Becoming a Duke Fan
Although he lived about 65 miles east of Raleigh-Durham, my dad literally grew up on “Tobacco Road,” helping farm tobacco from a young age until he left his small hometown of Rosewood for college. Dad was six years old when the ACC began play during its first season as a conference in 1953-54. He never had a favorite team but loved watching/listening to ACC games before going out on his dirt court on the farm and pretending he was one of the great players in the conference - first Ronnie Shavlik and Dickie Hemric as a kid, before moving on to Len Chappell, Art Heyman, and Billy Cunningham as a teenager. He played basketball at Rosewood High School and loved to say he made the 10 man varsity roster because “only 11 guys tried out.” As an adult, Dad was a high school basketball official for many years, calling games in and around the Wilmington area and occasionally working a Laney High School game featuring a young Mike Jordan.
I say all of this about my dad to illustrate his lifelong love of basketball and the ACC. I’m positive he and I would have bonded over something else, but for me as a young boy, it was watching ACC basketball games with my dad. He still didn’t have a favorite team, we’d watch any game that was on - of course, the four North Carolina schools but also a lot of Virginia and Georgia Tech (he loved Bobby Cremins). Dad would point out fundamentals - catching it with two hands, guys moving without the ball, using the glass, making free throws, playing defense, and boxing out. He also loved point guards, guys that were floor generals and extensions of the coach.
As a 4-year old during the ‘88-’89 season, I told my dad that I really liked watching Duke the most, so we began to tune in to the Blue Devils with more frequency. The following season, Bobby Hurley arrived in Durham and was given the keys as a freshman point guard. I thought he was awesome - orchestrating the offense, dishing out assists, and playing tenacious defense, all while being the smallest guy on the court. That season was a big stepping-stone for me as a fan. We watched a lot of Duke and I studied Hurley so I could copy his game now that I was in my first year of organized basketball as a 5-year old. I told my dad that not only was I a Duke fan, but that I would be attending college at Duke when the time came. It’s funny to me I was thinking that far down the road, but my goal was to sit among the Cameron Crazies one day. Duke lost to UNLV in the 1990 championship game but avenged that loss the following year before capturing Duke’s first National Championship. I watched highlights of the 1991 Final Four on VHS every day after school, and could quote that portion of the Sports Illustrated tape word for word.
1992 elevated my young fandom to another level - it’s the first year I can remember the flow of the whole season, and also the first year my dad and I devised a system for games I was not allowed to stay up and watch. I was so invested that I wanted to know the outcome of the game immediately upon waking up. At that age, it seemed devastating to go to bed not knowing if Duke would win or lose. After the game was over or sometimes in the morning before I would wake up, the deal was Dad would put a Duke hat on my bedroom dresser if the Blue Devils won. If the hat wasn’t there, it meant they lost.
The hat was there a lot in 1992, but I remember a loss from that regular season the most. I woke up to find no hat for the first time all year on February 6th. Duke had lost the night before in Chapel Hill 75-73 and Bobby Hurley broke a bone in his foot. I was devastated but Dad told me to keep my head up, it was only one game and the season was far from over. Then he suggested something I’ll never forget. Even though all my UNC friends would give me a hard time (so did the teachers), I should still wear a Duke t-shirt to school that day. Dad said something to the effect of “if Duke is your team, then you support them whether they win or lose. They played hard and be proud of their effort.” I wore my Duke gear that day and vowed never to be a fair weather fan.
The 1992 season was also my first time in Cameron, a game I’ll always remember. Getting to experience that environment with my dad and see a classic ACC game (Laettner scored 30 points as Duke beat Maryland 91-89) cemented my love for Duke even more. I previously wrote, “The thing I remember most was actually after the game. Security in those days was much different and after the horn sounded, my dad asked me if I wanted to walk down onto the court. I remember walking to mid-court and staring at that old Duke Basketball logo, ingraining it in my memory, then swishing a couple of imaginary free throws before we left hoops heaven.”
Of course my most vivid memory from 1992 was the NCAA Tournament, specifically the Kentucky match-up in the Elite Eight. My parents were out, watching the games that afternoon with some other couples in the neighborhood. I remember watching the whole game sitting on the floor in our living room, hanging on every play. There were so many key plays, so much back and forth. When Sean Woods banked in his shot over Laettner to win the game for Kentucky, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t believe that Duke team was not going to get a chance in the Final Four. As Duke broke the huddle and Grant Hill took the ball from the official, I couldn’t watch. I closed my eyes and listened to Verne Lundquist call the action. “Here’s the pass to Laettner, puts it up…” and then Verne yelled “Yes” but when you hear it back, his excitement makes the call somewhat inaudible. The first image I saw when I opened my eyes was Thomas Hill with his hands on his head. Did they win or lose? The next frame showed the Duke players in celebration - unbelievable. When my parents got home, Dad and I celebrated and practiced recreating the play over and over on my Nerf hoop. I was Laettner, receiving the pass, putting it on the floor, faking right before turning over my left shoulder. The jumper was pure each time but not without Dad’s Grant Hill impersonation.
The final piece of 1992 for me was the National Championship game. The game saw the veteran Duke team on the cusp of history versus Michigan’s Fab Five. No one could imagine five freshmen starting in the National Title game back then. Of course, the game was too late on Monday night for me to watch live but, for the first time, my dad offered to tape the game for me. The Duke hat was there in the morning when I woke up, and I watched that VHS over and over. Even though Duke only trailed by 1 at the half, it felt like they were down 20. Laettner turned it over time and again and Chris Webber was incredible. That was the first time I realized “a tale of two halves” was a thing. Duke played almost flawlessly in the second half and won their second consecutive National Championship in convincing fashion. What a season.
After four years of watching Duke games, tough losses, and big time wins - after hours of emulating Bobby Hurley in the driveway, wearing my Duke shirt win or lose, and my first game in Cameron, it’s safe to say somewhere along the line I had officially become a Duke fan.
My dad turns 76 tomorrow, so reflecting on how I came to be a Duke fan was especially fun because I got to revisit some great memories with him, and I'm thankful a lot of those memories are intertwined with Duke Basketball. But of all the important things he taught me over the years, his influence on my love of basketball, the ACC, and Duke is way down on the list. If we had never talked basketball or watched a Duke game together, he’d still be the best dad I could ever ask for.
Happy Birthday Dad, Go Duke!