T he waiting is the hardest part. A cruel game of, “Will they, won’t they?” The Wainstein report has shed light on some of the darkest corners of the University — some hidden on purpose, some where others dared not peek.
The self-flagellation was necessary for the healing process to begin, but now, the ball is no longer in UNC’s court. The wait is on. How will the NCAA respond?
There has been talk of employing the seldom-used “death penalty,” which forces us to imagine life at UNC without sports. The NCAA absolutely should punish UNC for its unethical actions, but to misquote Patrick Henry, “Give me sports or give me death.”
Some might argue that the importance of sports in our society often has destructive repercussions, that it is what led to the problems that plague this University time and time again. They’re not completely wrong. Sports can be tragically overvalued, and that can lead to dark places. Recently, a Utah high school quarterback received death threats after his fumble lost a playoff game.
But there is also a certain camaraderie that is exclusive to sports. It’s there when thousands of students, pumped full of adrenaline, rush Franklin Street after the basketball team beat Duke for the 133rd time in history.
No one cares who you are in the revelry of a post-Duke celebration. You’re not black or white. You’re not Christian, or Jewish, or Muslim or Buddhist. You didn’t grow up in poverty or wealth, or in a city or the countryside. For those few wonderful hours, you’re hugging and kissing and high-fiving anyone and everyone you see, because you all are one thing and one thing only — Tar Heels.
When I think of home, I think skyscrapers, family and the Braves. When I think of my Dad, I think of church-league basketball and three-hour Sunday phone calls spent commiserating about the Dolphins.
When I think of UNC, I think the Old Well, Franklin Street, going hoarse in the warm Smith Center on a brisk winter night and sweating buckets in the student section at Kenan on a blazing fall afternoon.
