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Carolina and Duke played one of the most heated ACC Tournament finals in history in 1989, but it was almost overshadowed by the off-court battle between the two coaches. After taking offense to "J.R. Can't Reid" signs at Cameron that he felt were racially motivated, Smith pointed out that the combined SAT scores of Reid and fellow Tar Heel Scott Williams were higher than those of Duke's Christian Laettner and Danny Ferry. That incited Blue Devil fans, who felt Smith was using confidential information to his advantage.
--Adam Lucas, Tar Heel Monthly
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So, as it turns out, Brendan Haywood is Shane Battier's daddy.
From Feb. 2001
By Adam Lucas
originally appeared on Goheels.com
DURHAM-So, as it turns out, Brendan Haywood is Shane Battier's daddy.
I am thinking that the statue of Matt Doherty would look good right in the middle of the Pit. Or maybe right outside of the Doherty Dome (used to be called the Smith Center, but we should be able to push that name change thing through the legislature fairly quickly).
There's something somewhat perplexing about journeying into Cameron Indoor Stadium. You know that the Cameron Crazies are supposed to be funny and hysterical, because Dick Vitale tells us so at every opportunity. So every time the Crazies open their collective mouths, you expect something witty and humorous to come out.
But the truth is that the student section is really the world's largest group of people who spent high school being beaten up and getting their lunch money stolen.
Perhaps this sums it up. When Ronald Curry magically discovered that he had an injured leg, enabling Max Owens to shoot free throws, the guy next to me started physically trembling and yelling, 'Cheaters,' at the top of his lungs.
It's just a good thing he didn't have the ball, or he would have taken it and gone home.
For some reason (and I feel 100% certain that someone named William or Edward will write in to explain it), some of the students spent most of the game with their fist raised, looking for all the world like they were trying out for a part in a '68 Olympic documentary.
Sure, they chant the occasional, 'Let's go Devils,' and (repeatedly), 'Our house,' but the creativity isn't there anymore. About the most inspired thing they came up with was when the Blue Devil mascot was shooting free throws before the game, without much success. Actually, he was shooting more bricks than Damon Thornton.
The ever-witty Crazies began to chant, 'Brendan Haywood.'
Say, who was it that made those game-winning free throws?
Back up a minute. To get to the game, you have to walk through Krzyzewskiville. They even have a big sign that reads, 'Krzyzewskiville.' This is very helpful, because some people might not be clued in by the 115 tents set up on the grass. In fact, before the sign was put up last year, helpless people often stood around in the middle of the tents, muttering, 'Gee whiz, if I could only find Krzyzewskiville.'
This is the great thing about Duke students. Due to the fact that they are significantly more intelligent than anyone else on the face of the planet, including Harvard students, where-just ask them-everyone at Duke got in, but chose not to go, they sometimes have to explain certain things that are not understandable by the rest of us. Hence the sign. Or, as we say in New Jersey, 'Do youse guys get it?'
Anyway, when you finally get inside Cameron Indoor Stadium, you expect it to give off a certain glow, just because of all the reverent things that are said about it. But as it turns out, that's not a glow, that's just heat rising.
Cameron is only slightly less warm than an '88 Buick left out on a July day in Chapel Hill. It's one of the few ACC gyms where turning on the air conditioning means popping a window.
Although all the attention goes to the students, the non-students in the place appear to be ready for a Barry Manilow concert. Let's put it this way: when Cameron Crazies get older, they turn into the Cameron Comatose.
Unfortunately, Cameron was built back in the days when they had not yet invented the technical concept known as 'leg room.' This means that that scalped ticket you purchased out front entitles you to approximately three centimeters (they use the metric system over at Duke since New Jersey is close to Canada) of room. However, as it turns out, three centimeters is plenty of space to jump up and yell, 'Get in your huddle, Krzyzewski,' when Mike Krzyzewski spends an entire second half timeout yelling at the officials.
The humorous thing is that Krzyzewski's tirade leaves assistant coaches Chris Collins and Steve Wojcicanteventryit standing around wondering what, exactly, they are supposed to be doing. Not surprisingly considering their careers, they decide that it would be an opportune time for a huge group hug! Love ya, Shane! Love ya, Mike! Love ya, Carlos!
Speaking of Boozer, who is fast becoming the poster child for why anyone over 6-7 should never go to Duke, it appears he has gotten worse since last year, following in the find center tradition of Greg Newton and Chris Burgess.
Even with all that was going on, there was this feeling hanging over the court like a heavy blue cloud. Oh, wait, that was the fumes from the blue spray paint that the Cameron Crazies had sprayed into their hair.
Still, it just seemed that Duke was destined to win. Especially when Shane Battier spent most of his time waving his arms to the crowd and doing his best Dre' Bly imitation. Naturally, if a Carolina player did this, it would be classless. For Battier, however, it's a terrific show of emotion.
And let's be honest. Is there any way in the world, any at all, that you would rather beat Duke other than Shane Battier-Shane 'Fall Down at a Stiff Breeze' Battier-committing the fifth foul that eventually wins the game for the Tar Heels?
This, folks, is perfect scriptwriting.
And then the group of UNC students that were behind the bench stormed the court, and the Duke fans-who of course wouldn't have dreamed of storming the court-booed, and the only unfortunate thing is that the season can't end right here.
After all, we're going to have to devote a lot of time to the statue design.
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Dean Smith vs. Coach K -
Dean Smith:
Wikipedia link
Smith is one of the most prominent liberals in North Carolina
politics. Politically, he is best known for promoting desegregation.
In 1964, Smith joined a local pastor and a black UNC theology student
to integrate The Pines, a Chapel Hill restaurant. He also integrated
the Tar Heels basketball team by recruiting Charlie Scott as the
university's first black scholarship athlete. In 1965, Smith helped
Howard Lee, a black graduate student at UNC, purchase a home in an
all-white neighborhood.
He opposed the Vietnam War and, in the early 1980s, famously recorded
radio spots to promote a freeze on nuclear weapons. He has been a
prominent opponent of the death penalty. In 1998, he appeared at a
clemency hearing for a death-row inmate and pointed at then-Governor
Jim Hunt: "You're a murderer. And I'm a murderer. The death penalty
makes us all murderers." As head coach, he periodically held UNC
basketball practices in North Carolina prisons.
While coach, he was recruited by some in the Democratic Party to run
for the United States Senate against incumbent Jesse Helms. He
declined. But in retirement, he has continued to speak out on issues
such as the war in Iraq and gay rights.
Coach K:
New Republic Link
Granted, Brodhead is just the latest in a long line of Duke presidents
to kiss Krzyzewski's ring. Even before 1992, when Duke had just won
back-to-back national titles and the school's New York alumni group
pointedly told the school's then-president Keith Brodie that it wanted
Coach K, not Brodie, to address its next gathering, Duke realized that
Krzyzewski was its most important employee--and one to whom homage
must be paid. The basketball court at Duke's Cameron Indoor Stadium is
now called "Coach K Court." The area outside Cameron where Duke
students camp out for tickets has been officially dubbed
"Krzyzewskiville." Krzyzewski has a faculty appointment at Duke's
business school. He even has an institution within the
B-school--something called the "Coach K Center of Leadership &
Ethics."
In addition to paying Coach K homage, Duke has paid him deference.
While it's true that Krzyzewski runs a clean program--his players stay
out of trouble, they go to class, they aren't paid under the
table--he's hardly an angel. Although Krzyzewski is always happy to
field softballs from Dick Vitale, he rarely grants less obsequious
journalists an audience and when he does, he gives them clipped, testy
answers. He's even harder on student journalists. In 1990, angered by
a mid-season report card issued by Duke's student newspaper that gave
his team a B-plus, Krzyzewski summoned the student journalists to a
meeting and, in front of his players, cursed out the students for not
giving the team straight As.
Krzyzewski is similarly abusive to referees, constantly berating
them--usually in florid language--for their apparent shortcomings. In
March, after his team blew an 11-point lead to lose to Connecticut in
the Final Four, Krzyzewski barked over and over at the refs, "You
killed us, you killed us." A favorite pastime for Duke detractors is
to count how many times each game Coach K is caught on camera
dropping, as they call them, "F-bombs." Krzyzewski has even abused his
position for partisan politics, hosting a fundraiser for North
Carolina Republican Senate candidate Elizabeth Dole that--because the
event was called "Blue Devils for Dole" and was held at a
university-owned facility--gave the impression that Duke was endorsing
Dole. In all of these cases of misbehavior, Duke has simply looked the
other way.
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