Conventional wisdom around campus is that the days of Duke basketball glory have returned. Listen in on conversations on campus, and you'll hear phrases like "the depth it takes to win" and "Duke is back" being tossed around like the kindling for a massive bench-burning bonfire. And not to overly intellectualize an institution like college basketball, but the return of a nationally-ranked Duke men's basketball team mark the return of fun and happiness to dear old Duke: two cultures that appeared to have gone the way of frats on East and a cramped, understocked and poorly-lit Uncle Harry's.
Truth is, when the basketball team does well, everybody is a lot happier. And why not? After all, Duke basketball is the one institution that distinguishes us, saving us from being some stuffy Ivy League school where the bleak winter days rarely break 30 degrees, and where the students rub their hands together maniacally, planning how to parlay last summer's internship into eventual world domination.
A top-ranked Blue Devil squad reminds us that we can have fun, and that not every day here need be reserved for sucking-up to professors and 15-minute breaks from studying in "the Stacks" that, only at Duke, could pass as procrastinating. Yep, Duke is back and so is fun.
I am glad, too, because for a while there, things were getting a little silly. I mean, now I can legitimately hang out in Krzyzewskiville with a beer and not hear the nerdy condescension from whispering passersby: "Does he even go here? It's Thursday, and he's drinking a beer."
I guess on one level, it is sad to attach an enormous amount of weight to a basketball team's success, but what we have here goes beyond the mere competition and drama of ordinary sport. Duke basketball defines who we are. It allows us the privilege of saying, "Yeah, I got a great education, but how 'bout those seats I had for four years?!"
What defines Duke is not the books or the subject matter of the classes. Need I remind you that the concepts of biochemistry and the work of Keynes exist at every other school, and not to mention, in your local library? They do, and they read the exact same everywhere; nothing about them is particular to Duke. So, by all means be a part of something that is truly Duke. Leave the books, get pumped and go to the game.
Moreover, an education of the caliber of Duke should introduce you to new thoughts and experiences. Learning is a life-long process, so for gosh sakes, don't do all of it now. Instead, be in Cameron for other life experiences: the thrills of a last-second Capel shot over UNC, of the tired, huddled masses of K-Ville yearning to denigrate opponents. These are the ties that truly bind. When I run into a Duke alum, do we bemoan the fact that, man, those requirements for that sociology degree sure are tougher than when she went here in the late-'70s? No. We talk Duke hoops.
Now, I realize a great deal of these arguments resemble those of a beer-swilling anti-intellectual prone to procrastination, but I simply mean to suggest that, whether or not you realize it-and, by now, my professors from last semester do-Duke versus Lehigh is more important than your 10-page paper due the next day. Why, you ask?
Unlike mastering the material of your classes or doing your work, to truly experience Duke basketball, you must show up and do your homework. The notion of a 2-3 zone does you no good, unless you are there to see Coach K dissect it, instructing Wojo, who dumps it down low to Newton, who kicks it out to Trajan for three. Swish. Miller time.
So, stop being selfish, constantly thinking about yourself and the mountains of work you have to do. Give a little. Didn't Duke teach you to think about others? Think about others in the Duke community.
Think about McLeod. He likes some support, too, ya know, and it probably warms his heart to see you in the crowd with a face so blue it looks like you've been choked to death. And, he wouldn't want you to be at home working instead of being in the crowd, jumping and yelping like a complete fool when he nails a 15-footer.
As my zealotry settles to a violent simmer, my one hope is that you see Duke basketball for what it truly is: the great populist and egalitarian movement you have been searching for all of your life. It may be the one aspect of your life where the socially-constructed distinctions of class, race, ethnicity and academic standing (thank God) cease to exist, blurring as you sweat and whoop your nationally-ranked Duke Blue Devils into the annals of athletic accomplishment.
Carpe Dukem: eight days until we beat the Heels.
Brent McGoldrick is a Trinity senior.
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