2017 NATIONAL CHAMPIONS
I WAS THERE:
FRANKLIN STREET
“
BY KENT BARLOW, MORRISVILLE, N.C.
We were absolutely frantic the day of April 2. A year earlier, my wife and I were prepared to watch the national championship game with a group of friends at the Hampton Inn, just off Franklin Street. Needless to say, that game did not end as intended. This year, we had booked the same location a week prior to the championship game, just in case the Heels made it to Monday night. However, the words of Woody Durham kept ringing in my head: “Go where you go, and do what you do.” In 2005, we were students and watched the game from Granville Towers. In 2009, we made our way back to Granville Towers, through the help of a friend. This year, it wasn’t going to be possible to get into Granville...but we could get as close as possible. At the last second, I decided the risk was too great to frequent the same location as 2016. We cancelled our reservation and frantically began searching for a restaurant on Franklin that could accommodate our party of six. Top of the Hill? Booked. Mellow Mushroom? The line began forming at 8 a.m. that morning. The classic pull of collegiate loyalty and employer obligation began their tug of war as Monday morning dragged on. Finally, I received a text message from my wife that West
24
BORN & BRED
June 2017
End Wine Bar would begin taking individual reservations at noon. I hustled over on my lunch break. Then the waiting game began. The re-run of the CavaliersPacers game from Sunday night was on the television, and there was time spent in debate over whether Kyrie Irving’s appearance on the screen was an ominous sign for UNC. Ultimately, the decision was made that JR Smith’s inclusion on the Cavaliers roster was enough to counteract the side effects of Kyrie’s Dukie-ness. The rest of the time until 9 p.m. flew by--a blur of nervousness and text messages to assure that everyone was in their correct place. Go where you go, and do what you do. Just before tip off, another UNC fan entered the bar with a friend decked out completely in Duke gear. I still wonder to this moment what kind of mental state one would have to be in to 1) have a Duke friend and 2) feel it appropriate to bring them to Franklin Street on the night of a national championship game. As the game tipped off, every UNC basket was a wave, covering the bar with new hope and much needed oxygen. Every Gonzaga basket drew back toward the horizon of 2016, and the inevitable “not again” feeling we had all been trying to ignore. At halftime, the score stood at Gonzaga 35, UNC 32. The Duke fan in a sea of Carolina Blue was elated, and let everyone know it. In the immortal words of Billy Madison, “At no point in (his) rambling, incoherent response was he even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is dumber for having listened
