LUCAS: THE TEARS...
NEW ORLEANS—The tears.
That is what I hope I never, ever forget about tonight.
When the final buzzer sounded on Carolina's 81-77 win over Duke in the Superdome, there was so much cheering and yelling and screaming. But there was something else, something I have never seen at any Carolina basketball game ever:
There were tears. So many tears. Not on the court, not like in 2017 when the Tar Heels completed the redemption tour. But in the stands. I saw eleven year olds crying and I saw 80 year olds crying and I saw 45 year olds crying. This wasn't an isolated person crying. This was a full one-fourth of the Superdome letting it flow. A friend texted me from section 140: "My whole section is crying."
It was just…too much. The human body isn't designed to handle waiting a full week for a Carolina-Duke game in the Final Four as part of an incredible run to the national semifinals in what could be—no, in what was—Mike Krzyzewski's last game as the Blue Devil head coach.
We are not equipped to process this. At a certain point, the brain just can't take anymore and…tears.
How many times in your life have you cried from sheer joy? Carolina Basketball did that on Saturday night. It is only a game to some people but they are just really missing out, because the immediate aftermath of Saturday night's win was absolutely one of the most exhilarating hours of my life. I hugged the love of my life and I hugged my kids and I hugged complete strangers and I hugged BDaht and if I could have gotten to the Governor, I would have hugged him, too, shortly before security would have escorted me away.
I know you are here to read about the game, but I have sat here and I have watched the reaction videos from all over the world, from Franklin Street and from the Smith Center and from a home in Raleigh and our friends in Pennsylvania and a friend with his son in the Superdome stands. Different people from all over the Tar Heel nation but absolutely every single one has one thing in common: complete, unadulterated joy.
We felt it, too. Lean in close so I can reveal a professional secret. The Tar Heel Sports Network was right there on the front row, directly across from the Carolina bench. In a call that we will be hearing for roughly the next 50 years, Jones Angell says, "Caleb from straight away!"
And then you hear Eric Montross laughing, and he says, "Come on!"
Just between you and me, I need to admit something right now. There is a slight possibility that Eric couldn't say any other words because I was pounding him on the back, right there on press row. You have heard of the Bloody Montross game. This was the Bruised Montross game.
I regret nothing.
We are going to be telling the stories of what we did and who we were with and how we celebrated this night for the rest of our lives. It was all so fantastically perfect. The win in Cameron, that was perfect. This win, it was perfect. It is like picking between your children.
Can't we have both? Well, actually we can.
Duke made Saturday even sweeter because they played all the hits. They even slapped the floor, bringing one back from the 1990's archives. Do we have the complete set now? We have a Carolina win in front of every single one of Duke's greatest players ever--all wearing shirts with a giant K on them even though it is not about him--and while the Devils slap the floor and twice in a season in which a documentary film crew was following the Blue Devils (I would like to place an order for that film on DVD, VHS, Beta, filmstrip and Viewmaster). The only way it could pain Duke more is if Cascada calls to ask for their song back.
Hubert Davis said he wanted this team to have experiences. We misunderstood you, Coach. You could have warned us that you intended for them to have all the experiences in less than a month.
This last month has been perhaps the most amazing month in the history of Carolina basketball…and that is before the Tar Heels play for the national championship on Monday night. Brady Manek ran out on the Superdome court on Saturday night and instantly his eyes went to Antawn Jamison and Jerry Stackhouse, two of the dozens of Tar Heel lettermen in attendance. A thought immediately hit him: "That's going to be me when I come back to Carolina games."
This was painted as the most important game in the rivalry for both sides. But I will never, ever believe Duke feels it the way we do. For many of us this is something we live beginning at birth, but for many of them it was acquired after moving from somewhere else and sleeping in a tent. There is a connection between individual and team that is made in those pre-college years that can't be replicated, and no amount of reading off a cheer sheet can duplicate it.
That's why all those hugs and all those tears were so special on Saturday night. You know how it goes: this is, as it was meant to be, the University of the people. We come to Chapel Hill from all 100 counties and the 49 other states and countries around the world and leave a changed person.
A whole new generation of Carolina fans was made on Saturday night. There are now elementary school kids who stayed up late to watch the game or who maybe even made the trip to New Orleans who will never even consider going anywhere other than the University of North Carolina, because they remember one magical season with Caleb and RJ and Brady and Mando and Leaky, and because being a Tar Heel is just part of who they are, like their eye color.
Back to the Superdome. There was one more person I wanted to see after Saturday's game. This was around 30 minutes after the game, or around the time that the Superdome usher in front of section 141 was saying, "Y'all have the best fans in the world, but it's time to go home."
Roy Williams was about ten rows back, and yes he absolutely was wearing that sweater because that thing is one game from being enshrined in the Carolina Basketball Museum. He was taking pictures and smiling and laughing.
And then he was hugging, and he got this part out—"HOW BOUT THEM…" and then he trailed off.
He looked at you, and the tears were spilling out of his eyes, and there was absolutely nothing left to do on this night but wrap him in a hug. Oh, and finish his statement.
"…TAR HEELS!"
NEW ORLEANS—The tears.
That is what I hope I never, ever forget about tonight.
When the final buzzer sounded on Carolina's 81-77 win over Duke in the Superdome, there was so much cheering and yelling and screaming. But there was something else, something I have never seen at any Carolina basketball game ever:
There were tears. So many tears. Not on the court, not like in 2017 when the Tar Heels completed the redemption tour. But in the stands. I saw eleven year olds crying and I saw 80 year olds crying and I saw 45 year olds crying. This wasn't an isolated person crying. This was a full one-fourth of the Superdome letting it flow. A friend texted me from section 140: "My whole section is crying."
It was just…too much. The human body isn't designed to handle waiting a full week for a Carolina-Duke game in the Final Four as part of an incredible run to the national semifinals in what could be—no, in what was—Mike Krzyzewski's last game as the Blue Devil head coach.
We are not equipped to process this. At a certain point, the brain just can't take anymore and…tears.
How many times in your life have you cried from sheer joy? Carolina Basketball did that on Saturday night. It is only a game to some people but they are just really missing out, because the immediate aftermath of Saturday night's win was absolutely one of the most exhilarating hours of my life. I hugged the love of my life and I hugged my kids and I hugged complete strangers and I hugged BDaht and if I could have gotten to the Governor, I would have hugged him, too, shortly before security would have escorted me away.
I know you are here to read about the game, but I have sat here and I have watched the reaction videos from all over the world, from Franklin Street and from the Smith Center and from a home in Raleigh and our friends in Pennsylvania and a friend with his son in the Superdome stands. Different people from all over the Tar Heel nation but absolutely every single one has one thing in common: complete, unadulterated joy.
We felt it, too. Lean in close so I can reveal a professional secret. The Tar Heel Sports Network was right there on the front row, directly across from the Carolina bench. In a call that we will be hearing for roughly the next 50 years, Jones Angell says, "Caleb from straight away!"
And then you hear Eric Montross laughing, and he says, "Come on!"
Just between you and me, I need to admit something right now. There is a slight possibility that Eric couldn't say any other words because I was pounding him on the back, right there on press row. You have heard of the Bloody Montross game. This was the Bruised Montross game.
I regret nothing.
We are going to be telling the stories of what we did and who we were with and how we celebrated this night for the rest of our lives. It was all so fantastically perfect. The win in Cameron, that was perfect. This win, it was perfect. It is like picking between your children.
Can't we have both? Well, actually we can.
Duke made Saturday even sweeter because they played all the hits. They even slapped the floor, bringing one back from the 1990's archives. Do we have the complete set now? We have a Carolina win in front of every single one of Duke's greatest players ever--all wearing shirts with a giant K on them even though it is not about him--and while the Devils slap the floor and twice in a season in which a documentary film crew was following the Blue Devils (I would like to place an order for that film on DVD, VHS, Beta, filmstrip and Viewmaster). The only way it could pain Duke more is if Cascada calls to ask for their song back.
Hubert Davis said he wanted this team to have experiences. We misunderstood you, Coach. You could have warned us that you intended for them to have all the experiences in less than a month.
This last month has been perhaps the most amazing month in the history of Carolina basketball…and that is before the Tar Heels play for the national championship on Monday night. Brady Manek ran out on the Superdome court on Saturday night and instantly his eyes went to Antawn Jamison and Jerry Stackhouse, two of the dozens of Tar Heel lettermen in attendance. A thought immediately hit him: "That's going to be me when I come back to Carolina games."
This was painted as the most important game in the rivalry for both sides. But I will never, ever believe Duke feels it the way we do. For many of us this is something we live beginning at birth, but for many of them it was acquired after moving from somewhere else and sleeping in a tent. There is a connection between individual and team that is made in those pre-college years that can't be replicated, and no amount of reading off a cheer sheet can duplicate it.
That's why all those hugs and all those tears were so special on Saturday night. You know how it goes: this is, as it was meant to be, the University of the people. We come to Chapel Hill from all 100 counties and the 49 other states and countries around the world and leave a changed person.
A whole new generation of Carolina fans was made on Saturday night. There are now elementary school kids who stayed up late to watch the game or who maybe even made the trip to New Orleans who will never even consider going anywhere other than the University of North Carolina, because they remember one magical season with Caleb and RJ and Brady and Mando and Leaky, and because being a Tar Heel is just part of who they are, like their eye color.
Back to the Superdome. There was one more person I wanted to see after Saturday's game. This was around 30 minutes after the game, or around the time that the Superdome usher in front of section 141 was saying, "Y'all have the best fans in the world, but it's time to go home."
Roy Williams was about ten rows back, and yes he absolutely was wearing that sweater because that thing is one game from being enshrined in the Carolina Basketball Museum. He was taking pictures and smiling and laughing.
And then he was hugging, and he got this part out—"HOW BOUT THEM…" and then he trailed off.
He looked at you, and the tears were spilling out of his eyes, and there was absolutely nothing left to do on this night but wrap him in a hug. Oh, and finish his statement.
"…TAR HEELS!"
