Monthly Archives: January 2018

The Tobacconist, Vol. 2

Fun (or “fun”) stat: Yesterday, Duke and UNC both lost at home on the same day for the first time since 1973.

Are they panicking in Chapel Hill yet? The Tar Heels lost to their little brother in their own bedroom yesterday, and there’s every reason to worry that within thirty-six hours  they’ll have lost three games in a row. On Tuesday night they play at Clemson, where the very-good Tigers are waiting to avenge so forth and so on.

Roy Williams likes to say, after losses, that he has to coach better, although he doesn’t seem to have said it after yesterday’s defeat. I’ve always understood this habitual mea culpa as his way of playing possum in front of his team so that public complaint will be fired at him rather than on his amateur athletes. An admirable gambit, but will he, you know, coach better? One minor change to his customary postgame dadgummery this season is his recent admission that, although he still doesn’t believe that he (or anyone) should have to “coach effort,” he does in fact have to do that and he is trying. But that’s not his way and never has been. The Roy Squat, which he will occasionally adopt as his team, in the throes of a tight game, drops back into defense, is a show of motivation, but it sometimes strikes me that Williams’s efforts come too late–hence his famous habit of waiting too long to call timeouts, or never calling them at all. Continue reading The Tobacconist, Vol. 2

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The Tobacconist, Vol. 1

I sometimes think I’m still covering the two blue teams around here. I watch them, I think about them, I care about them, I talk about them. I’ve been quite appalled by the NCAA for years, and have once or twice sworn off college sports. But when you do that, you abandon these young athletes who are out there on the courts and fields. They don’t care about the corruption around them; they’ve just come to play; and in their passion and pride they alone are responsible for lifting their sports out of the surrounding mire. What dignity and value big-time college sports have owes entirely to the people playing them, and we owe them gratitude and attention.

More locally, Duke and UNC are our greatest gift. To wake up in Durham or Chapel Hill every winter morning and know that we possess the most profound and potent energy source in college basketball is to feel unbelievably lucky. What we have here is something to celebrate, delight in, protect, and promote, as New Orleans does with its parades and Barcelona does with its Gaudí. So here’s some of that. Continue reading The Tobacconist, Vol. 1