Growing up, I always liked playing basketball. Truthfully, it was mostly because my brother liked to play it. Whatever he was into, I wanted to be into. I know that it was grating on him at times, especially given that I was just too young in our formative years to do many things together, but just close enough to where we could still be interesting in most of the same things. For this reason, we always ended up "shooting hoops" together. And for the record, I hate that phrase... I'm not sure why, I just do. It's just basketball to me. Hoops make me think of earrings or hulas. I'm getting off my point.At a certain point when I was younger, I came of the age where I wanted to get a hat. Sure, I already had my infamous Toronto Blue Jays hat when I was a little boy, but this was when I was about twelve or thirteen. This was serious. So one Saturday or Sunday, when we were all at the mall, John went with me to Champs Sports and we looked at the wall of hats for various college basketball teams. I was enamored with the colors... but I knew absolutely nothing about college basketball. The extent of my basketball knowledge extended to the fact that I needed to shoot the ball from way outside to have a chance at beating my brother, and pray that he missed a ton of shots in the meantime. Therefore, when I decided that I liked the light blue and dark blue colors of North Carolina the best, he just laughed and said that it was a good choice, that they were actually a good team. It was a Nike hat: Carolina blue cap with a dark navy blue bill and swoosh in the front, "North Carolina" underneath the bill. As we were checking out, he leaned against the counter with that smug look of his, you know the one, where he has something he's been waiting to say and can barely hide the hint of the smile that's getting away from him:
"You know that's Duke big rival, right?"
No, John, I didn't know that. I forgot to mention something. While most of my basketball knowledge extended to how I should play against my brother on the hard court outside our house, the rest of said knowledge extended to the fact that my brother liked one team and one team only: Duke. To this day, it's the only team that I can safely say he really likes. I couldn't tell you who he pulls for in football (college or NFL), NBA, MLB, anything. All I knew then and know now is that he likes Duke. For the next few years before he went off to Palm Beach Atlantic for college, we always had somewhat of an annual rivalry with Duke and UNC. This was in the late '90s, of course, so it meant that UNC was getting the best of Duke nearly every year, especially the year in which Antawn Jamison, Vince Carter, Shammond Williams, Brendon Haywood and Co. were crushing Duke 2-3 times a year. I say "and Co." because I don't want to give the disgrace that is Makhtar N'diaye the distinction of having any part in that '98 UNC squad that nearly won the national championship. And I say "nearly" because "and Co." was the one that "effed it up" in the Final Four. That's a story for a different day. I don't want to make myself upset.
I still follow UNC to this day. In the time that I've decided that I'm a fan, I've seen the Tarheels win two national championships, both in the past five years, and go to six Final Fours. Now, when I transferred to Florida State my sophomore year of college, this allegiance took on a slightly slanted view. I still liked UNC, I always had. But now... now I had a college team all my own, one that I could actually go see in person and wear the home colors, knowing that I was a part of it. I followed FSU basketball here and there my first year, but it wasn't until I noticed that UNC was coming to town that I decided to actually go in person. This game just so happened to coincide with John coming up to Tallahassee to help me move apartments the next day, so I got the two of us tickets along with Earnhardt and his friend Josh, the four of us sitting on the second row right behind one of the baskets.
By halftime, the Seminoles were down by 26 points. We were unranked, and UNC was the #2 team in the country, so it wasn't exactly a surprise. I felt a little torn on the inside, wanting my home team to do well, but at the same time, I wanted UNC to do their best as well. What was a surprise was the next twenty minutes after the half, because that's where the Noles stormed all the way back, tied the game in the last few moments, denied UNC the game-winning shot to send it into overtime, and then decisively rolled the Heels in the bonus period. The entire Donald T. Tucker Tallahassee-Leon County Civic Center (or DLTTLCCC for short) was rocking. We stormed the court, jumped on the players, and I still have the picture from the Tallahassee Democrat from the next day's front page, having circled myself, my brother, Earnhardt, and Josh in the sea of faces on the court. That signaled the rest inception of my fanhood for FSU basketball. From that point on, I've been hooked. We finally made it to the tournament last year for the first time since I've been following the team, and this year looks like even better odds to get into the field.
I already remember players like Al Thornton and Tim Pickett and Toney Douglas. Soon, I'll have Solomon Alibi and Chris Singleton filling my mind with memories. Tonight, the boys in garnet and gold have gone up to Durham to take on my brother's vaunted #7 Duke Blue Devils. At the time of this writing, my unranked Noles are still hanging around, hoping for a big upset on the road while Duke hasn't been beaten at home all year. For this Whatever Wednesday, that's what on my mind. A little story, a little sports, and a heaping helping of what's running through my head. Enjoy.
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