The guys here at The Lawn Chair Boys have graciously asked me to join the crew, and in doing so expand my scope from simple minor league basketball to the great beyond of the sports world. By this I mean NCAA basketball, the Charlotte Bobcats/NBA, and some Carolina Panthers/NFL action. In short, I will be covering just about everything relevant to the North Carolina sports scene. Every once in awhile I might throw in a few anecdotes about the times when Teach and I were college roommates. But have no fear dear reader, they will remain (sadly) PG.
The reason I can cover this wondrous state with such ease is that I live in the heart of ACC country.... Durham, NC. Being a triangle native gives me great insight into the very soul of college basketball, and for my first post I wanted to ask a simple question: Why do people think that UNC and Duke fans should HATE each other?
Why does this looks like a flag? I have no idea, blame google images
Before we get into this let me be clear and fully disclose a dark secret. I am a Duke fan. Teach is a UNC fan. I'm pretty sure Langston is a UNC fan. And Stan Yuengling is definitely a Maryland fan (poor bastard). Just so we're clear now, everyone who writes for this blog is seemingly at odds, yet has managed to remain friends. Crazy I know.
Let me explain my Duke fandom. I was born into it. I've lived in Durham, NC for the majority of my life; and Duke is the home team. I have a picture of myself as a 1.5 year old in a Duke pinstripe onesie (insert child abuse joke here). I have countless relatives who have either attended or were affiliated with Duke. In short, this was inevitable. I am a true (dark) blue Duke fan.
Now, I also know the Duke fans that everyone criticises. The "Bandwagoners." In fact, I knew a girl in college who claimed her favorite teams were, and I quote, "all picked because a relative liked the teams." Those teams you ask? Cowboys, Yankees, Duke, Bulls. I mean seriously? Is it 1995? I'm guessing her favorite artist of all time is Montell Jordan. Sigh. These fans I'm not talking about. Their hatred towards rival teams are cheap imitations of an emotional spectrum they simply cannot understand.
Let me explain my Duke fandom. I was born into it. I've lived in Durham, NC for the majority of my life; and Duke is the home team. I have a picture of myself as a 1.5 year old in a Duke pinstripe onesie (insert child abuse joke here). I have countless relatives who have either attended or were affiliated with Duke. In short, this was inevitable. I am a true (dark) blue Duke fan.
Now, I also know the Duke fans that everyone criticises. The "Bandwagoners." In fact, I knew a girl in college who claimed her favorite teams were, and I quote, "all picked because a relative liked the teams." Those teams you ask? Cowboys, Yankees, Duke, Bulls. I mean seriously? Is it 1995? I'm guessing her favorite artist of all time is Montell Jordan. Sigh. These fans I'm not talking about. Their hatred towards rival teams are cheap imitations of an emotional spectrum they simply cannot understand.
I've caught crap from rival UNC fans before who are equally bandwagon, especially now, when the cup of talent and Cameron Indoor wins runneth over. Along the way I've never really understood why all of these guys/gals are so angry. Had they attended UNC or lived near the school? No. Had they lived in the triangle area (Durham, Chapel Hill, Raleigh)? No. Do they even have any sort of relation to the school/team? No.
All of the lashing out from people seemingly unconnected to the area/team just didn't add up to me. Because the bottom line is this: On Tobacco Road, it's all Respect. That's not to say that we don't talk crap or have some fun at the other's expense, but in the end, everyone who lives around and attends these two schools, respects the other side.
If you need convincing, then let me lay it on you. Because nothing is more convincing than a personal anecdote!
Two years ago, I was forced to move from Durham, the holiest of ground, to Chapel Hill. As I packed my stuff into the UHaul I was reminded of a TV show I had watched the night before. It was about a guy named Kirby who was a black belt in something called Combat Ki. Now from the looks of Combat Ki, it's the art of getting kicked and punched in extremely painful places all while not changing your facial expression. Kirby's task on this particular show was to take a monstrous kick in the nuts from a 6'8", 290 lbs black guy named Justice Smith. For reference, Justice Smith looks like the bastard love child of Mr T. and Mo'Nique. Dude is big.
All of the lashing out from people seemingly unconnected to the area/team just didn't add up to me. Because the bottom line is this: On Tobacco Road, it's all Respect. That's not to say that we don't talk crap or have some fun at the other's expense, but in the end, everyone who lives around and attends these two schools, respects the other side.
If you need convincing, then let me lay it on you. Because nothing is more convincing than a personal anecdote!
Two years ago, I was forced to move from Durham, the holiest of ground, to Chapel Hill. As I packed my stuff into the UHaul I was reminded of a TV show I had watched the night before. It was about a guy named Kirby who was a black belt in something called Combat Ki. Now from the looks of Combat Ki, it's the art of getting kicked and punched in extremely painful places all while not changing your facial expression. Kirby's task on this particular show was to take a monstrous kick in the nuts from a 6'8", 290 lbs black guy named Justice Smith. For reference, Justice Smith looks like the bastard love child of Mr T. and Mo'Nique. Dude is big.
All this guy wants to do is kick You in the balls.As Kirby prepared himself for the ginormous, ball-smashing kick, the host, who was standing to the side, made the comment, "Kirby tells us it takes five years of good training to get properly kicked in the nuts." High comedy. But this is what was running through my mind as I slumped into the driver's seat of the 30' UHaul on that fall day. I was a Duke fan, heading into enemy territory, for a huge kick in the nuts. I suspected I would have to watch the Duke games with the TV muted and wearing my Jason Williams jersey inside out. It was going to be oppressive.
Now flash forward to a few months after I moved in. (And dealt with a nasty roach problem coincidentally).
One afternoon, I decided to take a run down Franklin St. (the main UNC drag) wearing my Duke basketball t-shirt. Mentally, I had prepared myself for war. It was February, coldish (as only it can get in NC), and in the thick of the ACC schedule. As I went trotting down Franklin St, I saw a large group of tall men running in head-to-toe UNC gear. Anticipating attack, I slowly reached for my billy-club. Just kidding, just kidding, I don't run with a billy-club. So I slowly reached for my pepper spray.
As they approached I notice a familiar face in the crowd. It was none other than Coach Roy Williams. As he came running towards me, he looked me right in the face, glanced down at my t-shirt and said, "Hi there." Blown away, I quickly stashed my pepper spray (kidding), and awkwardly smiled and nodded in his direction.
My mind raced and my head spun. He didn't say anything nasty! None of his goons beat me up! Michael Jordan didn't repel from a helicopter and draft Wayne Ellington as he smashed me across the kneecaps with a 5 iron! It was astonishing.
Starstruck, I continued on my afternoon run, soon seeing a big, hulking man (once again dressed head-to-toe in UNC gear) come crab dribbling down the sidewalk towards me. As I got closer, I could see a slackjawed, fly catching mouth and dinner plate eyes....... It was none other than Tyler Hansbrough. I came running up to him, and this time with a more brazen attitude I said, "Hey Tyler, what's up?"
Without blinking (are you really surprised by that?), Tyler turned to me and said, "Hey, not much." And that was it. He didn't make any mean faces (not sure he physically could actually), he didn't cuss me out, his nose didn't randomly break; all in all he was just a nice guy. Just another member of the triangle community walking down the street.
And I guess that's my point. When you live right in the heart of the community that fosters such a fantastic rivalry, half of the fun is learning to get along with people who love the other team. UNC/Duke fans in the Raleigh/Durham/Chapel Hill trifecta don't sling meaningless hatred at one another, they find creative ways of digging at the other team, all while sharing a beer with the person they are smack talking with. The guy who fixes your car or handles your taxes might be on the other side of the rivalry, but at the end of the day he's still your friend.
So whenever I run across some isolated fan, a guy or girl who thinks they know what the rivalry is all about, I try to show them how it really works down here. Calling the other guy names, or throwing a beer at them, or just spouting off an endless array of profanities is not what this rivalry is really about. Because at the end of the day, loving college basketball should not be just another kick in the nuts.
Now flash forward to a few months after I moved in. (And dealt with a nasty roach problem coincidentally).
One afternoon, I decided to take a run down Franklin St. (the main UNC drag) wearing my Duke basketball t-shirt. Mentally, I had prepared myself for war. It was February, coldish (as only it can get in NC), and in the thick of the ACC schedule. As I went trotting down Franklin St, I saw a large group of tall men running in head-to-toe UNC gear. Anticipating attack, I slowly reached for my billy-club. Just kidding, just kidding, I don't run with a billy-club. So I slowly reached for my pepper spray.
As they approached I notice a familiar face in the crowd. It was none other than Coach Roy Williams. As he came running towards me, he looked me right in the face, glanced down at my t-shirt and said, "Hi there." Blown away, I quickly stashed my pepper spray (kidding), and awkwardly smiled and nodded in his direction.
My mind raced and my head spun. He didn't say anything nasty! None of his goons beat me up! Michael Jordan didn't repel from a helicopter and draft Wayne Ellington as he smashed me across the kneecaps with a 5 iron! It was astonishing.
Starstruck, I continued on my afternoon run, soon seeing a big, hulking man (once again dressed head-to-toe in UNC gear) come crab dribbling down the sidewalk towards me. As I got closer, I could see a slackjawed, fly catching mouth and dinner plate eyes....... It was none other than Tyler Hansbrough. I came running up to him, and this time with a more brazen attitude I said, "Hey Tyler, what's up?"
Without blinking (are you really surprised by that?), Tyler turned to me and said, "Hey, not much." And that was it. He didn't make any mean faces (not sure he physically could actually), he didn't cuss me out, his nose didn't randomly break; all in all he was just a nice guy. Just another member of the triangle community walking down the street.
And I guess that's my point. When you live right in the heart of the community that fosters such a fantastic rivalry, half of the fun is learning to get along with people who love the other team. UNC/Duke fans in the Raleigh/Durham/Chapel Hill trifecta don't sling meaningless hatred at one another, they find creative ways of digging at the other team, all while sharing a beer with the person they are smack talking with. The guy who fixes your car or handles your taxes might be on the other side of the rivalry, but at the end of the day he's still your friend.
So whenever I run across some isolated fan, a guy or girl who thinks they know what the rivalry is all about, I try to show them how it really works down here. Calling the other guy names, or throwing a beer at them, or just spouting off an endless array of profanities is not what this rivalry is really about. Because at the end of the day, loving college basketball should not be just another kick in the nuts.
16 comments:
Welcome aboard Iceman. To clarify, I am a UNC basketball fan. But as a military brat, my loyalties are spread. I went to UNC basketball camp all through middle school. My mom's family consist solely of UCLA fans and my dad's, Tennessee fans. I also attended UT for a couple years. So basically I am a UT fan who roots for UNC hoops and cheers UCLA. Some call me disloyal, I just like to think of myself as a sports polygamist.
August 18, 2009 at 2:59 PMBut the point is....you're not an A-hole. That's really what this comes down to. Also, you're not a front runner. And you have familial ties. You're in the clear Langston.
August 18, 2009 at 4:09 PMahhhh...I remember so vividly the fan who rooted for the Cowboys, the Bulls, the Yankees, and Duke basketball....and our RA who rooted for Dallas, Chicago (I think), and Kentucky basketball, and Nebraska football....Explain that one, Q.
August 19, 2009 at 12:49 PMSpeaking of front runners, I think some blame has to go to Starter jackets.
August 19, 2009 at 12:57 PMThat would be an awesome discussion...Pros and Cons of the Starter jacket fad at elementary schools during the 1990's
August 19, 2009 at 1:03 PMLet us also not forget the Starter Cap....the little brother of the Jacket. For those of us who were not allowed the colorful bounty of an actual jacket.
August 20, 2009 at 3:13 AMYeah, I never had the jacket. I just had a bright puffy coat that from a distance looked like a starter jacket, but, when one got close, they would realize I was wearing bright purple, neon yellow, turquoise, and black for just the hell of it.
August 20, 2009 at 10:44 AMYes...and I might have had a trashy Philadelphia Eagles hat at the time because I went through a brief period in life where I was obsessed with Randall Cunningham...it was a very brief period
August 20, 2009 at 8:21 PMBrief period or not, there is no excuse to root for the Iggles.
August 21, 2009 at 9:53 AMIt was in like kindergarten/1st grade. I feel like there's a period in every kid's life where they don't quite grasp fandom, geography, and parental influence.
August 21, 2009 at 10:40 AMYeah sorry, I always forget to use JK when commenting.
August 21, 2009 at 11:34 AM/dick joke
I was a big WNBA fan about three years ago. Nearly killed my social life.
August 21, 2009 at 12:34 PMI once took a girl to a WNBA game. It was like our third or fourth date. I asked her out again, and she said no. I still blame the Washington Mystics.
August 21, 2009 at 3:28 PMI'm guessing those Mystics tickets were free, right?
August 21, 2009 at 4:08 PMI'm betting they came free with a Washington Post.
August 21, 2009 at 4:35 PMThey were free. Someone gave them to my Dad because they themselves did not want to attend the game, and Iceman WNBA tickets come in the mail with the Safeway coupons.
August 21, 2009 at 5:27 PMPost a Comment