One of the most thrilling and important games in the history of this tournament that doesn’t get mentioned enough happened on March 30, 1991: Duke’s 79-77 upset of previously unbeaten UNLV at the Hoosier Dome in Indianapolis.

Or maybe it’s been mentioned enough and decades have passed. But I feel like I see Grant Hill to Christian Laettner — which happened one year later — 500 times for every replay I see of UNLV’s Anderson Hunt missing a 3 at the buzzer, into the hands of Bobby Hurley, into scenes of euphoria on his side and disbelief on the other. Keith Smart against Syracuse, Michael Jordan against Georgetown, Mario Chalmers against Memphis, Gordon Hayward from halfcourt against Duke — so close! — the finishes immortalize the games.

But Laettner’s winning foul shots, into Larry Johnson’s regrettable decision to pass to Hunt rather than attack, should warrant more replay rotation considering what that national semifinal meant. Yes, it meant Bob Knight’s 1975-76 Hoosiers were preserved as the last perfect team, fittingly in the Hoosier Dome. It meant no repeat title for Jerry Tarkanian and his renegade Runnin’ Rebels.

Most importantly, it was the last night in American sports history that it was OK to like Duke. More accurately, it was the last night it was OK to not hate Duke.

This was supposed to be a Hater’s Guide to the Final Four, following up similar public services before, such as the College Football Playoff and World Series. But Duke doesn’t leave much oxygen for anyone else. Haters and Duke go together perfectly, like peanut butter and jelly. Or liver pate and Pinot Noir.

Florida’s gator chomp is goofy. At least half of the Auburn and Florida fans on hand Saturday at the Alamodome will have been tricked into believing they’re about to see an unsanctioned spring football game. If Auburn coach Bruce Pearl and Houston coach Kelvin Sampson meet in the title game, it’ll be the show-cause showdown. Are we good here? Back to Duke.

Yes, of course, people hate Duke because of all the winning. Two days after Mike Krzyzewski’s inspiring upstarts upset UNLV — avenging a 30-point blowout loss a year earlier — they took out Roy Williams and Kansas for the championship. It was his first and Duke’s first. He would win four more with the Blue Devils, more in that time than rival North Carolina, Kentucky and Kansas, the blue bloods that laughed at the idea of Duke being part of their club until Krzyzewski forced his way into it.

But Connecticut has won six championships in that time, its first in 1999 coming at the expense of what still might be Krzyzewski’s best team ever. So why don’t people hate UConn like they hate Duke, even with Dan Hurley begging them to do so?

One, Duke has more than a decade’s head start on inclusion in another exclusive club, that of Notre Dame football, the Dallas Cowboys, New York Yankees and the like — sports franchises that boast large followings and engender deep resentment among those not on the respective bandwagons.

And then there’s all the elitism, hypocrisy and objectionable personalities. “Two rings” Hurley may get there some day, but as of yet, there’s no documentary in existence titled, “I Hate Danny Hurley.” It’s been a decade since ESPN debuted “I Hate Christian Laettner.” It took him a year to go from righteous slayer of the UNLV dragon to face of sports villainy.

On the same night he hit arguably the greatest shot in NCAA Tournament history, off the Hill baseball pass to beat Kentucky in the Elite Eight, Laettner also stomped on the chest of Kentucky’s Aminu Timberlake while he was down on the court. It looked like a pro wrestling move. Duke has churned out more than its share of college hoops heels since then.

Forget that for every Cherokee Parks, Steve Wojciechowski, JJ Redick and Grayson Allen — players who annoyed opponents and non-Duke fans to the point of inspiring some to construct websites devoted to hating Duke — there are actually many more Duke players who are easy to like. Guys like Grant Hill, Thomas Hill, Chris Carrawell, Shane Battier, Jon Scheyer and, really, the entire team he’s coaching in San Antonio this weekend. I guess one rotten grape can spoil the whole bottle of Pinot.

Laettner apologized for that kick, by the way, in the documentary, which is a fair and nuanced look at how a narrative can spin out of control.

But see, that’s really the issue with Duke, at least for people who have paid much attention to college basketball in the 40 years since Duke became its most consistent force. The 1991 Duke-UNLV subtext was “program that does it the right way overcomes program that does it the wrong way.”

Time and perspective recast the late Tarkanian as a guy who had the guts to call out the farce of amateurism and big business coexisting, the guy who famously said of the rule enforcers who loved to make an example of him: “The NCAA is so mad at Kentucky, they’re going to give Cleveland State two more years of probation.”

Time and perspective also tell us Krzyzewski had an amazing knack for raking in the best talent in America for a guy who offered only room, board, tuition at an elite private school and his coaching skills. You don’t compete at that level for that long if you don’t swim in some murky waters at times, and if you think Duke never did, search Myron Piggie on Google. Or Marvin Bagley III.

Too many in media have wanted to confer “white hat” status on Krzyzewski as compared to, say, a Tarkanian. That’s not to say Krzyzewski didn’t do things “the right way” or that there isn’t a difference. But “the right way” used to be falsely applied to the farcical idea that some coaches were above having to deal with the underground — but very real — market. It should apply exclusively to caring about players as more than players and enhancing their development as people.

Krzyzewski’s magnificence in that area helps explain why the Duke brand is as strong as ever today. Also, just because you have an elite academic institution with a lot of top students in your program doesn’t mean you take only top students. You have to make exceptions and deal with outside forces to get the best talent all the time. Krzyzewski had the best talent all the time.

Still, there’s a “holier than thou” thing about Duke. Maybe it’s more from the outside than the inside. But it’s there. And that’s where the haters draw their inspiration.

Now that the money’s on the table, things are very different. Except that Duke still gets the best players. Duke might have another great coach, too. Scheyer has handled the enormous task of following his mentor with aplomb, with humility, with no arrogance detected. He’s hard to dislike.

But give him a championship, and some time.

(Photo of Grayson Allen and Mike Krzyzewski: Streeter Lecka / Getty Images)