There’s the sacrificial lamb. And then there’s the sacrificial fan.
I planned on being the latter. I trekked down to Cameron Indoor Stadium in Durham, North Carolina to see my Vermont Catamounts play the Duke Blue Devils. With a record of 1-4, the senior-laden Cats were under performing thus, so no one expected much of a contest.
Unfortunately, I’m hoping for a moral victory.
Courtesy Duke Athletics
However, a victory in itself was seeing a game in person at Cameron Indoor Stadium. With its wood-paneled doors and chrome railings, Cameron is essentially the Fenway of hoops.
Arriving in Durham just hours before the game, I immediately head over to Cameron, hoping to get a glimpse of, well … anything. When I get there, the door’s locked and a security guard tells me that the gates will open for students at 4:45 p.m. He suggests that I visit the Blue Devils Hall of Fame.
No, thank you. I’d rather get stuck overnight on a Stowe chairlift.
I’m here to see the Cats. Just after 5, a bus pulls up. I can vaguely make out green and gold, the Catamount colors, and I’m pumped. Abandoning my place in line, I charge the bus and spot the Cats’ head coach who’s heading inside arena.
“Let’s go Cats!” I yell, as a security guard blocks me. He’s smiling, so I must not seem too dangerous. I’m sitting in the Cameron nosebleeds, so this will be my and only chance for the Cats to hear my encouragement. “Let’s get this done!” I shout. I intend to inspire, as well as ironic. I’m referencing Duke as a mere scheduling mosquito that can be easily vanquished. In reality, this is how Duke perceives the Cats.
Following my outburst, Coach Becker continues to walk – but he also seems to smile. Just making this happen was worth the trip in itself. Coaches don’t smile enough. Like place kickers in football, everyone thinks they can do their job but few actually can.
As I head back to the line, I mull over the fact that security had to restrain me. It’s not too often that the Cats have to be protected from their public. Also, I’m amused at myself for becoming the fan that believes they can have an actual influence, however slight, on the game.
When I enter the arena, it’s empty except for the much-publicized Cameron Crazies, who are already at work, playfully harassing the Cats as they do their pre-game exercises. As I head to my seat upstairs, I reiterate to myself my dislike for the Crazies and take in this historic arena.
Cameron feels like the smallest 9,000-seat arena anywhere. Not an inch is spared. Everything is practically right on top of the court—no bad seat in the house.
The Crazies are chanting and gesturing with their arms. They particularly revel in holding out their arms straight out and waving their fingers. When a few hundred of them do this, it creates a nice effect not to mention a great photo op.
After tip-off, I brace myself for the inevitable: a blow out.
It doesn’t happen.
The Cats are playing well, living up preseason predictions that they’ll win their conference. By the way, it’s America East, not American East. Anyway, they’re spreading the floor, passing well and milking the shot clock like they got a contract with the Department of Agriculture. Most importantly, they’re hitting shots.
Well into the first half, Duke has a single digit lead, and a moral victory looks pretty possible. Now and then, Duke will hit a three or get a thunderous dunk and the Crazies will rock. Jabari Parker, the Duke freshman phenomenon, keeps his team on top.
While Parker is already a household name, the Cats’ leader is relatively unknown. However, Brian Voelkel just might be one of the the most interesting players in college basketball. First of all, Voelkel looks like an MMA fighter, and he does everything — except shoot, which he rarely does. When it comes to passing, Voelkel is a magician, threading the needle every chance he gets like he’s got a side gig at the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory.
At the half, the Cats are down eight.
Photo courtesy YouTube
Just like many old-school venues, the rest room situation at Cameron is weak. If you can, hold it! Fortunately, college basketball games are about two hours, none of this four-hour football stuff. Cameron concessions are standard – no sushi here, just pretzels and popcorn. Pulled pork sandwiches, which looked good, are as high-end as it gets. Regardless, when you come to Cameron, you’re here to watch hoops, not eat.
As the second half gets underway, I brace myself for a blow out yet again. But Duke can’t put my Cats away. In fact, late in the second half, the Cats actually take the lead. They’re up three at one point.
At that point, I become emotional — the protagonist in a bad beer commercial. I came for a moral victory, and instead I got a miracle. I’m just euphoric that the Cats are playing so well. Actually, they’re putting together a masterpiece for the ages.
In my fragile state, my feelings towards the Crazies become less harsh. I rationalize that they’re just nerds with a good team. And I beat myself up for not bringing a sign that says: “I’m not crazy! I root for the Cats!” I’m just not a sign person, and I don’t really do team paraphernalia after an unfortunate incident with several inebriated Albany Great Dane fans. Nothing happened, but I had bad thoughts.
Meanwhile, the Duke band, who I enjoy listening to, have resorted to drastic measures to distract the Catamount foul shooters. At one point, they pick up one of their fellow band members, a diminutive Asian woman, and hurl her back and forth as if they’re going to catapult her on to the court. This seems very wrong, but it’s also very amusing. She was smiling, so I guess there’s no harm, no foul or something like that. In another sequence, a band member pretends to act psychotic as band mates restrain him. Even the clarinet players get into it. They march down the baseline thrusting their instruments up and down. I’m not sure what they’re simulating.
While the Crazies and the band have been making a rumpus the entire game, the rest of Cameron, besides the healthy Catamount cheering section, is a relative library. At Cameron, the crowd is mostly mature and dignified. Translation: They don’t cheer much, or perhaps they save their vocal chords for North Carolina or NC State. Simply, these fans expect a blow out – and they should. At this juncture, Duke had won over a hundred straight non-conference games at Cameron. However, they just might be about to lose one.
With just under four minutes remaining and the lead see sawing, Cameron awakens. They’d come to witness a bludgeoning, a sacrifice. Instead, they’re in a rock fight nail biter. With under 30 seconds remaining, the Cats are down four. Again, miraculously, the Cats answer, hitting a three while getting fouled.
At this point, I heard a strange noise, angels maybe? Nah, the guy behind had a bad reaction to Duke’s popcorn.
Despite the best efforts of Duke’s band, we – yes, it’s we at this point sue me! — hit the foul shot. It’s all tied with 15 ticks or so remaining.
I can’t be quite sure. I’m delirious. We have to stop them on D – and we seemingly do. Duke drives to the hole and is stuffed, cleanly by Clancy Rugg. However, the ref doesn’t see it my way, calling a foul. With no one making a peep in ole Cameron, Duke hits one of two. We have five seconds to run the length of the floor and score. We do indeed get the ball in the hole on a running lay up.
Alas, victory! My footnote in college basketball history is secure.
I rushed the Catamount team bus and had to be restrained before one of the biggest upsets in college basketball history!
But something’s awry. As it turns out, time had run out before the ball went in. I didn’t hear the buzzer because when inspired Cameron can get really, really loud.
Duke wins, 91-90. I’m numb, very bummed.
However, I’m no sacrificial fan. Yes, I got my moral victory, but I’m not satisfied. I stick around. I chat briefly to Catamount legend Evan Fjeld, who is very gracious and without his trademark moustache. I also eavesdrop on Duke fans and listen to them grumble about the Catamounts.
Small victory.
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Jon Hart is the author of Unfortunately, I Was available. Illustrated by Coverkitchen.
