February 10, 2010
chicken egg and cheese
2/10/10
First off, a thank you to Andrew Dunn, Kevin Schwartz and the excellent folk at the DTH for honoring me every year with the old chestnut "Why I Hate Dook" column (they also printed another one from 2007). I have been around this great big world of ours and work daily in the dream factory of crazy fame, and yet, why does having both of the most-read articles at Carolina today fill me with so much more joy?
I swear, we'll get a hit show on the air, and my definition of success will be coming back to the DTH and writing about how we got a hit show on the air.
As I've oft-yawped before, this was my 25th home dook game in a row, and of all the Herculean journeys I've taken to get here on time, this may be the most Herculeanest. The fight from LAX to Charlotte was fine for the first 98%, but when we tried to land, the wind blasts were so bad that we had to retract the landing gear and try again. When we finally hit the ground - hard - the entire plane applauded.
But the flight from Charlotte to RDU? I know I can tend to be somewhat of a superlatist on here, but this was the kind of flight when people start re-writing their wills. It was only 25 minutes long (with a furious tailwind) but the landing was out of a sci-fi thriller. On our initial approach, the plane was blown three football fields off course just before we touched down, and AGAIN, there was an abort. Wheels up, thrusters on, people in the cabin weeping, screaming and laughing.
Detailing bad flights - like dreams - is always a terrific bore, so I'll just skip to the 2nd landing attempt, when the left wing blew up so high that I thought the right wing was dragging on the ground. When the brakes came on, and the plane righted itself, there were cheers and roaring applause.
Strangers hugged, people were crying, many looked upwards to their God with thanks, entire rows started telling jokes, and the two guys next to my friend Jim barfed all over their motion sickness bags. The silent army recruit next to me - just finished with basic training - quietly said "It all kinda makes you think how insignificant we all are."
I felt terrible for the kid, having his first true existential realization. I wanted to say "you are now one of us, my friend", but instead just smiled.
Because here's the thing: as some of you old-timers might remember, I had a decade when I was paralyzed by the fear of flying. I used to dread vacations because two weeks ahead of time, I'd be worrying about the plane that would take us there. I was a miserable wreck, and it grounded me for years.
But these last two flights? I actually enjoyed them - I wanted them to be even worse, so I could tell myself that I was really... for lack of a better word, "better". I had my headphones on, listening to symphonic pop music, lunging through the clouds, and all I could think was "I have a good life. And this is truly beautiful." While others were vomiting and yelling, I was at peace, and you know me, I've NEVER been that guy before.
Something about the day Lucy came changed me. Yes, and the drugs and therapy, but it was really that moment.
As for the game, what can you say? We were due for it. The same thing happened that happens every game this season, it just happened a little bit later than usual. Much later on, I found myself walking alone on Cameron Avenue, staring into the frigid midnight North Carolina sky. It reminded me of doing the same thing 25 years ago when it was all still mysterious, all ancient rituals, all friends I was yet to make and girls I was yet to understand. Seeing old friends and getting that old feeling back is worth the trip.
Oh, and this, of course:
her boyfriend took the picture, so you can't see that the dress ends 1/4-inch below her hoodlie-hah
Good to see you in the flesh (albeit briefly) last night, Ian. Tough loss, but there were signs of encouragement I thought.
Like all of us, the Heels just need to keep fighting the good fight.
You are looking good, my friend! Your new friend is cute . . . wondering whether she was born before or after 1990 - the year I graduated Carolina! Technically, I am old enough to be that child's mama! Hummph.
Twice now I've tried to tilt my laptop screen to pan down and see the rest of the picture. Why, pray tell, did you not get one of YOUR friends to take the picture? Have you no wing men? DFB's & T's and Zel M. would have never taken such an incomplete shot of me if we were out and met that same young lady. Hell, I wouldn't even be in the picture.
What bar/s did you go to?
Where'd you eat?
Need more nostalgia...
Let me confess up front that I am a Dukie, but (I think) a fairly reasonable one if there can be such a thing.
I generally have great respect for Carolina (hence the anonymous posting), but was very disappointed in Coach Williams' comment below.
Interested in your reaction.
"Our massage therapist told me, she said ‘You know, Coach, what happened in Haiti is a catastrophe. What you’re having is a disappointment.’ And I told her that depends on which chair she was sitting in, because it does feel like a catastrophe to me, and that’s because it is my life."
Lurker, I read the story that you reference. Coincidentially, Ian said a similar thing last week. Basically, we all have our crosses to bear. It feels like a catastrophe to Coach Williams because it's HIS LIFE. Would you dismiss your best friends broken heart and tell him or her to get over the ex-significant other because you thought the person was a jerk? Who are we to judge someone else's feelings?
The headline that Coach Williams was comparing the losses to the Haiti earthquake was simply untrue; he didn't make that analogy. He was referencing the word catastrophe in his own life. Another non-story which will be blown way out of proportion.
for Lurker
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlHs7Bd4r-A
That is all.
Clearly that young lady doesn't have to worry about her Valentine's Day being lonely in Chapel Hill:
I don't think Roy deserves to be dragged through the coals for it -- but it was an asinine thing to say and he should apologize.
UNC's basketball woes are insignificant compared to the loss of human life and destruction in Haiti. Maybe Roy and the boys should go down there and help rebuild in the off-season.
Not in the same league, but I was also put off by this comment Roy made before Psycho T's jersey was retired: "Roy Williams was a better coach because of this young man," Williams said.
Eek! Referring to oneself in the third person is just gross, cult-de-moi stuff. Can't recall Dean Smith ever doing that. Suck it up, Roy! The team needs teaching and leadership, not narcissism.
Let me make my crude comment for the day: I would like to hoist that girl's jersey into rafters.
There. I said it. Let's move on.
HeelsFan:
Not to quibble, especially because Anon dislikes referring to oneself in the third person as much as the next guy, but the comment from Roy (about Tyler making him a better coach) was anything but narcissitic.
Methinks he pretty clearly meant it as self-deprecation: Tyler's play made Roy SEEM like a better coach than he actually is.
Strong work making new friends in Chapel Hill, Ian. Comforting to be reminded that at least somebody is rockin' it a Carolina blue jersey this winter!
Memories, like the colors of my mind, misty sky-blue colored memories of the way we were:
Anon, obviously he intended it that way.
But consider the context:
"It was a great thrill for me to coach this young man, one of the most focused and driven young men I’ve ever known in my life", Williams said at halftime, before going into the locker room to coach his team. "It’s a thrill for me to look up there and see him on the front row of the rafters. Roy Williams was a better coach because of this young man. Even more important, so important in my life, is what he taught me. It was a pleasure, son."
Notice, he refers to Tyler twice and to himself four times (fortunately only once in the third person). My problem is that Roy Williams seems to want the focus to be on Roy Williams.
I'd also like to know who he's met that's more focused and driven than Psycho T.