Lucas: Missing

By Adam Lucas

Let me be honest about two things before we begin.

First, this story is not really about basketball. Carolina beat North Carolina Central, 73-67, on Saturday, and there is plenty of analysis of the win here. But that's not entirely what this story is about.

Second, everything in this story is a first world problem in every way. These are minor details. Millions of people are dealing with much more serious circumstances on a daily basis. Everyone acknowledges that.

With that in mind, I miss you.

Saturday marked Carolina's second home game in the Dean E. Smith Center under the current COVID-19 restrictions. There should have been 20,000 people in the building. Franklin Street should have been bustling, with Christmas gifts flying off the shelves in Chapel Hill Sportswear.

Instead, announced attendance was zero. There might have been 100 people in the stands.

I miss the electricity in the arena before tip-off, with dozens of fans crowded around the hardwood to take a picture of Garrison Brooks going through warmups or the Tar Heel logo at the corner of the playing surface.

It's December 12, so I miss Carolina blue Santa tossing candy into the crowd. I miss the presentation of the colors. I miss "Jump Around," and being fully aware that I am much too old to bob my head to the song but simply not being able to help myself.

I miss seeing 81-year-old Charlie Jones at his usher post at the entrance to the Carolina tunnel. Charlie has worked at the Smith Center every single year it's been open (plus two at Carmichael, if you're wondering).

I miss sitting with my wife and whatever combination of our kids could fit the game into their schedules, and their deliberations over whether they're going to get Dippin' Dots or Ben & Jerry's at halftime (how anyone could select Dippin' Dots in that choice is inexplicable to me, but one day they'll grow up and see the error of their ways).

I miss Janis Matson on the floor under the basket nearest the opposing bench. It is possible you don't know Janis, but if you have been to a game at the Smith Center, you have seen her. Let me see if this helps you: for many years, when I attended games as a fan, my family knew Janis as "Sarge," and frequently remarked that an opposing coach or two (Lefty, we're looking at you) might benefit from a stern lecture from Sarge.

I miss Roy Williams tossing t-shirts into a crowd of rowdy students. I miss the rowdy students, period. I miss the way they fill the risers early and the way they're loud without being obnoxious, and have fun without being choreographed. The dozen or so opportunities they get to walk across campus and be part of a Smith Center crowd are highlights of any college student's year. That's been taken away from them.

And I miss the fans who aren't students, too. It's cool to talk about the wine and cheese crowd, but you will find some of the most loyal fans in sports in those seats. You will find fans who have missed family reunions and weddings and maybe even a funeral or two because those events conflict with a Heels game. My parents are in those seats. And my dad was heartbroken when I told him there wouldn't be fans at these games. "I'm really going to miss it," he said.

I miss all those Smith Center ushers who help make gameday a once in a lifetime experience for so many people, who take the pictures with the court in the background and conveniently look the other way when a kid slides into a closer seat with a couple minutes left in a blowout and motion to Rameses to come take a picture with someone who has driven for hours—or days—to be inside the building for these two hours. I miss Vicki Wilkins (usher supervisor) and Donna Cox (entry B supervisor), who make sure the ushers understand how important their job is, and who make sure the ushers conclude their pregame meeting with a rowdy, "Go Heels!" cheer before the Smith Center doors open.

I miss fans in the stands pointing to the Tar Heel who made an assist, and responding with a roar to Roy Williams' double-fist fighting stance when Carolina needs a defensive stop. I miss Caleb Love and Day'Ron Sharpe and every Tar Heel freshman knowing what it's like to walk out of the tunnel to be greeted by kids pleading for their autograph and nothing but blue shirts as far as their eyes can see.

I miss the fact that you haven't even seen the new intro video that precedes every announcement of the starting lineup at the Smith Center. I miss the energy off of which a very young team would likely thrive.

I miss the parking and the traff...uh, maybe not just yet.

I miss Darrick Woods walking Roy Williams onto the court, and JD Dubis keeping watch over the visiting coach. I miss every kid who would have gone to their first Carolina game this year. They'll get to go next year, but they'll never be this exact age again. And somewhere there's a kid who won't be this perfect age next year, because this year he or she would have been amazed just to be in the same building with their heroes, and that one afternoon at the Smith Center would have started an entire life of building their life around Carolina basketball.

I miss the "I am a Tar Heel" video promoting the Rams Club, and the way that Michael Jordan somehow manages to be the coolest person even in a video featuring people well accustomed to being the coolest people in any room they inhabit. I also miss the way you can occasionally catch the opposing fans seated behind their team's bench pointing and taking the occasional picture when Jordan appears, and the way they try to inconspicuously gawk at the jerseys and the banners.

I miss all of you, really, who couldn't be here. I miss the people who are so passionate that when given the opportunity to purchase fan cutouts in the Smith Center, spent hard-earned money to buy cutouts of dogs and cats and even one horse, because why wouldn't their beloved pets want to enjoy the Tar Heels the same way their human best friends do?

No one knows when. But eventually, we're going to get back in this building together. We're going to lock arms and sing the alma mater and we are going to chant, "We want biscuits!" and we are going to storm the dadgum floor.

Carolina fans are underappreciated. And this year, they are missed.

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