Yes, I know Christmas lays claim to that sentiment, but for me March fits the bill. Why? March Madness!
I’ve been a college basketball fan for as long as I can remember. I went to college in North Carolina, which introduced me to the ACC. Even if you didn’t go to an ACC school, you were required to choose a team in that conference to root for. Mine was North Carolina State during the David Thompson era. NC State won the NCAA Tournament in 1974 by taking down the Bill Walton-led UCLA Bruins in the semis and then dismantling Marquette in the final game. I hold out hope that during my annual Medicare test I will be asked to name the Wolfpack’s starting lineup, because I can still do it: David Thompson, Tommy Burleson, Monty Towe, Phil Spence and Tim Stoddard (and no, I did not consult the internet).
I later became a Duke fan via my son, Charlie. The game in which Christian Laettner made that last nano-second basket to beat Kentucky will always be on playback in my head. Charlie loved Grant Hill and bought every T-shirt and jersey that bore his name, number or image. Whenever Detroit (Hill’s first NBA team) played in Philly, we’d go.
When Charlie was 11 or so, he began attending swimming camp at the University of North Carolina. Ah, UNC, once the master of Dean Smith’s despised four-corner offense, a stalling tactic that led to the shot clock. Heck, when UNC went into the four corners, you could do laundry, take a long shower, make dinner or even go out for dinner. When you returned, they’d still be at it.
Anyway, on Charlie’s first trip to Chapel Hill, he asked if we could stop in Durham and go see Cameron Indoor Stadium on Duke’s campus. My sister and I agreed. As we approached the building, some very tall men swooped in and took Charlie inside the building. I was left standing and didn’t know what to do or think. When my sister joined me, we went inside and discovered Charlie and about 30 other kids playing basketball with the Blue Devils in the flesh. Suddenly it was announced that lunch was ready. It turned out Duke held a basketball camp the same week as Carolina hosted the swimming camp (and, as it turned out, a basketball camp at the Dean Dome). The players who spirited Charlie away must have assumed he was there for the camp. We made a getaway and headed for Chapel Hill. (In defense of Duke, I’m sure things are much more buttoned-up now.)
The next year, a friend attended camp with Charlie and again we stopped to worship at the shrine called Cameron. And, again, the boys slipped into the open-gym meet-and-greet and when lunch was announced we made our escape.
The third year, Charlie had another friend along who was also a rabid Duke fan. On this trip we were running late because of heavy traffic. But we were agreeable to stopping so that Matt could see Cameron. First, we hit the bookstore, where the boys bought all kinds of basketball-related stuff. Then, we headed for Cameron.
The place was empty. I spied a man sitting at a table across the court doing paperwork. “Oh, my, gosh,” I said. “Look who that is!!!” it was none other than Mike Krzyzewski, Coach K, sitting all by his lonesome. We tiptoed up to the table and said hi. The boys suddenly got tongue-tied in his presence, so I had to do all the talking. Attempting to break the ice, Coach K began asking them questions. I will always remember how nice he was to them. He signed everything, gave them a pep talk and posed for a picture. Of course, we didn’t tell him where we were headed.
When Duke played Carolina in the semifinals of the NCAA Tournament in 2022, I got a phone call from Charlie, who now lives in North Carolina and has managed to see Duke play away games at Clemson and other schools. He wanted me to come down and watch the historic game. So, I got in the car and drove to North Carolina to watch the game … on television! (For the record, North Carolina won.)
Last year, Charlie got an early Christmas present. He was at Duke doing some shopping at the bookstore and went by Cameron. A man walked up to him and asked if he was Mr. Smith. Charlie said no. The guy looked at his watch and responded, “It looks like I’m being stood up.” He explained he was supposed to give the Smith group a behind-the-scenes tour of the facility. “I’m here,” he said to Charlie. “Do you want to take a tour?” He didn’t have to ask twice. My phone was soon inundated with pictures.
Poor Charlie lives in a house divided. His wife is an avid Carolina fan. God love him, this year he managed to buy tickets for the Carolina-Virginia game in Charlottesville as her birthday present, but unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans for that January weekend and sent a snowstorm that way. As luck would have it, he was able to sell the tickets online.
As for me, I was thrilled to attend last year’s Chamber Dinner that featured Coach K as the keynote speaker. I understand Coach K’s grandson is on F&M’s basketball team and he has been spotted in the stands. Hmmm, I might have to become a Dip’s fan.
Leave a Reply