University of North Carolina Athletics
Lucas: Tears in Heaven
March 5, 2006 | Men's Basketball
March 5, 2006
By Adam Lucas
There was a time not too long ago when it looked like the signature image from this 2005-06 basketball season was going to be David Noel sitting in front of a cramped locker on the road trying to wipe away his tears.
That was the scene in Charlottesville. How long ago was that? The calendar says 44 days ago. That cannot be possible. It was longer than that. Do you even remember it? Virginia 72, Carolina 68.
Fast forward one and a half months. It is completely silent in Cameron Indoor Stadium. There is not a sound. No "Let's go Duke!" No "Go to hell Carolina, go to hell." No "Our house." Just silence. Of course, you are still shouting because you've had to scream at the guy next to you the whole night. What were you saying? Who knows? Who cares?
The scoreboard still says Carolina 83, Duke 76. That is not enough. What it should say is this: Too young, too under-talented Carolina 83, senior-dominated, homestanding on senior day for one of their greatest classes ever Duke 76. There is not room on the scoreboard for all of that. That should be fixed. Immediately.
Outside the Carolina locker room, a throng of reporters has already gathered. They are waiting for the go-ahead to dash in and begin their postgame interviews. ESPN sideline reporter Erin Andrews taps her foot and says, "Can't they hurry? We've got SportsCenter here."
SportsCenter is nice. Really, it is. Roy Williams and Tyler Hansbrough will eventually come out and talk to her. They'll enjoy it, especially Hansbrough, because everyone back home will be watching and they'll see his face and call into the kitchen and say, "Come in here! Tyler's on SportsCenter!" That will be a neat moment.
But right now all that can wait. Right now Carolina can't hurry. Right now SportsCenter couldn't be less important.
Right now on the other side of that locker room door, the Tar Heels are jumping around in their usual postgame victory mosh pit. It is complete pandemonium. Roy Williams addresses the team and then, still in their uniforms, the players have a couple minutes to collect themselves before the media enters. This is David Noel's first victory ever in Cameron Indoor Stadium. He has led his team to a 21-6 regular season record, 12-4 in the ACC. He has turned what was supposed to be a ragtag group into one of the most memorable Tar Heel teams ever. Behind that locker room door, alone for just another few seconds, this is what he does:
He cries.
Have you ever been so happy that you cried? Is there a more powerful human emotion? Imagine it--being so happy that you just can't control yourself, and then tears are running down your cheeks. Imagine the sheer joy that must well up inside your body to cause that reaction.
Maybe you don't have to imagine it. Maybe you experienced the same thing. Maybe you watched the game on Franklin Street or in your dorm room or with your dad or in your den with the kids asleep (until you woke them up when you shouted, "You are the freaking man, Bobby!") and found, when Tyler Hansbrough was hugging Noel when the clock hit 0:00 right on top of that newly-signed Duke "D" at center court, that you were giddy and shouting and all of a sudden the tears were running down your cheeks.
Maybe you did that. So maybe you know how he felt. We should all get the chance to feel that way, someday. We would be lucky to do that.
Luck, though, has nothing to do with this team. Luck has nothing to do with Quentin Thomas taking the ball inside on uber-defender Shelden Williams and laying the ball off the glass for Carolina's first lead. Luck has nothing to do with Bobby Frasor lining up a couple huge second-half three-pointers, letting them go, flicking his wrist, and dashing back upcourt before the ball was even halfway to the rim. He didn't have to watch the flight of the ball.
He already knew.
This team knows something, too. Roy Williams drew them in tight before the game. This is what he said:
"The only people who know we have the potential of winning this game are right here in this locker room."
Not "think" we have the potential. "Know" it.
Maybe that is why Marcus Ginyard suddenly has turned into the defensive wizard everyone thought he could be, why J.J. Redick finished 1 for his last 16 against Ginyard's harassment. The freshman from Alexandria will get significant credit in the days to come for his defensive job on the Blue Devil superstar. He deserves it. But consider this. Duke trimmed Carolina's lead to 77-74 with 1:41 to play.
If you could have been in Cameron Indoor Stadium at exactly that moment, it would have felt very familiar. It would have felt exactly like the Smith Center last year as Carolina mounted their terrific comeback against Duke on senior day. Remember how that felt? Remember how you stood there and thought there was no way that this group of seniors could go out this way? Remember how a comeback just had to happen? You didn't know how or when or who, but you knew why: because that's how it had to happen.
That's how it felt in Cameron. That's why it felt like Duke was making a run, why it seemed like they were about to send their beloved seniors off with a monumental comeback. That's just how sports works.
I want to tell you about a beautiful 10 seconds of basketball. I am sorry that this is so long, but I can't possibly go to sleep. So you have to relive this moment with me. You have to remember this terrific example of basketball. Not by a superstar. But by a team.
Duke comes down the floor and runs a play to get Redick the ball in the corner. If he gets the ball, he is going to strip the net. That is what he does. He is going to catch it, jump, use that hair trigger release while you're yelling, "Nooooo!" and then the ball is going to go straight through and it's going to be tied.
That doesn't happen. Ginyard is guarding Redick, and Demarcus Nelson sets a baseline screen. Redick twirls around the screen, trying to get Ginyard caught in traffic. He heads for the near corner.
Danny Green steps out. No room there.
So Redick circles around, goes out of bounds beyond the baseline, and uses a double screen. By this time Ginyard is about six people removed from his man. Redick bursts through and is headed for the opposite corner. This is it. This is daylight.
David Noel steps out. No room there.
The senior trails the opposing senior all the way to the corner, stays with him, and eventually forces Sean Dockery to throw up an errant shot that is promptly gobbled up by Tyler Hansbrough.
I could watch that play endlessly. Tomorrow, I probably will.
"I don't even want to try to figure out why we're playing so well," Quentin Thomas says. "It's just a blessing that this group of guys could come together at exactly the right time for this season. This team, we just stick together through everything."
There was a time not too long ago when it looked like the signature image from this 2005-06 basketball season was going to be David Noel sitting in front of a cramped locker on the road trying to wipe away his tears.
And now, maybe it is.
Or maybe there is more to come.
Adam Lucas is the publisher of Tar Heel Monthly and can be reached at alucas@tarheelmonthly.com. He is the coauthor of the official book of the 2005 championship season, Led By Their Dreams, and 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 Going Home Again, click here.
