I played tennis with some friends on Saturday morning, which immediately put me in the mindset that I had fulfilled my physical obligation for the day and could commence with drinking heavily. My pal Jim was having a little pre-game soiree at his place in Durham, and I took a growler with me. We only had about an hour before it was time to roll, but I managed to eat a giant sausage wrapped in bacon, piss off an Auburn fan by telling him I hated Cam Newton, and drain the growler. For reasons I can’t really remember, I was wearing an Eli Manning jersey.
Miracles are all around us, David
Needless to say, there were some high spirits among our little group as we walked toward the stadium. We used a gravel road to get there, and on the way I grabbed a fallen bamboo shoot from the woods. Did you know there was bamboo in America? I did not. In fact, I’m not even certain it was bamboo. But as I carried the long shoot over my shoulder, I had a thought: you never know when a miracle is going to happen. It could literally happen at any point. Miracles almost require that you don’t expect them. So just because I didn’t expect a miracle against Stanford, that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to happen. But there I went, violating my own rule: I started expecting a miracle. Then I threw the bamboo back into the woods and got down to the awful, wearisome act of hoping.
Hello friends! My name is Marc. My first sports memory is watching Christian Laettner crush the hopes and dreams of every Kentucky fan on that wonderful day back in 1992. I jumped around the living room like a maniac and gushed with glee as my dad replayed the shot over and over again because we taped the game on our high tech Hitachi VCR. Since that day Duke Basketball has been the only sport I’ve truly followed. The Carolina Hurricanes have a fun bandwagon to hop on if they are in the playoffs, but does anyone outside of Raleigh really care about the regular season? The Panthers have been an unmitigated disaster for the past few years and this year looks to promise some new lows! Shane’s article on the Duke-Richmond game brought up wonderful memories of the John Fox Run-Run-Pass-Punt offense. This year I’m expecting a variety based upon Run-Sack-Interception playcalling. I’ve lived in North Carolina for twenty-three years and I haven’t been able to really focus on anything but the Blue Devils. 