SOUTH BEND, Ind. -- At delirium's edge, Pat Connaughton couldn't feel his right leg as he stared at the madness cascading down from the stands. Of course, everything about a night turned into morning of basketball had been mad. Now some of his Notre Dame teammates were screaming and hugging in the eye of the swarm at midcourt, but Connaughton stayed on the periphery. Near the bench, walking on a bum ankle, the sophomore waved his arms slowly up and down. He was asking, of all things, for more.