*&%#

First thing's first...for those concerned (and yes, I have had inquiries), Eric is still with us...he didn't jump last night.  The Carolina loss to Duke was a painful one...and now one I wish I hadn't stayed up past my bedtime to attend.  Actually, for 39 minutes and 59 seconds, it was a very enjoyable game.  Ah, but it only takes 1 second to ruin a perfectly good evening.

This week, it is my turn to write the "First Person" column for my writing job, where I can basically write about anything. I had started the article earlier but had to amend it after last night's events.  Enjoy...or if you're a Carolina fan, just read.

A new rule was recently enacted in our household.  With the birth of our first child, I figured it was a good time to clean up the language and cut out the cursing.  Although our son is not yet talking, I reasoned that it might take a year or so to come anywhere close to complying with the new house rule, so an early start would be judicious.

My husband was mostly accepting of this mandate but insisted that a clause be added to the new legislation.  The new addendum allowed for cursing during one very specific event: a Duke basketball game.

There is no mistaking that my husband is a Carolina fan.  After a big Carolina win, he’s giddy.  However, I would have to argue, not as giddy as he is after a big Duke loss.  It sometimes seems that he cheers harder against Duke than he does for Carolina.  His actions during the second half of a close Duke game are telling.  He is usually 1) standing in front of the TV; 2) yelling at the TV; and 3) pointing at the TV.  His cell phone is frequently buzzing with calls from his Duke-hating friends making sure Eric’s tuned into the game.  When Duke is winning, he sounds like a drunken sailor, and I have to put on my mental earmuffs.  When they’re losing, the phone conversations come eerily close to the ones I had in junior high with my girlfriends with a lot of giggling and high-pitched squealing.

Don’t get me wrong, I am also cheering against the Blue Devils, but generally in a more civilized fashion.  I know the refs will not hear me when I scream that Scheyer flopped.  And Coach K probably won’t listen when I tell him to take a seat on the bench.  I generally keep such commentary to myself, rather than acting like a volcano erupting at each offense.

Passion was a gift given to the one I married…self-control was not.

Whenever my husband comes home and says “<insert team> is going to do it tonight,” I don’t have to check the schedule to know that Duke must be playing.  There has been some celebrating in our house this year.  The Temple game is one he predicted accurately, despite my warnings of getting his hopes up too high.  The night of the FSU vs. Duke game, our dinner plans were pushed back so we could watch the ending.  For some reason, our food tasted better that night.

But then there was Wednesday.  I’m not sure even the most creative mind could have drawn up a worse-case scenario.  It hurt.  It still hurts. For most of us fans who call ourselves Tar Heels, any loss to Duke hurts badly.  But this one was so much worse.  It’s bad for us, but for players like Tyler Zeller, who left his heart on the Smith Center court, it is soul-crushing.

 You’ll be reading this almost a week after the sordid affair (unless you're reading this on my blog), and you’re probably sick of it.  If you don’t already have the image of Rivers draining the last-second three permanently imprinted on your brain, simply turn on the television.  Or pick up a newspaper.  Or stroll past the office of your Duke friend co-worker.

But there is good news.  We will play them again, and soon.  The next meeting will test the true character of this Carolina team.  While the loss may have brought on the feeling of emptiness that accompanies a NCAA tournament loss, the truth is the season continues.  March is coming and with it comes a renewed sense of possibility and hope. 

Hope.  That’s a four-letter word worth repeating.