I'm feeling a little like Ernie Banks today.
"Let's play two," the Chicago Cubs' Hall of Fame infielder once said. He didn't want to head home just yet.
If you're an undergraduate, like it or not, you're going to have to hit the road within the next couple of weeks. Some of you probably wish you could stick around a little while longer -- maybe you're hoping for extra innings, or you're praying for rain. Some of you can't wait to go -- either your team is mired in last place, or you've had the pennant sewed up for weeks -- but one way or another, it's time for the season to end.
About one-fourth of you were called into the office last week, facing "the toughest decision a manager's got to make . . . " Your careers are over.
The rest of you, in true Cubs fashion, have one or more seasons left to play: "Just wait until next year," you say with all the conviction you can muster.
Me -- I'm feeling like Ernie. I'd like to do it all over again.
I'm not thinking about the organic chemistry and the physics -- even the big leaguers have to deal with junk they'd rather avoid, like interviews with the media. I'm mostly talking about sports.
The Blue Devils have had a pretty nice run in the past four years and I got to watch, pencil in hand. The soccer teams have advanced to final fours and the tennis squads have rolled. Volleyball improved every year, peaking last season with a trip deep into the NCAA tournament. Baseball turned things around too, setting school records for wins two years running.
But when students leave Duke -- be it for the summer or for good -- one memory is bound to travel with them, packed away in those U-hauls with the laundry and the diplomas: men's basketball.
It is, without a doubt, the defining Duke experience. If you visit a recent graduate, wherever they are scattered across this country, odds are better than 2:1 that you'll find Blue Devil hoops paraphernalia plastered to their apartment walls. Some people will actually admit that they chose to attend this institution because of basketball.
Not me.
I, for one, picked Duke for its stellar academic climate, its intellectual rigor and high moral virtue symbolized, of course, by the big building which dominates the center of campus.
The chapel, I mean. Not Cameron.
If I had to choose a single sport that influenced my decision to come here, I'd pick football.
I grew up on Duke football -- from Ben Bennett and Chris Castor to Julius Grantham and Anthony Dilweg. While Blue Devil basketball was becoming a tough ticket, there was always a seat in Wallace Wade Stadium with your name on it -- and my family took 'em up on it, five Saturdays every Fall. I was a junior Blue Devil back before those sports promotion geniuses came up with a club kids could join for a low, low price (sorry, Mike Sobb . . . )
Those were the days of Ronald Reagan and the prelude to ``Airball," -- Steve Spurrier's tenure as offensive coordinator under head coach Red Wilson. "Red Means Go" was the slogan and the Blue Devils charged to a pair of 6-5 seasons. But Wilson was fired.
The Steve Sloan era which followed was dismal -- the only real highlight was the stellar career of linebacker Mike Junkin, one of the most dominating backs ever to play defense for Duke. Cleveland made him the fifth pick in the draft overall, but a hand injury cut his NFL career shamefully short.
Then, finally, athletic director Tom Butters got it right when he brought Spurrier back to Durham, and Duke started winning again. Duke's 1989 All-American bowl trip would be the program's only post-season appearance in 30 years. And even when Spurrier's Blue Devils lost, their quick-strike offense made them the most exciting team in the Atlantic Coast Conference.
That's why it was so hard to see Duke slip again under Barry Wilson. It was a tough four years, as the fans who once filled Wallace Wade started spending their Saturdays at home.
Here's hoping Fred Goldsmith has the plan to turn it around again. Blue helmets -- like they used to wear in the early 80s -- are a step in the right direction. My gut feeling is that he can be successful here.
But somebody else will get to take my seat to watch it. I'm awfully jealous.
Meanwhile, I've got a little bit of advice for y'all before you head back to wherever it is you call home. No sappy garbage D this is some stuff you can actually use.
Head on over to Durham Athletic Park one more time before you go. The Bulls have made two impressive changes this season that are worth your attention. First, "Wool E. Bull," the team mascot, has been redesigned so that he actually looks kinda cute. They dumped last year's model, a dorky-looking excuse for a bovine with a nose bigger than a Texas ego. Second, they sent last year's dime-store Casio synthesizer to the dumpster and found an instrument that actually, more or less, sounds like an organ. It won't bring back memories of Wrigley Field or anything, but trust me D it's a big improvement.
Complete your baseball tour with a trip to Zebulon, N.C., and check out the Mudcats D not because your baseball experience will be better there than at the DAP (it won't) or even because, if you hurry on over tonight, you might see Birmingham's Michael Jordan get a hit (he probably won't.) Go to see Carolina's first-baseman, Mike Brown D he's a 6-7 tower with a slick-glove on a fast track to the Major Leagues. He had four doubles the other night, and he's the next Frank Thomas D you heard it here first.
Chris Hurtgen is a Trinity senior and Assistant Sports Editor of The Chronicle. Thanks, Dad, for bringing home the newspapers all those years. Who would have known . . .
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