5 days removed from Duke and 10 days to go

There are so many reasons why the 237th meeting of North Carolina and Duke was such a different game. But it all starts with the students of this university and what that game meant to them.

If you look back on my last post concerning the Dook game, you’ll see that the anger and hatred of the students and fans was through the roof after having to wait 8 days to beat the Blue Devils.

But with the anger came the loudest Dean E. Smith Center I have ever been a part of. There were moments when you were too excited to make a sound, and there were moments when you couldn’t hear the person next to you talking. I was lucky enough to be seated just ten rows behind the student risers. I had an aisle seat, but in all reality, that just means I stood in the aisle the entire game. I might’ve gone to the game with a few friends in tow, but by the end of that game, it didn’t even matter who was there. What mattered is that we had just beaten Duke, at home, and I was able to be a small part of it.

Prior to the game, I lined up in a line that curved around two corners of the Dean Dome and waited. Much like many other students at UNC, we lined up four hours before tip-off. And it was a beautiful day. Compared to eight days before when the security team had to enter the Phase 1 students into the Natatorium so that they wouldn’t get sick, I was wearing shorts. Quite literally jorts.

The first layer of excitement came when students came pouring in, and it didn’t matter if you had seen them yesterday or hadn’t seen them since you first met at C-Tops freshman year- but you said hello. You might’ve hugged because your love for this basketball team was automatically translated into your love for that one person.

Next came the managers. It was a simple moment, but for me, it made the game feel real. My dear friend, Mary Ellen, came out to simply see everyone. She wanted to be a part of the crowd and see everyone lining up for what was most likely to be our last Duke home game (assuming most of those in line were seniors). And you could see the excitement in her eyes. It was almost like getting to feel the nerves and all the prep of the players through one hug. I already knew we were going to win, but that was a moment when I really got confident.

And then they were letting the students into the Dean Dome. Four doors were opened, and all you could hope for is one of the faster ticket scanners so you could get just one row closer to the court. Leaving some of my friends behind, who, for only God knows what reason, decided to sit behind the Duke bench rather than the basket, I sped walked towards the seats. Even with the personnel telling me to slow down- it was the Duke game and there’s no way i’m going to calmly walk to my seats and let all of the other students beat me to it. We ended up behind the press seats on the first row. But I was not about to feel bad for screaming in their ears. So we moved and took the 10th row right aisle seat. Perfectly placed with a view of the far basket and the one directly in front of us.

The game was a blur. We screamed, we jumped, we hugged. There were times when I saw the winning team shine through. And then those threes came flying in, and every Tar Heel in that building felt the pain. There was the Duke team we all feared. But coming through that was a never ending determination. The Heels never let up. They knew they could do it, they just had to stick it out and dig in their Heels.

With 48 seconds left I didn’t want to be too sure. I remember that Austin Rivers shot- ruining my sophomore year. I remember tying my shoes to run to Franklin Street, but instead sinking into the couch in shock. And I didn’t want that feeling again. So, I waited. I waited until the seconds were counting down and there was no possible way Duke could win. I waited for that moment to let the sheer joy take over me.

And when it happened, it was a rush. Students came from every direction. Despite the directions not to storm the court, security let them through with high fives and smiles. I screamed and jumped and hugged just like I had throughout the game. But now it was different. We finally had won. My first win against Duke while I was in Chapel Hill. I watched as the court turned into a party. Thousands turned down for nothing. Everyone jumped around. And when it came down to it- we joined arms with every student around to sing the alma mater. Never before has “Go to Hell Duke” felt so good.

And then we ran. Out of the Dean Dome, into a crowd of happy fans. It was a combination of running and walking the path from South Campus to Franklin Street, but we made it- saying ‘safe travels’ to the Duke Families that surrounded us. I was exhausted. My calves burned, but we reached a Franklin Street that didn’t seem as crowded as I expected. But soon came the crowd. I figured the only way to reach the center of the fire circles was to provide my own fuel. Grabbing several old copies to the day’s DTH, I raised them over my head and proceeded to weasel through the crowd. I jumped three times. I sat on my friend’s shoulders. I experienced Franklin Street after beating the Blue Devils.

Then we left. Beer was absolutely calling my name- of course the natural decision was to go to He’s Not. The evening was spent hugging friends, singing the Alma Mater at random times, with the ever intensified “Go to Hell Duke”, and chanting ‘Tar’ and ‘Heels’ across the bar. There were fans young and old. Everyone together in Carolina Blue. Everyone happy about the same 40 minutes of great Tar Heel basketball.

So here we are. Just 10 days away from playing Duke at Cameron Indoor. And the game has a completely different feel. There hasn’t been any hype up until this point. Students are more concentrated on getting through midterms, the last home basketball game, and getting to Spring Break. But lest we not forget that our Spring Break starts with a 9:00 p.m., 238th meeting of North Carolina and Duke. And don’t worry Dukies- we’ll make the drive. Not just for you, but for all of the fans that are relying on another great victory.

We’ll make the drive because we’re not afraid of the challenge. We’ll make the drive because we’d like to beat you on your home court too.