Through the door of Locker Room No. 30 at Madison Square Garden, a head poked: "Three minutes to go, Mr. Hickey." The sawed-off evangelist in the brown pin stripe nodded and continued his spiel. "The ball belongs to the champion," he said. "Possession! Control! Don't go for the bucket. Wait until the bucket comes to you!"
The door opened again. "One minute, Mr. Hickey." Ed Macauley, the string-bean (6 ft. 8 in.) center who is probably 1948's best college basketball player, nervously wiped his ashen face. "And remember," said the little man, "conserve your...
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