As I'm sure I've written before, a large part growing into adulting for me has been learning to operate at a certain emotional distance from UNC basketball. When we win, I can be happy. When we lose, I don't let it bother me.
This has allowed me to stay largely functional over the years through some trying years, but it also lays me open to claims of being a fair-weather fan. Such is life.
Last night, a small group of Tar Heels logged gruelling minutes due to a shallow bench and braved foul trouble and an absurd number of turnovers in which we just threw the ball right into the hands of Blue Devils. No matter. We prevailed and had the great joy of sending Coach K packing not once but twice in the space of weeks.
Even better, I was able to bring Graham, in the throes of deciding between UNC and maybe Lafayette or perhaps even Case Western Reserve (though he's never been to Cleveland and there are no kin nearby, he has left it on his list because it's "prestigious", sigh) up to watch the game. Graham has watched UNC games with me before and once with a friend at a pizza place, but the enthusiasm has never really taken in an enduring way.
Last night he seemed to kind of enjoy the enthusiasm, and then we walked from Alan Haig's new Franklin St pied-a-terre up to the temporary center of the universe at Franklin and Columbia. He is not fully immersed in the whole thing, but he has seen it and not rejected it, so it's not all bad.
As for me, I am still caught up in the excitement of it all. How could I not be?
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