Kent (Space) and Annie (Jam) are the writers of UNC’s premier (only!) satirical advice column. Results may vary.
As two graduating seniors, Kent and I were obviously around for both the 2017 National Championship and the 2016 thwarted National Championship attempt. We’ve seen basketball triumphs and defeats. We’ve lost friends and gained enemies. We’ve killed. We’ve wept. We’ve gotten weirdly excited about Justin Jackson’s engagement.
Full disclosure: Kent has never actually been to a UNC men's basketball game. He tries to go to one a year, as any more than that feels unnecessarily draining for both his soul and complexion. The Smith Center is really far away. And all the clapping gets tiring. Regardless, make no mistake: we like basketball. It’s inescapable, really, is what we’re saying. Like the plague or something. Anyway, here are some lessons we’ve learned about basketball.
- Our freshman year, UNC almost won the National Championship and then tragically lost due to a last minute “buzzer beater.” (Basketball lingo.) In the moments before the game took an unfortunate turn, Marcus Paige made a cool shot and everyone freaked out, jumping up and down, summoning ancestors, etc. Kent and I’s mutual friend, Nick, turned to us during the happy pandemonium and said, “Um, guys, I think I broke my ankle?” We roundly ignored him. We are basketball fanatics. Physical injury is nothing in the face of a good basketball game. Several seconds later, the game did a quick 180 and Villanova won. Suddenly, we realized that Nick’s ankle had swelled to the size of a grapefruit. We expressed appropriate concern and took him to Urgent Care. Moral of the story: forsake your friends if UNC is doing well on the court. (Writer's note: After a peculiar, yet satisfying detour to the Harris Teeter parking lot, Kent took Nick to the ER; Annie was mysteriously absent.)
- Luke Maye is a great basketball player. We at YAFI love him. But even more than his basketball prowess, we love that picture of him wearing a hat. We also enjoy his meticulously groomed sideburns. They are sexy and they nicely complement Luke’s bone structure.
- Rushing Franklin Street is sort of like voluntarily squeezing yourself into an elevator with 15 other people, knowing full well that said elevator will get stuck for at least 20 minutes. It is so crowded and so scary. A girl tried to CROWD SURF over me on Wednesday night. Don’t worry, I instinctively shoved her stupid, leaden body away from myself and yelled at her.
- You know the drill: oversized Jordan jersey; black leggings; adorable giggling face; large man uncomfortably grimacing as jersey-ed person sits on his shoulders; “It’s a GDTBATH” or “Born, bread, dead.” Try a new pose. We recommend lying facedown on the street, screaming continuously as people carelessly trample your prone body.
- Examples include: “We need stronger defense in the paint;” “Someone get the ball to Luke, in the paint;” “Just take it slow, games are won in the paint;” “Someday, I hope to be buried — in the paint.” This will demonstrate your superior knowledge of basketball strategy and is guaranteed to impress and intimidate those around you. A win-win.
- Don’t trip on the small stuff! (Forgive the pun, hehe.)
- I like to casually throw around totally unforgivable, wildly overwrought insults during basketball games. Some examples include: “May we not stop until the streets of Durham run red with the blood of every Duke man, woman and child!” While looking at a Duke player: “I curse the day you were born! Go back to the hell that you came from, son of Satan!” (People clap hesitantly.) After UNC makes a point: “That’ll teach you, you literal pieces of pond scum! I hope Duke is struck with a terrible plague!” (Nearby people look confusedly at each other, like, “What?”) This does the double duty of proving my allegiance to UNC and instilling fear in my fellow basketball watchers.
- Kent, in his sweet, benign ignorance, found himself partaking in the momentary bliss of a mini-veggie deluxe burrito last night, completely neglecting the harsh realities of such foolish fodder. Kent has a most gentle constitution and is a devoted connoisseur of delicate, polite foods like eggs, spinach, broccoli and avocado. Kent awoke this morning to find his body could not handle the extreme excitement of a UNC victory and a cosmic burrito. Kent is sick.
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