University of North Carolina Athletics
Lucas: The Wait Is Now
December 22, 2015 | Men's Basketball, Featured Writers, Adam Lucas
By Adam Lucas
“You're not quite as miserable as I thought you'd be.”
My wife and I were sitting outside eating dinner in Los Angeles, because that's what you do when you're in Los Angeles. It was March 26, and a Boys II Men concert was about to start just across the street.
But of far greater relevance to our world, the 2014-15 Tar Heels had just found the end of the road at the hands of Wisconsin in the NCAA Tournament regional semifinal.
Our waiter was from Winston-Salem, so he somewhat understood our mood. But as my wife was well aware, there is no rational explanation for my mood when the basketball season ends. She had been there in 2014, when I nearly had a physical altercation with the Creighton Bluejay. The Tar Heels had just had a meltdown against Iowa State, and the Bluejay mascot proceeded to revel in the loss, waving goodbye to an entire section of Carolina fans.
I didn't handle it well. Because, you know, Creighton is Creighton. You understand.
So one year later, she was surprised that although I wasn't exactly serene, I at least wasn't ready to put a fuzzy mascot in a headlock. You take maturity where you can get it, I guess. In 1987, I cried when Syracuse beat one of my favorite Carolina teams of all time in the regional final, ending the Tar Heel career of my favorite player ever, Kenny Smith. In 1998 I stormed to the bus and did not speak for two hours after Carolina lost to Utah in the Final Four (freaking Utah!), ending the season for one of the most fun Tar Heel teams of all time.
So there was reason to believe I might not be the best dinner companion after Carolina's 79-72 season-ending defeat. And yet, there I was at Ford's Filling Station, semi-enjoying a white cheddar bacon biscuit.
Thus her comment: “You're not quite as miserable as I thought you'd be.”
She meant it as a compliment. I think. But she was right. I wasn't really as miserable as I thought I'd be, either. Not because of what had just happened—Carolina had a chance to beat the Badgers. But because of what was to come: the Tar Heels had virtually everyone coming back, and 2015-16 had the chance to be special.
That March night, it felt like November and December would never get here. There was too much to be excited about. There was a senior Brice Johnson and a senior Marcus Paige and the progression of a talented freshman-turned-sophomore class and quality junior post players when we all know how Roy Williams loves his post players.
So I try to remind myself of that feeling on nights like this. You know the kind—the 94-70 wins over Appalachian State that are never really in doubt, when you wish maybe the TV timeouts were a little shorter and the only drama in the building is biscuit-related and what if I just wrapped a few presents during the game to multi-task. By this time next week, when Clemson is about to come into the Smith Center and open ACC play, you will be hard-pressed to even remember the score of this game.
But last March, I would have been thrilled to fast-forward to December 21 and find out that Joel Berry II was turning into the kind of player who can put up 11 assists while also defending the other team's best player (helping limit Frank Eaves to 5-of-13 shooting). But it was more than just the stats—it was the instincts Berry showed early in the second half. The sophomore was dribbling in transition and realized all the Mountaineer defenders had their backs to him. That's a Ty Lawson move—Lawson used to say when he saw the backs of jerseys, he knew he could go straight to the rim. And that's exactly what Berry did, accelerating to the rim and scoring to make it a 19-point lead.
They're fun to watch because everyone is capable of making a point-worthy pass at almost any time. It's completely contagious. At one point in the second half, freshman Kenny Williams, who could be forgiven for hunting a made three-pointer in his limited minutes, instead made an extra pass from the corner to Nate Britt on the wing for an even more open three-pointer.
“That's where our chemistry comes in,” said Isaiah Hicks by way of explaining why the Tar Heels are the type of team that regularly distributes assists on more than 60 percent of its field goals, the second-highest ratio in the ACC and a very high percentage for a team that plays at such a quick tempo.
This—this otherwise forgettable game—is exactly what I was salivating over in March, and it's exactly what made the end of that 2015 season at least palatable. It was only because this—what we're watching right now, right down to the last Kanler Coker should've-been-and-one bucket off a sweet feed from Toby Egbuna—was around the corner that last March was bearable.
It's about the journey, Roy Williams will often tell you. It's really easy to start thinking about that first ACC game and there are some tough road games in January and when does Duke come to town and have you seen the latest Bracketology, but it might be a lot of fun getting there, too.
These types of seasons, with experienced skill and likeable players (a manager at a local steak house recently told Roy Williams the Tar Heels were the most impressive such group the steak house has ever hosted) and the right mix of veterans and young talent, take years to come together. It's OK to enjoy them just a little bit when they happen, because the alternative to 20-point December home blowouts is December close home games and trust me, those are no fun.
You know those seasons we wait for? The ones where things come together and the NBA doesn't suck away players at inopportune times and all the pieces are there? Even though you wish they defended a little more consistently and one more shooter wouldn't hurt and injuries need to stay far away, this is one of those that we're watching right now. That makes absolutely no guarantee of how it might end. But it means there's a reason to hope, real and legitimate hope, which means these next four months are worth savoring.
So, yes, maybe these December games can get a little monotonous. But it's a lot better than being miserable.
