Duke: My First True Love.

By DeQwan Young
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Updated: March 26, 2015

March 28th, 1992. NCAA Regional Finals. My birthday party that year was at a small restaurant in New Jersey called The Chowder Pot. There was one small television in the back of the restaurant, showing 2 teams playing in a game that kept my attention in a way that few other events had ever done before. One of the teams had a player by the name of Jamal Mashburn. Mashburn was a devastating perimeter player. He had a mid range game that was among the best in the nation. He was deadly off the dribble, played in the post, could stop on a dime and hit 17 footers with ease. He could do everything a superstar player at the University of Kentucky should be able to do…and more. The one thing he couldn’t do, however, was stop Christian Laettner. I realized that as I was watching the game, I was becoming a Duke fan in a way that would be as unrelenting as Laettner was that night. Every one of Laettner’s shots, of which he missed none, was followed by fanatical cheers that I had no idea I had inside of me. Every single free throw that he took went in. Every layup, jump shot, and dunk was finished with flawless precision. He was unstoppable in every way. I could care less that he was probably the most hated player in the country. It didn’t matter that he stepped on the chest of a Kentucky player and played as though it didn’t matter; I was a Duke fan, and I didn’t care who was angry. I look back and remember every one of the 31 points that Christian Laettner scored that night. Most people remember the last 2….when he took that long inbounds pass from Grant Hill (Moment of silence for torn ligaments and broken bones everywhere), dribbled once, faked over one shoulder and nailed the game winning shot as time expired, but I remember them all. I remember hating Jamal Mashburn because he was unstoppable on the other end of the court. I remember EVERYTHING.

Fast forward to today, and as we are on the verge of a spot in the Elite 8 when we play Utah on Friday. A game that has nothing to do with that one in 1992; I will again channel that little 7 year old boy who fell in love with The Duke Blue Devils. I felt the pain of losing to Lehigh and Mercer. Mercer! Lehigh, and Mercer. Even typing them makes me want to boil myself. I look up and down this roster and find it difficult to temper my excitement. I find it insulting when people do not feel that we can handle the athleticism and sheer talent of Kentucky. I will talk myself into the possibility of making one of those amazing National title runs and squaring off against the Juggernaut known as the Kentucky Wildcats in another epic clash. I have always believed in Duke. I believed that J.J. Redick would win a championship and not just be arguably the best Duke player to not win one. I was as devastated as anyone when Duke lost the 99 title game to a UConn team that was not as good as we were. I rejoiced at the greatness of Shane Battier and Jason Williams. I loved Trajon Langdon for his perfect jump shot and hurt inside that he couldn’t play defense. I loved Greg Paulus and Cherokee Parks even though they were terrible basketball players. I hate UNC in a way that all Duke fans should. I understand the thrilling joy of victory, and the ache of defeat that being a Duke fan comes with. I will always remember the Austin Rivers shot to beat North Carolina. I will remember the comeback vs Maryland in 2001. I will always love Duke irrationally, because that day in 1992, on my 7th birthday, will always be the day that sports made sense, and love of sports became necessary.

Tomorrow I will be on Twitter talking about every play, every missed and made shot, and every point in the game that brings me joy or pain. I will love Duke as much tomorrow as I did then, and no matter the outcome, everyone will know that I am a fan.

Twitter: @aceboogie07

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