The sixth man

I played against the Temple men"s basketball team. The game took place after last semester's exam week on Cincinnati"s Delta flight 1103, en route to my sweet home Alabama. My plane ticket for row 26, seat E happened to place me in the middle of the Temple team, who were on their way to play the University of Alabama. And like any college basketball fanatic, I secretly observed their every move with admiration, as they chatted away about UConn"s loss to UMass that had occurred earlier that evening. Little did I know that the conversation was about to turn into a match-up with me versus them, once the player seated next to me glanced in my direction.

'So where are you flying from?' he asked.

'Raleigh-Durham, because I go to Duke.'

And that was the tip-off. Immediately, he stretched his arms around several seats to get his teammates" attention, and within minutes, six players were faced me to fire away a slew of questions. Despite my (less than) five foot, puny physique, where even my 50-pound suitcase managed to knock me over at the Delta check-in, I quickly realized that in each one of these strong, athletic giants was a sense of fear. Against me.

I couldn"t help but laugh a little, because the thought of a Cameron Indoor game without even the traditional 'Let"s go Duke!' cheer was as outrageous as Coach K coaching Kobe Bryant. I explained to them that although classes wouldn't be in session till that following Wednesday, the early pioneers for Krzyzewskiville "05 would certainly be there. In other words, yes, the craziest of the Cameron Crazies would be present.

Of course, this elicited a range of questions concerning tenting. Although I"ve always encountered this topic of conversation with my non-Duke friends, I"ve never actually talked to any of Duke"s opponents about the somewhat strange cult of basketball here. The only type of interaction I have had with any of the opposing team"s players involve some sort of taunting, jeering or the plain, but effective, jumping-up-and-down screaming. To my surprise, the conversation with the Temple team continued throughout the whole flight, as if the players had forgotten about their upcoming game against Alabama; Jan. 8 was a date that had been etched in their minds all season long.

Sure enough, by the end of the flight, snippets of previous, traumatic Cameron experiences had surfaced. 'When we played there two years ago, I was just a freshman. Y"all scared me,' one player recalled while shaking his head, with the look as if he needed a hug. Another player added, 'I heard there"s a freshman seminar to teach you the cheers.' Finally, before stepping off the plane, a player quietly confessed, 'If y"all do cheers against players, and y"all found out the stuff against me, man, you"re going to rip me up.'

In my mind, I had won.

As I continued to field more questions and concerns while walking with the team to the baggage claim, I realized that the conversation had never turned to the Duke players themselves. Perhaps it was because they, too, had a brilliant, Hall of Fame coach, John Chaney, who could effectively prepare them to compete against any team on the court. But, perhaps there would always be that one element with this Duke team that, even with Chaney"s exceptional coaching, the players could not overcome.

And that element was us, the fans. The Duke University students.

I"ll admit, after a grueling exam week that left me bleeding red bull, I could not wait to board this flight, the last leg of my trip back to Birmingham and spend four weeks free from food points, e-print, the Perkinferno and yes, even the Gothic Wonderland. But when I finally landed in Birmingham, the place I will always refer to as 'home,' my mind was on Duke.

As one player noted, 'Y"all got love for your players, and y"all got love for your school. We respect that.'

Miho Kubagawa is a Trinity sophomore. Her column appears every other Friday.