteaks. Local homeless people also got fed, courtesy of left-over tickets handed out by Nate 'The Cheesesteak Man' Allison. Allison's two years of Penn hoops were unremarkable and mostly invisible, as he rarely played. In three minutes and 24 seconds, however, Allison earned himself a place in Palestra history, and a most unusual nickname. "Honestly, I didn't care what Dunphy thought," Allison said last night. "The fans come, and you pay your ticket and you want to get entertained. I thought it was a little something for the fans. Basketball is supposed to be fun." Allison entered the game with the rest of the bench warmers and Penn at 90 points. He soon hit a three pointer for points 94-96. He saved his triumph for the end, fouling a Lehigh player to get the ball back with seven seconds left. Penn pushed the ball up court, where Allison put back a missed three pointer with two seconds left to notch points 99 and 100. In those three minutes, Allison scored his only three pointer and half his total points for the year. He only saw the floor for 10 more minutes that season, and left the team before his junior year after being asked to drop down to J.V. Allison said he loved playing and didn't mind J.V., but for the North Philly native who spent his high school days playing with Kobe Bryant and Brian Earl, it wasn't worth the time commitment required. · "I don't remember anything being fun about it. Not one thing do I remember being fun about it because it is at the expense of somebody else's defeat," Dunphy said last night. "I don't know why we're talking about this. This is old news." It is old news for Allison too. The Wharton senior has moved far past the realm of cheesesteaks and is looking toward graduation and a job related to his real estate and finance concentrations. He also has found a replacement for basketball as the driving force in his life -- his 11-month old daughter Nina. His goal is to provide the life for his daughter that he didn't have growing up. Living in a row house in North Philly, his mom was the only person in his family to attend college before him. Now Allison finds himself, "humbled and blessed" to have JP Morgan, Lehman Brothers and other companies knocking down his door and offering a solid future for his daughter. · "Everyone on the court was saying, 'play your game, don't worry about that,' but it was in the back of everybody's mind," senior forward Mike Sullivan said last night. Sullivan, who scored his only points of the season to push the total from 96 to 98, was one of the four other players on the floor with Allison at the end. He agreed that while it wasn't a monumental win in Penn history, it was certainly one to remember. It is one fans remember fondly as well. While it's unlikely that a repeat performance will happen tomorrow night, there are bound to be chants of 'cheesesteak' resonating through the Palestra before the night is through. Allison will probably be one of those cheering along, enjoying his chance to be a 'regular' student. Following his quiet exit from the team, Allison said he enjoyed learning what it is like to not have his life governed by a basketball schedule. Noting that the grass is always greener on the other side, Allison said he enjoys having the chance to see both sides of the fence first hand. He feels he could have contributed more to Penn basketball, but has no regrets. And who can blame him? In three famed minutes of work on the Palestra floor, he knocked down a three, thrilled 3,000 fans, fed the homeless and earned a special, if somewhat odd, place in Penn history.

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