DUKE WAS DOWN, CAMERON WAS HUNGRY, AND THE BLUE DEVILS NEEDED A MIRACLE — THEN TERRY CHILI STEPPED TO THE LINE.
In what’s now remembered as one of the most emotional wins in program history, Duke’s 69-67 victory over Maryland in 1976 wasn’t just an upset — it was a turning point. Long before the banners, before Krzyzewski, before Final Fours became expected, it was this electric night — led by a reserve player few had heard of — that gave Duke basketball its first great moment under Bill Foster… and lit the first spark in a legendary revival that would soon capture the sport.
When Bill Foster took over in 1974, Duke basketball wasn’t just down — it was nearly forgotten. After Vic Bubas stepped down in 1969, Duke cycled through mediocrity, and by the mid-70s, the once-proud program had become an afterthought in the ACC. The Blue Devils were no longer feared. They were rebuilding. And it was slow.
Foster’s early years didn’t offer much to hope for. His first two seasons ended with a combined 26–27 record. Even wins over rivals like UNC felt more like isolated upsets than signs of a resurgence. Cameron Indoor, now one of the most electric venues in sports, was hungry for purpose. It needed something — or someone — to believe in.
That belief arrived on February 21, 1976, in the form of a 69–67 upset over a loaded Maryland team. But more than the scoreboard, it was how Duke won that mattered.
The Terps were stacked — with stars like Steve Sheppard, Mo Howard, and Brad Davis — and Duke, at least on paper, had no business being in the game. They started Tate Armstrong, Jim Spanarkel, George Moses, Willie Hodge, and Mark Crow — a gritty lineup, but far from elite. It was heart versus hype. And heart won.
In the final seconds, with the game hanging in the balance, it wasn’t one of Duke’s big names who made history. It was Terry Chili, a career reserve whose name is rarely mentioned in Duke lore. But on this night, Chili became a legend. Calm under pressure, he nailed two clutch free throws that sent Cameron into pure chaos.
What followed was one of the most electric post-game celebrations in Cameron history. Students didn’t just storm the court — they climbed the baskets, roared with joy, and bathed the arena in a fever only Duke fans can truly understand. The beast had been starved. And that night, it feasted.
The impact? Tremendous.
A year later, Mike Gminski arrived. Then came Gene Banks, Kenny Dennard, and John Harrell. Within three seasons, Duke would be playing for a national title. But that magical run didn’t begin with a top recruit. It began with a gritty upset, a forgotten player, and a fanbase that found its fire again.
Foster’s tenure at Duke would lay the foundation for everything that came after. He proved Duke could win again. He turned a program of question marks into a team with swagger. He made Cameron a fortress — one that would, over time, become the most iconic venue in college basketball.
So when Duke fans celebrate the banners, the Final Fours, and the legends, they should remember February 21, 1976. They should remember the night a no-name reserve nailed two free throws. They should remember when the first real roar of the Foster era echoed through Cameron’s walls.
Because before greatness comes belief — and that night, Duke believed again.
