TAR HEELS!

Futility: Knowing that a freshman is handing you your ass, in your last game, in front of your parents, and that there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. - Some Brilliant Person

I am faced with immense trepidation about whether or not to post this, yet alone write this, considering that we may face our sworn enemies yet again if they defeat Wake and if we overcome Boston College. I seriously doubt I can single-handedly jinx the outcome of the ACC Tournament. Let's hope I am correct!

OK...time travel back to Thursday, March 2. I am waiting to board our plane to Vegas. My ears are suddenly filled with the most horrendous noise known to man: the sound of a Duke fan. He was commiserating with another fool who was making a feeble attempt to show that his blood runs dook blue by donning a hat and sweatshirt with the "D-word" emblazoned upon it although they had just lost to Florida State. The loudmouth, henceforth referred to as Jackass, was trying to console Mr. Fashion Statement (the kid w/the hat & sweatshirt) by assuring him that the slump would soon end since they were going to beat the Heels on Saturday, especially since they were going to be playing at home and had just come off the loss. Not wanting to cause a scene, but wishing that G.P., the Heels' biggest male fan (can't give him the full title....my friend Carolina would strangle me as she is the biggest female fan), was there to dish out all the smack he could. I love the Heels, but I have not committed all the stats and games to memory as G.P. and Carolina have. Perhaps I would have been more apt to loudly verbalize the thoughts that I was mumbling under my breath to Ethel if we weren't waiting to board a plane....the scene playing in my head had me lashing out at Jackass in such a way that would illicit a response from airport security, ultimately leading to me not being allowed to board. Couldn't have that. "Oh...and it's not like the Heels didn't just kick Virginia's asses 99-54 and are pumped to kick Duke's next." ARRRG! Jackass!

Ethel and I flew Southwest to Vegas. Seats are not assigned. Rather, when you confirm, you are given a letter: A, B, or C. This determines when you can board the plane. On the trip out we were in the B line....of course Jackass was in the A line. I bet he camped out in a tent just to get it like those freaks at Duke in "Shuchefski Shanty". As we boarded, Ethel was in the lead. She turned around and said, "We'll just take the first two seats together, ok?" To our horror, you can easily guess who had the first two seats available....Jackass! After exchanging looks of disgust, Ethel and I trudged further down the aisle. No way in hell were we going to sit next to Jackass for five and a half hours! Of course neither of us were shocked that the loser was alone!
We ended up taking two seats on the opposite side of the plane. Jackass ended up depriving us of seeing the best sights of the trip. We lived out the Paula Poundstone routine except we were the people on the left side of the plane hating the people on the right side of the plane because we did not get to see the Grand Canyon or the Rocky Mountains. I thought it was so convenient that all of these magnificent natural masterpieces abruptly ended beneath our plane, just so we couldn't see them! Jackass!

Fast forward to Saturday night. It is after 5. The game began at 6 just as the betting opportunity ended. We had been glancing over at the sports area of the casino throughout our stay toying with the idea of betting on the game. There was absolutely no way we could bet against our boys. How much could we wager comfortably? Talk began at $5. On Friday we had even ventured into the area to get the dude in the ref uniform to explain the chart to us. I am sure he had a good chuckle at our expense due to our naive knowledge of gambling as well as our accents....I don't hear me talking with a Southern accent, but it seems that the rest of the world hears me that way. We had our own chuckle at his expense. Having to wear that ridiculous ref shirt while working behind the counter at the sports betting area was pretty hilarious to me. Prior to leaving our room to go place the bet, I called G.P. in Atlanta. He was at his favorite place...the Cheyenne Grill (which he proudly displayed to us a yr. ago when we were in town for Carolina's wedding- It is a Tar Heel paradise!). In one of his many appreciated emails he had referred to his newborn son as the Golden Child because the Heels had not lost since the birth of his son. I told him that he had better rub that baby or perform whatever ritual he had concocted in order to produce the win since Ethel and I were in Vegas getting ready to place a bet on the Heels to win.

We made our way downstairs and Ethel strolled up to the counter exuding confidence like I had never seen. She owned the place! She slapped a twenty down on the counter and told Dorky Ref Guy, "Twenty on Carolina." The board showed that Duke was favored to win by 7. Dorky Ref Guy retorted, "You must be a fan." Then he explained that if Duke won, but did not win by 7, we would get our money back. Since the first encounter had left us behind by only 2, we did not think losing our money was likely, but as first time gamblers, we weren't willing to plunk down anything more. I hadn't planned to bet twenty; my type A personality couldn't handle the possibility of throwing away twenty bucks....heck, I got stressed playing the slots! Thanks to Ethel and the Dorky Ref Guy, I forked over my twenty. There was no way I could only put a five dollar bet after Ethel had been obviously mocked by the Dorky Ref Guy for betting twenty on the Heels. The ticket that I was given in return showed that with a $20 bet, I would get $38.20 for a Tar Heel victory. Not much, but almost double. PLUS, every true Tar Heel knows that victory over Duke is reward enough!!!!!!!!!!

We watched the 1st half of the game in our room. It was thrilling....the gambling enhanced our thirst for victory! At half time we went to the photography banquet. Ethel's son sent us text messages during the banquet citing the score at different intervals. Another dude at our table was receiving them, too. He did not share in our excitement, leading us to believe that he must have been a dookie. The cool people at the table, yes - Ethel and I included, along with the people at the next table over celebrated with every report, sick that we couldn't watch the Heels kick Duke's butt on Senior Night! Losing to us on their home court on Senior Night. PRICELESS!

We never saw the Dorky Ref Guy to rub it in his face that it pays to be a Carolina fan. I was primed for the possibility of seeing Jackass again on our return flight. I was decked out in my Carolina shirt that has a black and white photo on the back containing a darling little boy seated between two little girls: one wearing a Duke shirt and another wearing a Carolina shirt. Naturally he is kissing the adorable girl in the Carolina shirt while turning his back on the dook dog. The slogan reads: "You picked the right one, baby!" I also had my oversized Carolina sweatshirt. I waited and waited for Jackass to show up, but as would be expected by a Duke fan, he let me down. As I waited at the back of the plane to enter the bath-closet (no way is it large enough to be called a bathROOM), one of the flight attendants looked at me and over her knitting asked, "Are you wearing that because you went to school there or because Carolina beat Duke last night?" With a large, toothy grin and an abuncance of pride emanating forth, I answered, "Both." As I have seen in many emails since, I echo the quote, "God Bless those Tar Heel boys." Not only did they earn me $18.20 and bragging rights to winning in Vegas, they also provided a wonderful memory and a reason to blog! What could be better?! Is winning the ACC Tournament too much to ask?