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On the second Sunday in March of 1979, Tony Price's cousins gathered around a TV in the Bronx to watch Penn's best player attempt to do the impossible -- lead the Quakers past North Carolina.

Penn had been in this venue before.

The 1971 Quakers team -- the 28-0 Quakers who at one time were ranked No. 1 in the nation -- marched into Raleigh and the Eastern Regional Final looking to go to the Final Four for the first time in the history of the program.

Forty minutes after the opening tip, the Quakers cowered home, fresh off a humiliating 90-47 loss against Villanova.

"It was a day that just burned in my heart forever," said Alan Yates, who was at the game and has been a Penn season ticket holder for the past 34 consecutive years.

Eight years later, Penn walked into the same stadium to face the No. 3 team in the land, Dean Smith's North Carolina -- the Tar Heels in ACC country.

Even people trying to make money on the Quakers didn't know who they were. Before the game, vendors attempted to sell Penn State paraphernalia to fans.

UNC -- fresh off a victory over Duke in the Atlantic Coast Conference Championship game -- came into the postseason with a 26-5 record, one of those wins coming over Magic Johnson's Michigan State team.

There was no way that Mrs. Price was going to go down to see her son play in Raleigh that day. She elected to watch the game in the Bronx with her nephews.

"She said she didn't want to see my last college game," Tony Price said.

Throughout the 1979 tournament, the Penn basketball team seemed to know something that nobody else knew.

Here they were, an Ivy League team, one that hadn't even gone undefeated in the Ancient Eight -- it fell to Columbia in New York -- up against some of the goliaths in college basketball.

Penn's road map to the Final Four? The coaches alone are intimidating -- Jim Valvano, Dean Smith, Jim Boeheim and Lou Carnesecca.

Under the new format of the 1979 Tournament, Penn faced what was, in effect, a play-in game on Friday afternoon. After defeating Valvano's Iona squad -- one that included Jeff Ruland -- 73-69, during the first-round matchup, Penn was set to face North Carolina in Raleigh.

"I'm not sure that initially, playing in Reynold's Coliseum against North Carolina, right in the middle of Tobacco Road, that anybody in the world, including our players, thought we had a chance to win," then-Penn assistant coach Bob Staak said.

Somehow Penn had to believe that it could beat anybody -- anywhere. A vision hit Staak during practice that day -- and followed the Quakers for the rest of the tournament.

The assistant coach approached the team with what he referred to as "a little secret that nobody knows but us.

"And they all looked at me like I was nuts."

Penn had high hopes entering the 1978-1979 season. Taking Duke to the wire in the second round of the 1978 Tournament, having led for a substantial part of that game, will do that to a team.

During the fall of 1978, four senior starters walked onto the court, each with distinct capabilities, each of whom could compete with some of the best players in the country.

Some argue that the 1979 team doesn't rank with the 1971 Penn team in terms of pure talent, let alone the history of the Big 5.

After all, the 1979 Quakers are best known for their team unity and ability to work together throughout the course of a game.

But that didn't mean they were devoid of some pure ballers.

Price was a highly touted recruit from the Bronx coming out of high school, getting looks from schools such as Syracuse.

Once he got to West Philadelphia, whomever didn't recruit the slashing forward quickly noticed his pure athleticism. Price ended up being the leading scorer in the 1979 Tournament, notching 142 points -- 23.7 points per game -- over the course of Penn's six games.

"We thought Price was as good as any player we had seen all year," said then-Michigan State head coach Jud Heathcote, now retired in Spokane, Wash.

Joining Price at forward, Tim Smith nailed the open jumper whenever teams were foolish enough to give it to him. As a first-year starter in 1979, the West Philadelphia native quickly adapted to his role, often serving as the second scoring option behind Price -- sometimes trumping him. The 6'5" swingman also happened to be the defensive stopper on the team and was able to play any of four positions.

Down low, Matt White used his size and strength in whatever way he needed. The self-declared "designated hatchet man," White proudly recalled that he would go on to lead the Spanish League in fouls seven times.

"He just kind of banged around and got the job done," Philadelphia sports writing legend Jack Scheuer said.

A walk-on from Choate High School when he entered Penn, White left the Quakers as a first-team All-Ivy center and was third in the nation with a 63.3 percent field goal percentage during his senior year.

Besides Price, teams legitimately feared guard Bobby Willis. Heathcote said that Willis, along with Price, was the main threat that the Michigan State zone tried to stop during their Final Four matchup.

Willis' backcourt mate and Penn's lone junior, James "Booney" Salters, had also received looks from Syracuse. With an opposite strong hand as Willis, the pair could set plays on different sides of the court.

The duo not only contributed to the offense -- they created it.

But the true miracle of the team was that when those five players stepped onto the court, they managed to morph into a unified force, each part pulsing the body forward.

"There was an ability for us to gel with each other," said Willis, who is currently managing a $77-million condominium project in Harlem. "Or for somebody like Tony to say, 'OK, let's go,' it was time to give 120 percent and change the course of the game."

In the not-so-distant past, White stopped to get gas in Virginia and heard two people talking about "Black Sunday."

"I immediately introduced myself into the conversation and instantly regretted it, since it had more to do with fishing than anything else," White wrote in an e-mail. "I managed to take full credit for both victories."

The date March 11, 1979 still lives in Southern college basketball lore.

The brackets had given North Carolina and Duke golden chances to stride into the Eastern Regional Finals. The games were not necessarily going to be cakewalks, but playing first in Raleigh and then in Greensboro, N.C., for the regional title certainly was an appealing way to enter the Final Four.

The Tar Heels held the lead against the Quakers for much of the game, but when Penn needed him most, the go-to guy stepped forward.

Price scored 15 of his 25 points in the second half, all with three fouls to his name. With nine minutes remaining in the game, the senior guard went on a 5-0 run of his own, giving the Quakers a 55-50 lead. North Carolina never recovered.

But it wasn't a one-man show.

With two seconds remaining and Penn hanging onto a two-point lead, Salters -- the smallest player on the court -- stepped to the line and gave Penn a 72-69 lead.

The Tar Heel's Pete Budko dunked the ball at the buzzer, but the score was in vain -- there were no three pointers at the time.

"We had a shot to win," said North Carolina coach Dean Smith, who would go on to become the winningest coach in college basketball history.

"They sure outplayed us."

But that was only half of the doubleheader.

Between the games, Penn coach Bob Weinhauer went down to the court and talked with his friend, Saint John's coach Lou Carnesecca. The two had become close when Weinhauer coached Massapequa High School in Long Island, N.Y., before he arrived in West Philadelphia.

Weinhauer was convinced that the impossible could happen twice.

"I said, 'Look, if we can beat North Carolina, you can certainly beat Duke.'"

Penn stayed for the entire St. John's-Duke game, cheering on the New York school, and in many cases the teammates' friends -- both Willis and Price had played against St. John's Wayne McCoy and Tony Carter during their high school years.

"Basically it was the North against the South, I guess," Willis said. "They were friends of ours. We knew after we won that we would have to play against them."

After an 84-76 victory over Syracuse in the Eastern Semifinals, Penn indeed met St. John's and defeated them, 64-62, in the stadium that had been reserved for the Tar Heels and Blue Devils.

The fruits of their victory? The gem of college basketball. The Final Four.

"We could have flown all the way back to Philadelphia without a plane," Weinhauer said.

"That's how high we were. It's just a feeling that I think you keep with you the rest of your life. Not that you live in the past, but it was something really special to have been able to go through that."

Penn had a secret. After going to the Final Four, it was clear that the team could compete with anyone. The concept flooded Penn's campus and its students' mentalities.

It certainly had the Quakers' opponents convinced throughout the tournament.

"We had a good team and Penn had a very good team," then and current Syracuse coach Jim Boeheim said. "They just really outplayed us.... They were not a fluke."

A banner across Walnut Street read during the tournament: "We have a secret."

Since 1979, the motto has morphed into its own being. The idea of its original intent varies from one that was created long after the completion of the season to a concept that was an overriding theme that began during the fall of 1978.

Staak, the originator of the phrase, maintains that it was introduced for the North Carolina game and blossomed from there.

But whatever the intent, now they would test it against supernatural forces, Earvin Johnson's Michigan State squad.

"We ran into what they call a buzzsaw," Price said.

The Spartans may have had Magic and fellow superstar Greg Kelser, but the Quakers had the game plan to defeat Michigan State.

There was not much scouting during 1979, and the only games that were televised nationally were the regional finals. But Dean Smith gave Weinhauer a tape of the Tar Heel's victory over Michigan State during the regular season -- the same North Carolina team that Penn had defeated on its own turf.

Off the opening tip, it looked like the Quakers could do it again, that their secret would be a reality. After White won the tap, Penn ran a set play, where the big man found Price on the box for a wide-open shot.

"Tony, you know, he's nervous," Staak recalled. "He's got a layup and doesn't even draw iron."

That first attempt exemplified a painful theme throughout the game.

Moments later, White had a finger roll and missed it.

Willis had an open baseline jumper later in the half and Kelser soared in from nowhere to swat the ball into the seats.

"We execute against one of the best matchup zones in the country, as well as anybody could. We just didn't finish it and suddenly we're down, 50-17, at halftime."

Even Heathcote admits Penn's ability to find seams.

"I don't think that we were prepared for a hard game if we had had one," he said. "We just got off to a good start and just coasted to victory. I said to a lot of people that Penn attacked our matchup zone better than anyone we had played all year. And they got open shots -- they just missed them all."

Penn went 24-for-82 on the game -- the Spartans attempted 60 shots.

Twenty-five seasons later, the 101-67 margin remains tied with the 1963 Cincinnati-Oregon State matchup as the largest point differential in Final Four history.

Weinhauer faced a quandary following the loss. He had to prepare his team for the consolation game against DePaul, but what exactly can a team do to overcome that humiliation? Is a day of practice really the way to go?

The Penn coach went to a source familiar with the consolation game -- too familiar for his own taste.

The Tar Heels had lost in the National Semifinals in 1967 and 1969, finally winning the third-place game in Smith's third attempt.

"In '72 we had the same situation, and we won, and we felt better and I think that's what I told Bob," Smith said.

"Just to take it very seriously because you'll feel a lot better with a win."

Staak remembers fights and screaming like he had never seen before at practice that Sunday. After all, what had happened to the secret? Wasn't Penn supposed to be able to compete with any team in the country?

"It was the worst practice you'd ever want to be at," Staak said.

Maybe the Quakers were still frustrated at the beginning of the DePaul game. Penn was down by as many as 23 points with four minutes remaining in the first half.

But after halftime, they were the Quakers of old, the dynamic Ivy Leaguers looking to shock the nation.

Penn stormed back against Mark Aguirre's Blue Demons, tying the game with 1:08 remaining and ultimately taking it to overtime. Aguirre's 34 points ultimately proved to be too much, though, with both Price and White sitting out with five fouls. The Quakers ultimately fell, 96-93.

After the game, Price criticized his teammates' commitment. But for him now, it was simply something that he said when he was young.

Staak's look back over the past 25 years is a bit different, however. He wonders whether the team felt that just getting to the National Semifinals was enough. Was that "the secret?"

Going into the tournament, Staak knew that he would be offered the Xavier head coaching job, but didn't tell his players until after Penn returned to Philadelphia.

While Penn was in Salt Lake City, Xavier phoned to ask Staak about who his assistants would be for the following year. But the Xavier administration hesitated in the midst of the conversation.

Why were they asking him about next year, when Staak was in the midst of helping to prepare for a run at the national title?

"That's the first time it hit me," Staak said.

"As I look back on it, it was almost like the jewel was to get to the Final Four, the jewel wasn't to win the whole thing."

Penn had gotten the monkey off its back -- it had redeemed the folly of the 1971 season.

Staak now wonders whether he could have inspired his team in some way, possibly created a new sort of secret. But it's too late for that now.

In just his second year, Weinhauer did the unthinkable. With four senior starters in tow, he ventured where no one dreamed they could. Sure they defeated Virginia and Wake Forest during the regular season, but the Quakers were still an Ivy.

Weinhauer stayed with Penn for three years following the 1978-1979 season and then moved on to Arizona State, where he coached Byron Scott. Eventually he would become an NBA general manager, leading the Rockets to consecutive titles in 1994 and 1995.

"It's not necessarily something that you think about every day," Weinhauer said, reflecting on how privileged he feels to have coached such hard-working players. "Maybe just every other day."

Staak moved on to coach his alma mater, Xavier, in 1980 and has been an assistant for five different NBA squads. He also feels honored to have worked at Penn, a location that brought together all that he hoped for from a basketball and educational program.

To the players on the team, it's a bittersweet feeling looking back on the 25 seasons that have passed since the Quakers made history.

"It's funny because I guess about two weeks ago it kind of really hit me," said Willis, who is sad that he hasn't kept in contact with people he was close to during his college years.

Price was recently talking about the possibility of returning for his 25th-year reunion, which coincides with the trip to the Final Four.

"It seems like it went kind of quick," he said. "Seems like it just happened five years ago -- make it 10."

As for White, who currently lives in Swarthmore, Pa., with his wife and two children -- "time flies when you're having fun."

The 1979 Quakers had a significant amount of fun. Winning is fun, after all. But it was a communal effort, also, one that espoused unity to an extra degree.

Penn was an incredible basketball team during the 1979 season -- "they were not a fluke."

They just happened to play Michigan State in the Final Four.

"It was a terrifically magical year," Scheur said. "And unfortunately, they ran into Magic Johnson."

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