His place is near the end of the bench. He can accept that. On rare occassions, the sweatsuit comes off, and the stubby legs and shaven blond haircut make their way onto the floor.

But for most of the game, Nate Althouse is a spectator. He stands with periodic regularity, flailing his arms and releasing high-pitched screams, looking for support from the Rec Hall crowd.

There is a timeout, and Althouse is the first man on the floor to rush toward his sweat-soaked teammates. He is a buoy of energy among a sea of fatigue.

Nate Althouse, Penn State's 5-foot-10 12th man, will assume his usual duty when the Lions travel to Purdue for a 5 p.m. game on Saturday. A former team manager, Althouse is just happy to be there. He doesn't even worry about quality playing time.

"Coach (Bruce) Parkhill's given me a great opportunity to be on this team," Althouse said. "I just want to make sure I make the most of it and do my best to contribute."

And there are those rare occasions, when the game is well in hand and the outcome is long-decided, when the fans begin to stir from their seats and head toward the exits.

Some call it garbage time. It is that time when every 12th man on every team all over the country simply gets his chance to shine. In Minnesota, the students don masks of their own bench-warmer, Hosea Crittenden.

It is during garbage time that the cries begin. They emerge from the depths of the students' section of Rec Hall. They begin softly. Then the crowd catches on, and they grow.

"We want Nate!" they scream. "Alt . . . house," they chant.

On Wednesday, while the Lions were putting the finishing touches on an 89-80 win over Iowa, the chants began. And so the Lititz native cast an expectant eye toward Parkhill, his chin in his hand, a slightly embarrassed smile breaking across his face.

Finally, the coach could resist these groupies no longer. Or so it seemed.

"I usually don't hear the fans," Parkhill deadpanned afterward. Then he smiled. "I'm glad they like him. He's a special guy."

Those final images emerge fast and furiously.

Nate Althouse runs to the scorers' table amidst a storm of applause. He enters the game with precisely 22.5 seconds remaining.

He is the point guard.

He takes the inbounds pass and is immediately swarmed by two Hawkeyes in the corner of the court. He is fouled. The fans are in an uproar.

Nate Althouse, a 40 percent foul shooter (that's 2-for-5), steps to the line. He misses both shots.

"You look at my stats, I'm a great foul shooter," he joked. "I guess I just choked, in other words."

But Althouse is not finished. Seconds later, his tiny body rockets down the court at lightning speed. He reaches in for the steal from Iowa's Jim Bartels. The referees whistle him for a foul.

The crowd cheers anyway.

"The whole students' section was cheering," he marveled.

That's the way it is with Nate Althouse.