xtcian

jump around

3/8/09

In "Manhattan", a party guest tells Woody Allen she might have had the "wrong kind of orgasm", and Woody responds "I've never had the wrong kind. My worst one was right on the money." Such can be said about seeing Carolina beat Dook in person at the Dean Dome, regardless of the seats you may have - I had the worst seats in the venue, and they were still right on the money, baby!

Here's the view from Row Y, with my back against the wall, able to put my hands on the actual ceiling of the Dean Dome, with the obstructed view from the Jumbotron:

I was surrounded by a donut of aging Dook fans, nobody to commiserate with, leaping up in joy while everyone around me sat glumly, but you know what? STILL AWESOMELY FANTASTIC. Coach Comfort scored me the hardest tickets to get, perhaps in Carolina history, and that's all that mattered. Besides, with a few minutes left, the Dookies all shuffled out, leaving me with the entire top of Section 229 to myself:

Besides the game itself, which was not an effortless ballet by any stretch but still soul-divining, the real revelation was the window we got inside Tyler Hansbrough. Senior speeches can be a bit of a drag (the Christian exultations can be a little much for your narrator, Agnostic H. McNonBelieverPants) but I'm so happy I stayed to see the guys off.

Tyler H. has never been one for words, and his post-game interviews can be frustratingly terse, rife with the kind of platitudes Crash Davis taught Nuke LaLoosh in "Bull Durham". Like I said, his blank expression during games and his huge eyes and body make him the perfect protagonist for Lucy, someone upon which she can project whatever she wishes. As adults and fans, we occasionally wish for more.

Tonight, barely four sentences into his speech, he broke down into silent sobs. When his two brothers stood up, and he tried to thank his parents standing on either side of them, I finally understood: Tyler is not a robot. He's a 22-year-old kid who went through his brother having brain cancer and a horrifying operation, his parents divorcing, and getting to college in time to have his nose broken and finally, a concussion. Instead of being a rage-fueled mess, he has internalized everything and devoted himself to being absolutely fantastic - and fanatic - at one thing.

And it's not like he was born with some preternatural skill other than height - of all our stars, he is by far the most self-made. I think this is why he is so adored by the fans; they can relate to him, they can imagine having that singular drive in their own careers, even if they have nothing to do with basketball. And like the rest of us, when presented with the magnitude of our lives and the profundity of our inspirations, even Tyler Hansbrough can finally be overwhelmed.