Tag Archives: Duke

The Tobacconist, Vol. 7

It’s not what you know, it’s who you know. On the face of it, it seemed a little surprising that North Carolina, a ten-loss team, not only got a No. 2 seed in the NCAA tournament but the highest No. 2 seed, making the 10th-ranked (in the polls) Tar Heels the fifth-best team in the country by the selection committee’s lights. They outranked 26-7 and ninth-ranked Duke — whom they beat two out of three times, so no huge surprise — as well as Cincinnati (30-4, No. 6 in the polls), Purdue (28-6, No. 11), and Michigan State (29-4, No. 5). The Spartans, who drubbed UNC in the PK80 invitational tournament in November, were the Big 10 regular season champions, yet were awarded just a No. 3 seed in the NCAA tournament.

The explanation for this apparent confusion is derived from so-called “Quadrant 1” performance. The NCAA has more precisely codified wins this season. The Quadrant system rewards teams for beating top-30 opponents (by RPI) at home, top-50 teams at neutral sites, and top-75 teams on the road. (One can quibble with the RPI itself, but there has to be a baseline somewhere, and it’s not as if the RPI rankings are an abomination.) Those are all considered Quadrant 1 wins, and North Carolina not only has the most in the NCAA (14), they’ve played the most Quadrant 1 teams (22), by far, in the country. That’s why they got a cookie from the committee, whose priorities are quite clear: as often as you can, play good teams, especially away from home. A 14-8 overall Quadrant 1 record is nowhere near as dominant as Virginia’s 12-1, but it’s far better than Michigan State’s 3-4. (Duke finished 6-5 in Quadrant 1 games.) Carolina was rewarded for sheer quantity, which actually harmonizes with the program’s overall strengths: their current three-year run of high-level play has been fueled largely by how many extra shots their offensive rebounds provide them, and by players whose quality owes largely to staying around for three or four years.

The Tar Heels were also rewarded for something they had no control over: the ACC regular season schedule, which required them to run a very tough gauntlet, much tougher than Duke’s. While the Blue Devils were beating up on both Pittsburgh and Wake Forest twice each, UNC had to play Clemson twice, N.C. State twice, and Notre Dame twice. Their lone games against Florida State, Louisville, Syracuse, and Virginia were all on the road. Carolina got extra Quadrant 1 points just by showing up.

An outcome of this math can be measured in distance: UNC only has to drive down to Charlotte for the tournament’s first weekend. They’ll take on No. 15 seed and Atlantic Sun champion Lipscomb in the first round. It’s the Bisons’ first ever tournament appearance. Why they’re called the Bisons is beyond me, since Lipscomb is in Nashville. (But then, why are any sports teams in America called the Tigers?) If UNC manages to run the Bisons off the cliff — and hey, the Ken Pomeroy metrics rank Lipscomb eight spots lower than Wofford, so the Tar Heels definitely have a chance — they’ll meet the winner of Texas A&M and Providence in the second round. For what it’s worth, the Tar Heels beat Providence in the second round of the tournament two years ago, in Raleigh, on the way to the NCAA championship game against Villanova.

Carolina fans may wince at the memory of that heartbreaker, but Carolina has a decent shot to advance to what would be their third straight Final Four. That would put them in rarefied air. It’s only happened eleven times — once by Carolina themselves, back in the late sixties, when UCLA was setting a never-to-broken record by appearing in ten straight Final Fours. (Duke made it to five in a row from 1988-1992.) To achieve that threepeat, Carolina has the easiest path of any No. 2 seed, as their overall rating affords them. The No. 1 seed in the West Region, where UNC was placed, is Xavier. Along the way, UNC would probably have to get past either Michigan, whom they beat earlier this season in Chapel Hill, or Houston, a slightly underappreciated and very good team that can both score and defend. (To me, that’s the scary matchup.) Still, all the way up to the regional final, it’s hard not to look at the bracket and conclude that UNC is probably the team you’d take. Then it’s a one-game toss-up.

Duke, meanwhile, is off to Pittsburgh as the No. 2 seed in the Midwest Region. They’ll play Iona in the first round, followed by the winner of Rhode Island and Oklahoma. That means there’s already a little drama awaiting the Blue Devils in the second round. Tenth-seeded Oklahoma has not played well lately, but they boast Trae Young, the wispy star guard, a lottery pick this coming June and the sort of player who can score forty points on any given night. If he has a career game — and players like Young tend to love bright-spotlight moments like an underdog March matchup against a team like Duke — the Blue Devils could find themselves in the soup. (You might recall what happened when they drew Derrick Williams and Arizona in the 2011 tournament.) Seventh-seeded Rhode Island — which wears Carolina Blue and is called the Rams — is coached by Danny Hurley, Duke legend Bobby’s brother. (An aside: Rhode Island’s loss in the Atlantic Ten tournament final had a domino effect of jeopardizing the bubbly at-large bid hopes of Arizona State, which is coached by… Bobby Hurley. Arizona State squeaked in as a First Four probation pick, and you should check out Danny’s reaction when his fear that he’d cost his brother a bid went unrealized.)

Arizona State’s play-in game — against Syracuse, an ACC bid I wish had been swapped out for Notre Dame, a much more interesting and fun team to watch, with perhaps the ACC’s most likable coach — happens to be in Duke’s half of the Midwest Region bracket, making it possible for the Blue Devils to play both Hurleys’ teams in consecutive tournament games. (Cue committee-has-a-sense-humor chorus.) That won’t happen, though, because Arizona State would have to beat not only Syracuse and its sticky 2-3 zone but then none other than the fearsome Michigan State Spartans — who, are, once again, the trendy pick to win the tournament, as it seems they are every year. The Spartans are the No. 3 seed in Duke’s region. Duke beat Michigan State earlier this year behind a career  night from hot-and-cold Grayson Allen, but that was nearly four months ago. A third-round rematch would be a potential powerhouse showdown in the round of 16, and it could be followed by Duke facing No. 1 seed Kansas in the regional final in Omaha. If the Blue Devils are going to the Final Four, they’ll have to earn it pretty much from the start. Even Iona can’t be discounted, if for no other reason than that the ghosts of Lehigh and Mercer are still perhaps hanging over Duke.

So with all that out of the way, where are our two teams now as they enter the tournament?

Duke plays at the highest level country, except when they don’t. That’s a way of saying that they’re a freshman-dominated team. They looked disengaged and outplayed in losing to Virginia Tech two weeks ago; looked terrifyingly great in storming back to beat UNC in their next game; had no trouble running away from Notre Dame in their first ACC Tournament game; and then let UNC slap them silly until a final, desperate rally in the last five minutes of the game almost produced another sensational comeback. You just never quite know with this team. At the level of efficiency and metrics there’s lots to love. Duke has the country’s third-best offense and seventh-best defense, per Pomeroy. They’ve got the best player in the country, in my opinion, and when Marvin Bagley III gets going he’s close to unstoppable. But they have long stretches of losing focus, and the solution Mike Krzyzewski has come with at guard doesn’t entirely work. Grayson Allen runs the show, but he isn’t a natural point guard, and no real priority seems to be given to feeding the ball to the post, where Bagley and Wendell Carter, Jr. ought to be primary options. It amazes me how many possessions go by without Bagley or Carter getting the ball anywhere near decent scoring position, if at all (although you could argue that anywhere Bagley gets the ball puts him in decent position to score). Krzyzewski’s guard-focused style is long practiced, of course, and he loves Allen; but it does seem like he runs the risk of living and dying by his lone senior.

As for Carolina, they’ve got the friendliest path to the Final Four of any No. 2 seed. They’ve been playing well, even in their loss to Virginia in the ACC Tournament final. Unlike Duke, Carolina is pretty predictable out there on the floor. They tend to win or lose based on varying degrees of how well they do the things they always do (or try to do). In their win over Duke in the semifinals, they took seventeen more shots than the Blue Devils did by dint of offensive rebounds and points off turnovers. Against Virginia, those advantages weren’t there. They’re playing about at their peak — also unlike Duke, a team that could get a lot better in these last six games — but the question is whether UNC’s peak is high enough to take them back to the national championship. Probably not, but that a team that lost to Wofford at home this season and started the conference schedule 5-5 has set itself up for a decent shot at the Final Four may be reward enough.

The Tobacconist is unsure whether he will be back this season. He has enjoyed it tremendously — probably more than he’s enjoyed any season in recent memory, and that includes numerous Final Fours and championships by our two local teams in this decade. (This is just a reminder that either Duke or Carolina has been in the Final Four in six of the last ten seasons; had Kendall Marshall not fractured his wrist against Creighton in 2012, it’d almost surely be seven.) The sheer coltish excitement of watching Duke’s freshmen learn on the job — not to mention Bagley’s breathtaking ability, Carter’s great old-man post defense, Gary Trent, Jr.s’ sweet shooting — and the subtler simmer of UNC’s development have yielded all kinds of rewards, including three games against one another this season, all of them entertaining. No one reads these posts, I barely edit them. They’re just to express a personal joy in watching the local college basketball, which is the greatest college basketball in the world.

But for me March Madness is closer to March Sadness. The season is coming to an end, and even though there’s baseball, our chance to watch college basketball players is by definition limited. Grayson Allen, Joel Berry, and Theo Pinson have built tremendous legacies around here, and it’s hard to say goodbye to these kids who have played so hard for so many minutes, games and seasons — and who have been growing up, in their own different and tangled ways, before our eyes. And then there are the inevitable early exits by players like Bagley, leaving us to wonder what could have been had they stayed longer. There’s always a point in the season, usually right around the first Duke-UNC game in early February, when you feel as though it’s all just getting fully going, and then you realize how soon it’s all going to end. It has been a blue winter in more ways than one, and the Tobacconist feels fully saturated in the color, be it sky or midnight or some amalgamated shade. The NCAA Tournament is an awful lot of fun, but it’s also driven by unpredictability, unfairness, and bitterly quick ends to long work. It’s as hard to watch as it is fun. And it may be that between those opposed feelings, the best thing to do is to take it in quietly and let it speak for itself.

I leave you with a beautiful tune by the Pernice Brothers that I always associate with the end of winter and coming of spring. It’s called “The Weakest Shade of Blue.”

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The Tobacconist, Vol. 6

“Fandom is a great beacon of our cultural idiocy,” a pro ballplayer once told me. “Wanting your team to win and not understanding why they can’t is so dumb.” This has always stuck with me, not because I quite agree with it — why would there be sports at all if no one rooted for anyone? — but because the way I feel after my team loses is generally not so much disappointed or upset as something close to dumb, and dumb in a particular way; that is, for having any kind of emotional reaction to athletes winning or losing games.

The psychology of this reaction is complex and has surely inspired many studies, journal articles, cultural studies, and so on. I don’t feel the need to analyze it much more than we already do. And I need to qualify this by saying that I covered both Duke and UNC basketball as a journalist, which means that I have: A) a certain amount of objectivity (although you would be amazed by how many sports journalists are actually just diehard fans of some team or other); B) an unusual diffusion of what rooting interests I do possess. Not many people can get behind both of these rival programs.

For a longish time, I adopted the ballplayer’s no-rooting, fandom-is-idiocy ideology, because I have Buddhist tendencies and will look for ways to practice them. But over time, I’ve come to appreciate that fandom, expressed in certain ways, bespeaks a certain kind of generosity and ardor that I don’t really want to relinquish, and probably can’t even if I were to try. I grew up around here. I remember Rich Yonakor and Gene Banks and Ranzino Smith and Alaa Abdelnaby and where I was when [insert any number of great Duke and/or UNC moments here]. Our fandom dwells in our childhoods. To abandon it is to be less than our full selves.  Continue reading The Tobacconist, Vol. 6

The Tobacconist, Vol. 5

I was at last night’s game in Cameron Indoor Stadium, in which Duke thrashed Louisville, 82-56. I covered the Blue Devils in 2011-2012 and so had seen numerous games in the justly legendary building, but there’s something very different about sitting in the stands. It’s not just that I was literally on the other side of the court from press row, nor that I was with some friends who had kindly invited me. The whole feel of the experience is different; the eyes see differently; one’s investment is different. The specifics of the action on the court yield to a broader absorption: swaths of play; looks on players’ faces and attitudes of body language; and those almost mysterious rises and falls in collective intensity level that are like weather systems passing in quick time lapse.

Because I’d always gone straight into the press room when I was covering Duke, I had never thought to take the time to visit Cameron Indoor Stadium’s museum/shrine to Duke basketball and varsity sports generally. We arrived rather early and had some time on our hands, so we wandered through it. The one exhibit I’ll never forget was what I took to be an artist’s heroic rendering of  basketball shoe at an approximately 2:1 scale, about the size of a small dachshund. As I moved closer and read the placard, I discovered that it was an Actual. Shoe. Worn. By. Jahlil. Okafor. You know what they say about men with big shoesContinue reading The Tobacconist, Vol. 5

The Tobacconist, Vol. 4.

For a few years I worked for a redoubtable and stereotypical prima donna chef who was known to 86 menu items in order to force customers to order other ones; refuse to cook certain cuts of meat past a certain temperature regardless of whether it was ordered that way; deny his stock of nicer wine glasses to guests who didn’t spend an arbitrary minimum amount on their bottle; and so on. He drove his cooks like oxen and could be mercilessly hard on his floor staff as well, and harder still in affect because he didn’t throw Ramsay-ish tantrums. Instead he gave cold, calm, premeditated, dead-eyed, withering disapproval. It hurt up under the sternum to receive this treatment, but there was treatment of his that hurt even worse: being ignored. Once that happened to them a few times, waiters knew their time at the restaurant was short. They’d never be fired, of course: that could result in filing for unemployment, which the chef would never risk paying. He’d simply make them feel so exiled — abetted, somewhat unintentionally, even apologetically, by the rest of the front-of-house staff, who were too terrified to risk affiliation with a pariah — that they’d quit sooner or later, often as a means of putting and end to an unhappy spell working the restaurant’s Siberia section, which of course included Table 13.

After UNC beat Duke in Chapel Hill last Thursday night, Duke head coach Mike Krzyzewski was asked about shooting guard Grayson Allen’s low scoring output. Krzyzewski began his answer like so: “Trevon…” Then he tailed off and rephrased his response: “Grayson had to handle the ball a lot.” He didn’t mention Trevon Duval again.

Continue reading The Tobacconist, Vol. 4.

The Tobacconist, Vol. 3

Is it going to go like this for the Tar Heels? Lose multiple games in a row and then come home and maul a lower-division conference opponent 96-66 (or 96-65) behind a big night by Luke Maye? At what point is the inflection point, if any, where progress begins? Everyone knows UNC is too talented and has too much experience to be as bad as they frequently are, so why, frequently, are they? This is really the question of the season in Chapel Hill, unless the team somehow gets so far past the inflection point that the Final Four becomes a legitimate subject. Continue reading The Tobacconist, Vol. 3

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

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

A New and Unique Region of Hell: Notes on the ACC basketball season

Since I stopped covering local college basketball for the Indy I’ve begun each late autumn telling myself I was done with college basketball. The NCAA is outmoded and corrupt; the whole big-money contraption puts outrageous pressure on kids, who don’t get any of the money and are made to take the fall when the systems around them fail; the NCAA is hopelessly outmoded and corrupt; we’re enabling rageaholic coaches like Frank Martin and Larry Eustachy (and so many other ones who don’t make the news because their exorbitant rage is normalized by the environment); college sports are provincial to a dangerous and stupid degree; the NCAA is hopelessly outmoded and grotesquely corrupt. And then every year I wind up getting interested. Well, I live in Durham, North Carolina, the son of a UNC professor and the husband of a woman with three degrees from Duke. Even LeBron James just said, in so many words, that the Duke-Carolina rivalry is one of the very greatest in sports, and I’m a sports person. I will never be done with college basketball.

Continue reading A New and Unique Region of Hell: Notes on the ACC basketball season