Every diehard sports fan has a bucket list. While it differs for various individuals, there are a few staples that should be universal among them. One of these has to be a trip to Cameron Indoor Stadium to witness a Duke vs. UNC basketball game, arguably the most intense rivalry in college basketball.
Now, I must confess, I hate Duke. Between the players and the way they carry themselves, Duke basketball is perhaps the most polarizing college sports team in the country. You either despise them fervently, or you steadfastly support them and believe the sun rises in the morning because of Coach K. There is no in-between, because there are two types of Duke fans: the alumni whose sense of pride borders on extreme arrogance and fans of the program with no familial ties to the school who one day chose to blatantly become one of those arrogant fans. Quite simply, if you're not with them, you're against them, and Coach K's infallible morality is the shield that Blue Devils hide behind.
I say all of this as a preface because I was fortunate enough to be invited to this past weekend's matchup and, being a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to check off an item on the bucket list, I graciously accepted.
The much-anticipated rematch of Duke's Feb. 8 victory, in which Austin Rivers hit a buzzer beating three-pointer to overcome a 10 point deficit in the final two and a half minutes, unfortunately did not live up to its billing. Apart from watching a handful of potential future NBA All-Stars play, the game itself was not overly exciting.
But as the game became one-sided and UNC entered halftime with a 48-24 lead, I realized I was not there to watch a basketball game, but rather to be a part of the Duke basketball experience.
For those unfamiliar with the layout of Cameron Indoor, the lower half of the tier across from the team benches and behind the baskets is the student section. The sections contain a dozen or so rows of bleachers and a wooden panel that acts as a partition to the upper half. Unlike many arenas or athletic venues in any collegiate sport, the students are given the seats closest to the floor and the alumni and booster seats are further up in the stands.
Upon entering the stadium, I felt as if I were being transported back to my teenage years, as the unassuming glass trophy cases and the carpeted hallways and staircases reeked of the staleness of a high school gym. I found my seat in the third to last row across from the student section. But in a stadium that seats just over 9,000, I was still practically on top of the court. And even though I arrived 30 minutes early, I was clearly late, as the legendary "Cameron Crazies" were already in prime form, jumping up and down and chanting eerily in unison.
Maybe it was just the fact that this is one of the biggest rivalries in all of sports, but the Duke fans did not let up for a single minute the entire night, even as Duke fell 88-70. Their immunity to the effect of home-team-is-losing-so-arena-goes-silent syndrome amazed me. The intimacy and the antique feel of Cameron truly makes it a special place, especially in an era of oversized high-definition scoreboards and peripheral entertainment acts that inhabit modern-day sporting events.
What I took away from my trip to Durham was an appreciation for Duke's fans and an understanding of where their pride comes from. Whether that pride manifests itself appropriately or not is up for debate.
But had I decided to be a Cameron Crazy, I certainly would not be shy to let people know it.
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Alex Arthur is a sophomore majoring in economics and English. He can be reached at Alexander.Arthur@tufts.edu.
