The Start of Something Good

Two weeks ago marked one of Duke’s most time-honored traditions: the start of basketball season. But instead of the annual Blue-White game, the athletic department decided to try something new. In addition to the intrasquad scrimmage that students have grown accustomed to, Crazies entering Cameron Indoor Stadium were met with the University’s own version of Midnight Madness—starting at 7 p.m.!—called Countdown to Craziness.

Next to Krzyzewskiville, an enlarged video board counted down the minutes and seconds until the season started. Inside, hoards of freshmen made their inaugural march to the student section. Duke University Improv came out and performed a sketch about the Blue Devil mascot coming down with H1N1. They then showed a video where the players had to find jobs, as their season had been canceled because the Blue Devils were too good for other teams. Jon Scheyer was asked if he wanted to play quarterback for Syracuse. Steve Johnson served the “Sweaty Johnson” protein shake at Quenchers. Seth Curry was told he couldn’t find a job for another season, per NCAA rules. It was all in good fun.

Then, after waiting for more than two hours, a crowd of anxious and excited students cheered as the team stepped onto the court in front of a sea of fans for the first time since last spring. Ryan Kelly, with his tall, thin frame, to the tune of “Iron Man.” Brian Zoubek, of a newly bearded visage, to “Baby Got Back.” And Scheyer, the last of the Blue Devils to enter, to a recording of The Killers singing, “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier,” befitting the heart of the new-look squad.

Finally—after enduring the lines, skits, lights and waiting—the fans witnessed their team play its first game of the season, and the event began to lose steam. For an hour, the Crazies performed an exercise in awkward cheering. Do you cheer for a block, or express your sympathies for the guy who just got stuffed? When Lance Thomas draws a hard foul from Kyle Singler, do you chant, “You, you, you” at your own team’s best player? The lack of heckling and applause made for a surreal scene. Perhaps, though, the Crazies were just confused—they were without cheer sheets for the game. (Oh, how easy it is to miss the good ol’ days of spontaneous cruelty, when a player accused of plagiarism was greeted with cheers of, “Where’s Olden? At the copy machine?” and when Steve Hale, after suffering a punctured lung, had to hear “In-Hale, Ex-Hale” all game long.)

Hearing the Crazies struggle through unoriginal and lackluster cheers was disheartening. And, frankly, when I walked through the doors of Cameron—flashing a press credential and wading through the sea of humanity preparing to pack themselves like sardines in the bleachers—I wondered why Coach K and the athletic department spent huge sums of money on what amounted to be a glorified practice session, albeit one followed by a performance from those two hipsters who pranced around Times Square nude in that music video. (I’m told their names are Matt and Kim.) Surely the three national championships, 15 current players in the NBA and Krzyzewski’s recent status as savior of Team USA would be incentive enough for wide-eyed youngsters to spend the next one to four years competing for our amusement in the nonpareil arena.

Despite what Malcolm Gladwell says about the faultlessness of the snap judgment, mine was wrong. Very, very wrong.

The fact is, the entire celebration was well-done and impressive and, really, much more right for the program than the previous years’ Blue-White games. Maybe it was the dunk contest, in which Nolan Smith stripped off his jersey and shorts to reveal a Johnny Dawkins throwback, complete with short shorts. He lost, but by then, it didn’t really matter, precisely because of the other charms on display.

Even Josh Hairston and Tyler Thornton, recruits from the class of 2010, noticed. When they walked across the court with the house lights down and the specially-made spotlights hanging just below the retired jerseys going wild circling the hardwood beneath them, the awe on their faces was obvious.