Explaining the UNC-Duke rivalry in a hater's eyes

TO THE EDITOR:

The condition of hating Duke is a mysterious illness that plagues most of Chapel Hill's residents.


I must admit that witnessing J.J. Redick cry on his senior night a distant three seasons ago still outweighs the pride I feel while swaying to Hark the Sound.

Much has been made about the close proximity of the two campuses" but how many Duke students do you really know?

You know the Duke stereotype. They lurk in their Gothic towers with gargoyles silently watching overhead; they study the hours away while being surrounded by impenetrable forests in a setting much like M. Night Shyamalan's ""The Village.""

When the Tar Heels come to town" the Cameron Crazies emerge from their fortresses ready to show their wit and humor with their blue-plastered bodies and smurf-like faces.

I've lived in Chapel Hill for three years and I know zero Duke students and one Duke graduate.

He works at Chili's.

Sorry Duke it's not jealousy or our proximity. It's not some dying sense of inferiority to your golden calf called money.

No it's that hair.

Another round of Just For Men hair color threatens to turn coach Mike Krzyzewski's head into a spiraling black hole.

It's Greg Paulus tossing elbows on the floor and drawing retaliation from opposing players to the joy of the Cameron Crazies.

It's the floor-slapping cat-scratching defense that draws the praise of Dick Vitale.

It's those future doctors lawyers and businessmen waving their knobby ink-stained hands in the face of Danny Green.

It's we the people against corporate America — the ones that made bailout the new Watergate in pop culture terminology.

It's Roy Williams Dean Smith and No. 23.

Jacob Swiger
Junior
Journalism