This week's column.
Way back when, during my junior year in Chapel Hill, the phone rang one night in my dorm room.
It was Dean Smith.
The coach of the Tar Heels had called to answer a few questions for a story I was reporting for a campus magazine.
Frankly, I hadn’t expected the callback. But here he was, much more gracious than you’d expect from a Hall of Fame basketball coach granting time to some faceless English major writing an article.
Why didn’t Carolina schedule historically black Division 1 basketball schools in the state, such as N.C. A&T? I asked. Smith didn’t hesitate.
“The fact is, we don’t schedule any other schools in the state other than ACC schools,” he said. “We’ve got enough rivals as it is.”
He was right; that was the policy at Carolina in the 1970s, although it has long since been dropped. And Carolina does tend to get every opponent’s "A game."
But I wonder if he even suspected then that one of those in-state rivalries would grow to far overshadow all the rest.
That conversation came to mind as I previewed the new HBO sports documentary, “Battle for Tobacco Road: Duke vs. Carolina.” The one-hour film debuts Monday at 9 p.m. and hits nothing but net in its depiction of the hot-blooded enmity between the two neighbors . You name it, they’ve got it:
• Footage from memorable games.
• Interviews with J.J. Redick, Charlie Scott, Grant Hill, Eric Montross, Christian Laettner, Woody Durham, Jay Bilas, Michael Jordan and even the Durham barbers who cut Duke and Carolina players’ hair.
• Spicy recollections of the testy relations between Duke and Carolina coaches, including the time Duke’s Mike Krzyzewski told Smith to Dick Cheney himself.
For any Duke or Carolina fan, this documentary is a mother lode of hoop dreams. But it does make me a little wistful.
I attended Carolina for six years, counting undergraduate and graduate school. And I got to see my share of classic games in old Carmichael Auditorium — Maryland Coach Lefty Driesell hefting his fist at the crowd and vowing revenge after a narrow loss on a controversial noncall.
An N.C. State player with the soulful name of Al Green, hitting free throws after time expired to beat the favored Heels.
But as a student I never saw Duke-Carolina in person, even watching the famous eight-points-in-17-seconds comeback game (March 2, 1974) from my dorm room while folding laundry (major bummer).
I (theoretically) saved the trips to Carmichael for the biggest games. And those usually weren’t Carolina-Duke. At least back then.