It's a simple syllogism.
A. Tyler Hansbrough is good.
B. Fans dislike Tyler Hansbrough.
C. Fans dislike Tyler Hansbrough because he is good.
We've all read and heard the sundry articles and in-game commentaries detailing "Psycho T" and his Horatio Alger-esque rise to athletic prominence. We've been told that disliking Hansbrough is petty-the manifestation of a fierce rivalry that prevents us from appreciating a "special" college basketball player in an era increasingly devoid of them.
But Tyler Hansbrough is the most insufferably good basketball player of his generation.
No, this isn't Blue Devil bitterness, and it's certainly not the kind of "Oh sure, you hate him now, but don't you wish he were on your team?" jealousy journalists have promulgated for close to three years now.
The reason Tyler Hansbrough is so utterly detestable isn't because he's too good.
It's because he's not good enough.
Basketball, more than a sport like baseball or football, appeals to a larger athletic aesthetic. The sport is dependent on a certain graceful flow, and its history is one of transcendent individuals who have forced us to reimagine the athletic capacity of human beings. It's why Jordan was more than just a basketball player, and it's why LeBron's aspiration isn't to be a champion, but a global icon.
The greatest basketball players aren't just athletes; they're artists. They can't be defined by adjectives such as "workmanlike," instead requiring ones such as "freakish" or entirely new terms-hence "Jordanesque" (Urban Dictionary definition: "a word to define all forms of perfection.")
Hansbrough, on the other hand, possesses a game best defined by his admirable "effort," "hard work" and "heart." In another context, the same words mean you're about to be cut from your high school team.
This isn't to say that Hansbrough is a bad basketball player, or even that he isn't a very good one. In fact, the focus on his work ethic sells his actual talent short, since Hansbrough has the rare combination of strong hands and a soft touch that has been missing from the college game for some time.
The point is that Hansbrough has managed to provoke a Duke-like level of hatred while donning Carolina blue because he violates the unwritten rule that the nation's "best" basketball player should do things on the court that we, the people, cannot.
Time for a brief history lesson: The best player of the NBA's first decade was a 6-foot-10 bespectacled center named George Mikan. Mikan is one of the league's 50 greatest players, but the only reason anyone today remembers him is because his signature move has become a standard drill all aspiring basketball players perform by the time they turn nine. It's called the Mikan Drill, and it involves making layups from under the basket.
It's pretty easy, although doing it really fast generally makes you dizzy.
There aren't any drills for the Jordans or Magics, because what makes them special is that what they did on the court can't be replicated by anybody else, let alone 9-year-olds. What does a Jordan Drill look like?
"OK kids, take the inbounds pass, two hard dribbles left, elevate, linger in the air just longer than possible and knock down the jumper. Don't forget to stick your tongue out."
It's pretty clear which category Hansbrough belongs in, even among college players. Nothing he does on the court is particularly special or even remotely graceful. He shoots from his shoulder to push the ball to the basket, and he frequently jumps off the wrong foot for open-court dunks (somebody didn't do their Mikan Drill enough as a kid).
I'm not asking Hansbrough to be as good as Michael Jordan, even if he's passed MJ and all the other Tar Heel greats on the school's all-time scoring list. I just want my reaction to the potential all-time leading scorer in ACC history to be something other than: "I could probably do that."
You know, maybe a reaction like 9,314 people had last Wednesday when Stephen Curry decided to make Duke work for its 13th win. Or the kind elicited three years ago when J.J. Redick scored 41 points on 13 shots against Virginia.
Although, to be fair, I could probably do those things, too.
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