North Carolina has always been my personal nemesis. Ever since I was a little boy growing up here in Charlottesville, the Tar Heels seemed to always find a way to snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat. Virginia could be up by 12 with three minutes to play at home in a hoops battle at U-Hall and somehow, miraculously, Carolina would find a way to win. Or, perhaps more astutely, the Hoos found a way to lose.
October 19, 2002 ended up being one of the more important days in my UVA fan history; one of those days that sports taught me a real life lesson. My girlfriend at the time was a recent graduate of the evil, baby blue empire down there in Chapel Hill; a very bright Morehead Scholar, she worked in Virginia’s athletic department in her first job out of school.
While settling in to our seats in Craig Littlepage’s box, we were talking a little bit of trash about our respective schools. I’ve been lucky to know Coach Page since I was a little, smart-assed kid going to Terry Holland’s summer hoops camps. Every year since Scott Stadium has had suites (2000), Craig has invited me to a game as his guest. In all those years UVA is a perfect 8-0.
Before I knew it, Jawarski Pollock (great name) caught a pass and the Heels were up 7-0. Fast Willie Parker was running the ball with authority, and on the next possession Sam Aiken caught a 77-yard pass to put Carolina up 14-0. My great mood went straight into the toilet.
I’ve always been a slightly neurotic Virginia fan: not too cocky when we were winning, not an arrogant jerk when we were losing. But on this particular day, I just sat there stewing. Not talking to anyone and behaving like a real stick in the mud. Next thing you know another Carolina touchdown had them up 21-0 at the half.
As the second half began, my girlfriend said to me something to the effect of you are acting like a child. We are beating your butts and you are behaving like a four-year-old and embarrassing me.
Her father was a very well-respected high school football coach in North Carolina, and she had been around a lot of football. I looked at her with amazement since I was 9 years older than she was, and tried to shake it off. As the second half began Marquis Weeks ran the kick-off back 100 yards for Virginia to make it 21-7. As folks around us were celebrating I could barely muster a smile. The South’s oldest football rivalry was getting interesting again.
As Virginia started to mount their comeback, I sat there nursing my beer and thinking of what my girlfriend had said to me. The Hoos scored again in the third quarter to make it 21-14 Heels, and my humor was still not improving. The Tar Heels did not score a point in the third quarter, and Virginia scored 23 un-answered points in the fourth quarter to make it 37-21 Virginia. Carolina scored a late touchdown and missed the extra point to have the game end-up with Virginia winning 37-27. As much as I wanted to snap out of it I couldn’t do it. I felt sick to my stomach as we walked out to our tailgate. Virginia fans everywhere were celebrating with bourbon and general craziness. Not me.
I learned several important lessons on that beautiful 50-something degree Saturday in Scott Stadium. You must win with class and lose with dignity. Never get too down and always understand that sports is life. No matter what happens in life something good is coming right around the corner. You only have one chance to make a first impression and if you are sitting there pouting, feeling sorry for yourself than you are in fact a loser.
As much as I loathe all things Tar Heel, life is too short to act like a four-year-old, spoiled brat. No matter what happens on the field of sport try to enjoy what you are witnessing on some level or just don’t go at all. Go Hoos and beat our only REAL rival this weekend in Chapel Hill. I’ll be there…Will you? Please tell me your North Carolina stories, both terrifying and great.