Oh loyal and voracious Chronicle readers, it is with a heart full of trepidation that I announce an interruption in your regularly scheduled Friday Friday article. Alas, a big change is underway in Friday Friday’s life. After a lot of consideration, I have decided to transfer to another university.
Which school stole my heart and persuaded me to leave Duke? Well, lovely readers, turns out that when I originally chose my college, I missed the mark by a mere 9.6 miles. Indeed, effective immediately, I will be transferring to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
You may be wondering what possessed me to transfer to Duke’s rival. Why would I leave the hallowed halls of Perkins and the transparent glass facades of, like, 12 buildings? Truly, it was myriad factors, but ultimately, I had to follow my heart and become a Tar Heel.
Which brings me to my first motivation for leaving: the revered Tar Heel mascot. To understand the significance of the Tar Heel, we must think about the purpose of a mascot. The mascot should be an entity for the student body to rally around, one that represents the spirit of the student body. When I am cheering from the student section, I want to be rooting for a mascot that inspires me, that strikes fear into the hearts of my team’s opponents. After a lot of soul-searching, I realized that Blue Devils aren’t a mascot that embodies fervor and action, so instead I wanted to be represented by the worldwide symbol of enthusiasm, athleticism and pride.
A sheep.
Of course, I also had to consider the traditions of UNC. Namely, I just can’t wait to drink out of a watering fountain that has seen the mouths of thousands of other students and alumni. And we thought Duke had a flu problem! Hopefully, sharing saliva with my peers will extend beyond drinking fountains. I mean, the party culture at UNC is just so much better. Who wouldn’t want to spend their Saturday nights walking aimlessly down a crowded street and ending up at the hottest spot in town: the 24-hour CVS Pharmacy.
An important part of the Duke-UNC—sorry, the UNC-Duke—rivalry has always been the debate between which school has the better shade of blue. The answer, clearly, is UNC’s baby blue. It’s the color that drags you back to that time in middle school when your mom took you to a baby shower and everything was blue but you couldn’t eat a cupcake until your aunt opened all her gifts, but you didn’t care about the Cybex Priam Lux All-Terrain Stroller, you just wanted the damn cupcake.
Plus, there’s no denying that the UNC’s men’s basketball team’s extra pizazz comes from the beautiful argyle design on their uniforms. During a game, there’s nothing I enjoy more than that pattern reminding me of classic American textile designs. It really takes me back to good ol’ days of UNC’s founding, when argyle-wearing, slave-holding white men sent some of the school’s students to die for the Confederacy. What’s up, Silent Sam!
UNC’s status as a world-class university really grabbed my attention. No other student body can compare to UNC students’ commitment to their education. Who wasn’t inspired by the video of Luke Maye showing up to class the morning after he scored the winning shot against Kentucky in last year’s NCAA tournament? There is nothing more touching than seeing a university student doing the bare minimum.
UNC’s reputation is consistent regarding their student-athletes; there are so many scandalous incidences that there’s no longer an uncorrupted area on their record. It’s a constant I can always rely on, to know my team’s education exists through some rip-off Platform 9 ¾...and that my team probably can’t read the books to which I just made a reference.
No argument about the UNC-Duke rivalry is complete without a discussion of their basketball programs. First, it’s important to bear in mind that UNC is the reigning national championship team. Second, who wouldn’t want to be a fan of the team that is coddled by the NCAA? Who doesn’t love a team that doesn’t have to be held accountable for their actions? There is no better feeling than cheering for the Tar Heels, while knowing that my team epitomizes college basketball corruption. Man, it feels good to be number one.
So, my former fellow students, it is with a clear mind I say farewell. Soon, I shall be in a better place, decked in light blue, from head to Tar Heel. I will be leaving the lackluster Cameron Crazies for the Dean Dome student section, where I will not have to live in tents or battle to the death in a peasants’ walk-up line, but instead enter my email into a lottery, miss the game and end up watching it on my phone while roaming around that fluorescently-lit CVS. What a genuine expression of school spirit.
Oh! One more thing:
Go the hell Carolina.
Friday Friday is a satirical column that runs on alternate Fridays. Friday Friday has been painted in Duke blue paint for days now, and is starting to develop a rash. Friday Friday would also like to remind students that they are a volunteer fire marshall and will be prepared with buckets of tears spilled over Quenchers closing in case potential bench-burning fires get out of hand on Saturday.
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Friday Friday is Monday Monday’s off-brand satirical cousin. Look out for Friday Friday on Tinder, and Friday Friday would like it to be known that they are available for frat rush date functions.