There are times when Mark Madsen hunkers down on the block, grunting, straining, seeking out contact, practically foaming at his mad-dog mouth, so focused on using that massive beef slab he calls a body to out-pound, out-hold, out-position and flat-out out-macho his opponent that he loses sight of the big picture. Like the ball. Or the basket. Or the eight other uniforms whirling around. "I have to remind him," says Stanford coach Mike Montgomery, "'Hey, Mark, there's a basketball game going on here. You ought to get into it.'"
Former teammate Kris Weems is a bit more explicit: "When Dog gets in that zone, it's a good idea to get out of his way. Opponents. Us. Doesn't matter. You never know when he's gonna run down the court and take you out."
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