LOUISVILLE, KY -- "A fan's game," he called it. "An alumni game. An Everybody-Who-Supports-Your-Program game."

"You've got to win this game in order to have a great Christmas and I haven't had one of those in quite a while. Then again, this is a team I love," the smiling, laughing coach of the Indiana Hoosiers said in his locker room Saturday. "And I've got a new contract. So if we're getting beat by five, I'm not gonna hang my head like it's the end of the world."

Ah, but that was nearly 39 minutes and 55 seconds before he saw it happening again; thirty-nine hundred nerve endings twitching and fifty-five thousand raw wounds opening before he exploded again; a brief eternity of accumulating demons before Mike Davis knew he would lose the annual Indiana-Kentucky bloodbath a third straight time and it would, in fact, be the end of the world yet again.

	Losing to Kentucky for a third straight year brought out the worst in Mike Davis.

And so he roared onto the Freedom Hall court while the ball was still in play -- flapping his lip, slapping his head (to indicate the foul he thought should have been called), whapping away at all those twitches and wounds and demons like a crazed lunatic from some horrific ancient Knight-mare. And he kept verbally assaulting referee Bert Smith as if the site of this bitter rivalry had suddenly transmogrified from Louisville into Who-Ville and the official was that thieving, stealing, criminally insane, infamous dirtbag himself, The Grinch.

So it was that: 1. Smith (no relation to Kentucky coach Tubby Smith, though at the time Davis acted as though he was convinced they must be Siamese twins) had no recourse but to charge the Indiana coach with the second of two technical fouls and toss him from the premises. 2. Instead of the Wildcats' Keith Bogans having to cash in on two throat-clogging free throws to protect Kentucky's 65-64 lead with three seconds left, he could go to the line with six free throws staring him in his suddenly relaxed face. (Bogans made five for the 70-64 final score.) And 3. The previously undefeated Hoosiers were denied any chance to knock off the hated enemy from the southern district of what the screaming, evenly divided blue-and- red-outfitted Freedom Hall denizens sometimes refer to as "Kentuckiana" for only the second time in the last nine seasons.

"Yeah, I cost us this one. A lot of games are won in the last two seconds," acknowledged a finally subdued Davis nearly an hour after the contest -- and after he had profusely apologized to his team, his team's supporters, the officials and everybody else save Strom Thurmond and the Dixiecrats. "(I apologize) especially to the officials. They have families too.

"No matter what happened on the play, we tell our players to keep their composure. And I lost mine ... I looked into (Bert Smith's) eyes. I remember his expression. There's no way I should have embarrassed him like that."

And then Davis said something else: "That's ... not ... me."

Well, it is and it isn't.

No, Davis -- who, remember, worked under that master of disaster, Bob Knight, long enough to be trained in such methodology -- didn't throw any chairs or slam any phones or accost the nearest Hoosier within strangling reach. And, with the quick apology, Davis did seem sincerely sorrowful for coming so close to ruining a magnificent battle -- post-incident behavior impossibly beyond Knight who considered himself knever knegligent.

But every young, vibrant college coach worth his slick suits and his competitive juices is half the time lovably schizoid and t.h.i.s close to meltdown -- check some old tapes of Hall of Famers like Dean Smith, Mike Krzyzewski or even Cool Hand Lute Olson (say, last Saturday night when The Lutester wasn't exactly crooning 'Blue Bayou' as his own No. 1 Wildcats withered against LSU.) And as for Davis, it's obvious Kentucky is not just a watershed game every season, it's his personal Waterloo.

Matter of fact, it was after 'Tucky beat Indy two years ago here that Davis (then, that ridiculous "interim" title attached to his name) issued his infamous "I don't think I can coach this team" cry in the wilderness. He practically offered to resign right then and go swab down the nags over at Churchill.

Subsequently, it was before the 'Cats whipped the Hoosiers last year at the RCA Dome in Indianapolis that Davis unwittingly lined the Kentucky bulletin board with his "I hate Kentucky" broadside; then following another double-figure loss, he said Indiana "didn't have enough athletes ..." but that "help was on the way."

	Look into my eyes, Mike. I didn't see any contact ... now, say you're sorry.

On Saturday that help -- specifically Bracey Wright, the hugely talented freshman wing who's making a cameo stop in Bloomington on the way to an NBA all-star career -- was the kid whom Davis trusted to drive for the winning bucket in the midst of which he was either face-and shoulder-hacked by Kentucky's towering Jules Camara, or he wasn't (replay angles were insufficient proof). Knocked off balance, Wright's runner hit the bottom of the backboard after which all Hoosier Hell broke loose.

("I didn't see it. Next question?" said the 'Cats' typically tight-lipped Smith.)

("I told Bracey he got hit," said Bogans. "But down the stretch you ain't gettin' that call. Anyway, I told him you got to have an act when you're tryin' to get fouled.")

As for the Indiana coach's rendition of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, Davis "didn't just cross a line. Believe it or not, he crossed the free throw line," wrote The (Louisville) Courier Journal's wonderfully wry Rick Bozich -- who incidentally graduated from Indiana, lives in Indiana and works in Kentucky; talk about schizo! "Davis needs to spend an extra afternoon with a therapist. ... There's something about UK -- The color blue? A dislike of Ashley Judd movies? A losing Derby exacta? What is it, Mike? Tell us please. I'm simply dying to know."

Psychic investigators have speculated whether Davis, an Alabama native, has suffered some long-ago trauma when he was a distinguished four-year player at 'Bama? But the Tide split 10 games against Kentucky during Davis' 1979-83 playing career, and in '82 beat the 'Cats by two points to win the SEC championship in Rupp Arena. Was it Adolph Rupp's racial leanings he would have objected to? Well, duh. But the Baron of the Bluegrass had retired from coaching six years before Davis began playing at Tuscaloosa. Maybe Citizen Mike had some old sled in his past and he's constantly been confused about the Run for the Rosesbud.

Whatever, Davis actually did enlighten everybody after the game, baring his characteristic, totally uncoach-like honesty. "I won't lie. Kentucky isn't 'just another game,'" he said ... again sincerely, passionately. "Kentucky is the team, the winningest team in college basketball."

But for the man who handles his emotions against his team's other hot rivalries, the Purdues and the Notre Dames, not to mention the Dukes and the Marylands -- Davis was the epitome of class and cool all during Indiana's stunning drive to the national championship game last March -- only to absolutely go haywire against Kentucky, there is one other factor.

"Tubby Smith," said Davis. "Nobody gives this guy enough credit. He is one of the great coaches. The fact that he won the national championship (1998) my first year as a college coach. ... When I'd be recruiting in the gyms, he'd walk in and, boy, I'd look at him and I wanted to be just like him. To compete against (Tubby). ... I can't explain it. I just want to win sooooo bad."

Which semi-completely explains why, with five seconds left on Saturday, that is the way Davis behaved. Fortunately, his blowup did not erase the courageous plays by both sides down the stretch that resulted in six lead changes in the final couple of minutes -- including a difficult postup move for the winning bucket (at :13) by Kentucky's vastly underrated center, Marquis Estill.

Davis' dyspepsia also failed to override: