Crazie outside of Cameron

Around this time last year, I was sitting in a high school newsroom, querying staff as to the precise meaning of mysteriously oft-referenced "brackets." People actually watch college basketball, you say? 

But when, a year later, those people you now consider friends start roaming hallways stark naked save war paint and bits and pieces of Duke Blue underwear, it's time to deem the all-powerful forces of March Madness somewhat relevant to your daily routine-whether or not you know the difference between a foul and a frat brother's questionable hygienic habits. 

Don't get me wrong; I qualify as a Cameron Crazie-though perhaps only in the sane, outside-the-stadium sense of the term. You see, I am an avid supporter of the basketball fans who support Duke basketball. True, I couldn't put name to face if I passed Shelden on the quad, but I insist I'm pretty Crazie by association. 

The point is that the ties basketball binds are undeniable. The tenting, the whooping, the hugging of strangers, all in the name of the game, are clearly sources of unparalleled intimacy within the far reaches of the student body. What's more, those of us watching the ritualized chaos from the sidelines-Cameron Crazie or Cameron clueless-can't help but cheer along with the masses of blue-bedecked bodies. 

But the question is whether Duke can generate a similarly magnificent force field outside of K-Ville.  

Observing the frenetic fervor funneled into each game, the raw energy channeled into each win, I can't help but marvel at the sheer potentiality of the power thereby amassed. Can we, in like fashion and comparable numbers, gather behind another cause, join hands and hold our breaths for some other reason, burn benches in rowdy, uninhibited celebration of a different kind of victory? Could such a phenomenon take place without the official endorsement of Coach K? 

The answer is no. An intelligent, motivated, resource-laden powerhouse of individuals is in no way capable of such a feat. Crazie I may be, but overly optimistic I am not. 

True, several hundred Duke undergraduates spent their Spring Break working to rebuild and reconstruct towns, homes and lives in the Gulf region last week. 

But don't you ever wonder, as you juggle meetings and reschedule dentist appointments around the next basketball game, what luscious fruit could spring from a similarly unified, competitive front for the sake of, say, recycling more aluminum cans per capita than Harvard and UNC? 

Don't tell me it hasn't occurred to you that our intense hatred of Carolina and all things baby blue could be harnessed for a good beyond basketball. 

Finding a cure or saving a species or reviving the yearlong yellowing tufts of grass poking out miserably from our very own main quad may not be as impossible as it seems. At least, not if attempted through famed, concerted Blue Devilry-minus the bench pyrotechnics, for eco-friendly flair.

So what would it take to get the greater part of the student body pumped about participating in a particular conservation movement or fundraising effort, a specific awareness walk or (fill in the blank)? 

I don't (yet) have an answer. But maybe you do. Possibly deep, very deep, in the recesses of your mind. So sleep on it. Talk about it. Give it some real thought. You'll need a tailored approach, and passing out free T-shirts probably isn't going to cut it.  

Consider the leverage of star power, if possible. 

Maybe a few words from Coach K would do it after all. 

Because sure, maybe Duke basketball is destined to remain the point from which all else begins, blossoms and blooms. 

But through some characteristically Crazie ingenuity, perhaps we could ensure that the final buzzer isn't where our collective A-game effort ends.

Jane Chong is a Trinity freshman. Her column runs every other Friday.