I was in the Charlotte Coliseum for the first two rounds of the NCAA men's basketball tournament this year. I was privileged to meet John Feinstein, a noted sports novelist and writer for the Washington Post. He is also a Duke graduate.
I asked Mr. Feinstein why he was wearing an Army jacket instead of Duke paraphernalia. He replied that although he was a diehard fan of Duke basketball, he was not a fan of Duke University. Mr. Feinstein, I agree wholeheartedly.
Duke is an elitist society. Half the girls at this school won't talk to me. The other half refuse even to acknowledge my existence. If you're a guy, and you've previously thrown or hit a ball with a stick, or if you can drink yourself stupid every weekend so that you don't remember where it is you were, you're probably "cooler" than me.
I haven't seen a social hierarchy like this since high school. Or was that middle school? I can't remember, even though I haven't been drinking.
There is one shining bastion of freedom in this sea of social captivity and separation... Cameron Indoor Stadium.
Every three or so days between the months of October and March, the campus forges a community where there once were separate factions of a whole. For two-and-a-half hours (not including the hour and a half after the doors are open and before tip-off) everyone is, quite simply, a Cameron Crazy. Or, even more simply, a Dukie.
In this brief span, there are no Delta's, Gamma's or Sig Ep's. There are no former lacrosse stars, and no A.B. Duke Scholars, no minorities or majorities and, except for one game, there are no freshmen, sophomores, juniors or seniors. There are only fans.
I can remember where I sat for each and every North Carolina game I attended at Duke, as well as about 10 or 12 others. I can remember exactly where I was, and I can remember the comfortable feeling I got from being there. Cameron Indoor Stadium was the only place on Duke's campus that I truly felt welcome. I sat and stared at the empty rafters for a good half an hour after my last home game. Hopefully I'll be able to come back, but if you're not in the student section, it's not the same.
This familiar sense of community and camaraderie quickly ends after the game is over, except in the tenting village we love to, and will always call K-Ville, where it ends when the tents are removed. But even in K-Ville there is a PiKA tent. In Cameron there are just painted faces, screaming crazies, obnoxious signs and love for a group of 13 or so guys (and hopefully in the future, women).
You could say that this love is based in the tradition that is Duke Basketball. That certainly is a part of it. But, having had the privilege of covering the team throughout this year, I can safely say that it is more than that. Duke Basketball, as an organization, is the kind of group that the University should strive to be.
Someone asked me, after my trip to the Tropicana Dome had been assured by Duke's sports information department, why I didn't want to stay and bask in the possible glow on campus with my classmates if we won the national championship. Why would I miss the bonfire?
After thinking for a second, the answer came to me. Overly simplified, I like the basketball team more than the general student population.
Elton Brand might not know my last name until he reads this column, but every time I talk to him, he acts as if I'm his best friend. C-well is always ready and willing to chat, and will always tell you honestly what he thinks. Shane has that funky perpetual smile on his face like he wants you to be happy. For crying out loud, I can't get half the people I know on this campus to even say hello to me.
The players are always obliging when they talk to the media and sign autographs for fans, even after a tough game and even tougher interview session thereafter. The coaching staff, whether or not they believe it in practical, logical basketball terms, goes out of its way to insist that the fans make a marked difference in their games, which just makes the fans want to cheer more. The Duke administration could take note: Take into account what the students want, and they'll respond positively to your decisions.
I'm tired of Duke. I'm on my last legs. I'm ready to get out of here and maybe join the real world. But despite everything, if I decide to attend law school, I'll have to consider Duke. There is nothing in the world like Duke basketball and Cameron Indoor Stadium. There is no feeling or emotion that could compare. I'm not exactly elated with Duke as an institution, but I will never stop being a true fan of Duke basketball, for what it is, who it is, what it does for people, and what it did for me. It made my four years here bearable, and at times amazing. Thanks.
Dave Schepard is a Trinity senior.
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