.png&width=36&height=36&type=webp)
University of North Carolina Athletics
Lucas: The End
March 6, 2005 | Men's Basketball
March 6, 2005
By Adam Lucas
The end was going to be all wrong.
There was no way Jawad Williams, Melvin Scott, and Jackie Manuel could go out with a loss. It was not possible. It was not part of the script. It just wasn't right. Don't you understand? They were not going to get to shed happy tears, not the kind that are supposed to flow on Senior Day. They were going to be frustrating tears, tears that make you want to punch a wall.
There it was on the Smith Center scoreboard. Duke 73, Carolina 64. The Tar Heels had played 17 minutes of the second half and had 17 lousy points to show for it.
What about the postgame speeches? How are the seniors going to revel in the adulation that should rightfully be theirs when they've lost their final home game? It is not right. It does not make sense. It made you want to break something, made you want to ball up your paper and fire it into a corner somewhere where it would sit, undisturbed, for days.
This can't happen. Not today.
And then Jackie Manuel is missing a shot, and then Sean May is missing a shot, and then Jawad Williams is tipping it back in. 73-66 Duke, 2:40 left. A low buzz, barely a murmur. It seemed so unlikely.
Except in the Carolina huddle, where the head coach was telling his team something simple: "Believe."
"Me personally, I just, I don't know, you know when you get that feeling like everything is supposed to be right on this day?" David Noel said. "You find some way to get in a drought but it always turns out right? That's the feeling I had. And that's the feeling the team had when we came out of the huddle."
But still there was so far to go. Seven points in 2:40 against a good foul shooting team, against a team that was doing most everything right. Seven points. It seemed like too much.
Then, a Duke turnover. Raymond Felton did not seem particularly hurried. He knew.
And then it all became a rush. Two free throws for Marvin Williams and Sean May getting a three-point play and Felton missing a leaner and Noel knocking the ball away and the Heels getting a timeout and then Felton missing a free throw but tipping the ball to Marvin Williams who made the shot and you can't hear the whistle because it's so loud but then you realize he was fouled! and you are high fiving someone you don't know and they are giving you a hug and you don't know them but yeah it feels pretty good and you have just noticed that you can't hear anything.
And then Redick. Why has it got to be Redick? Why does he have to be taking the shot? The ball stays in the air forever. Shouldn't this be against the rules? Should he be allowed to shoot a helium-filled basketball? Really, is it ever going to come down?
You know what this means. You know that the ball finding the net would be a crusher, would instantly cause 21,750 people to go silent. Redick has said before, this is what he loves. He likes to hear crowds go quiet on the road.
This crowd is not quiet. This crowd is watching the ball bound off the rim, watching Sean May rebound Daniel Ewing's last-second follow shot, watching ushers hold their arms out to their sides in a vain effort to keep a mass of humanity from emptying onto the court.
This crowd is thinking that this ending is exactly right.
Be honest. At that very moment, you felt like jumping as high as you could and also felt like you wanted to sink to your knees. Pure jubilation and pure exhaustion.
That is how Jawad Williams felt. After Roy Williams had cleared the floor of happy students (the words, "This is Senior Day, and we're going to do it the right way!" have a magical effect), after every senior had gotten a snip of the regular season championship net, after Sean May had walked over to every cheerleader and dance team member and shaken their hands, Jawad Williams had to sit down.
His teammates were celebrating around him. His home career was ending. Four years, 62 home games, losses to Hampton, Davidson, Ohio. From virtually the same spot where he sat, Jason Capel beat Binghamton with a three-pointer.
Now this.
"I just had to reflect for a minute," he said. "I remember coming in here and losing to Hampton and Davison, just beating Binghamton. I had to reflect on everything I've been through since I came here."
They did address the crowd, did soak in the cheers that seemed like they would never end. The current Tar Heels and the coaching staff took a seat to watch their seniors say farewell to people who have watched them fail, succeed, and grow over the past four years.
"I'd like to thank the coaching staff for helping me find myself," Jackie Manuel said.
That's when those tears came for the head coach. That's when Roy Williams had to wipe his eyes.
Assistant coach Joe Holladay walked out of the Carolina locker room after the game with a broad smile. He kept it simple. He did exactly what most people did after this game--looked at people they knew and just shook their heads. No words. Just a smile and a shake of the head.
But then he added two quick sentences.
"Can you believe that?" he said. "You couldn't write a book with that ending."
The end.
And maybe, just the beginning.
Adam Lucas is the publisher of Tar Heel Monthly and can be reached at alucas@tarheelmonthly.com. His book on Roy Williams's first season at Carolina, Going Home Again, is now available in bookstores. To subscribe to Tar Heel Monthly or learn more about the book, click here.
