Duke--The Most Hated Team In America (By Those Who Know Them)

Good ol' Dick Vitale never was much for unbiased opinions--especially any time he was in the booth to announce a Duke game. He was like people, who can't really play poker. You don't have to listen very long to understand his fascination with the Blue Devils and Coach K.

And if you do any research on the web, fans from the East Coast agree.

I've had times, when it was either the choice between having a stroke or throwing a brick through the TV screen, all times when he aired his views during play by play, particularly whenever Duke plays UNC. He also reveals his dislike for the Tar Heels.

The best picture I found online of Coach K was this adaption, showing the resemblance between Coach K and Count Chocula, although the actual picture of the latter looks more like the Duke Coach in my opinion.

During one game in particular, some ESPN announcers talked about the attitude the Duke Coach had about Chapel Hill, referring to his answer to a question during a press conference about doing business in any eatery in Chapel Hill, but when I think about it, just imagine the fun that any cook with a Tar Heel Blue point of view would have with that potentially delectable plate, so I guess I understand why Coach K would never eat at Chapel Hill. I don't have to like him to understand that. The same announcers also talked about Coach K's views before UNC games, the man knows trash talk.

Personally, I like UNC's Roy Williams. He seldom curses during a game. I've never seen it happen--not ever--but the man on the Duke end of the court often lets his opinion be known in terms less than gentlemanly, less than classy.

If he's going to represent the university that trains future Wall Street slimes, ambulance chasing lawyers and silver-tongued politician dudes, he should do better. I mean, really.

When I see him often on the sideline, the word that spews from his mouth is not Coach K talking about those North Carolina blue fire trucks, and those trucks are a pretty sight to see any time of year.

And as emotional as I often get at a game, I never use that word or hear others use it--at least not since I was 18 years old and in high school, where cursing was an art form perfected by farm boys, but those agrarian youths had a lot more class while shoveling dung than what Coach K has on the floor during most UNC games.

His athletes mirror his behavior too. I think the word "ape" his behavior is the better word.

The picture at the left is my favorite Photoshop that my son found on the internet. Dahntay Jones, John Sheyer and Matt Christensen are obvious favorites of the fans of several different universities besides UNC.

Matt Christensen, however, has one last picture that is my favorite. Maybe it's because I always had a fascination with that old Disney film about little people and a young girl with an outrageous vibrato.

I think it's the pose of Matt attempting to hit that high note that is especially appealing. I'm sure that Disney Park authorities were on alert.

It's not often when it appears that a Disney character passes a kidney stone while entertaining guests.

But if you're going to pass a stone, why not do it passionately. I mean really.

The final Christensen picture is one entitled Mattzilla for obvious reasons. I like it, because I watched those Japanese Godzilla B movies during the 60's. Seeing the picture made me realize that if Godzilla fights the Dukey, I want the lizard to win.

The time, when I saw those Japanese B films in my youth, was a magical moment; it was when you could buy great popcorn, cheap treats and sodas. It was a time when no one knew what "super size it" meant, so no one ever purchased anything that would result in a 15 pound gain while watching a movie. There was, however, an option for requesting butter on popcorn during those interesting times, but the large size was the same as the small portion today. Those memories of the past were of real butter too, not the "almost butter" type of thing, that in most cases, has more calories in a large bucket than we we had in bag available when I was young.

It was a time when refs called a player for a technical foul when they didn't raise their hand after a foul, and any "naughty word" meant being banned from the court for at least a couple of games. Coaches could see more severe consequences.

But they were times, when I don't remember thinking, that a particular coach looked like Mini Me or Count Chocula.

I can't explain why I feel like I do about Duke, other than I listened to some wealthy, Duke students talk with Today Show hosts once a few summers ago. It was during the show when interviews happen with the crowd outside. These students were the ultimate examples of snobbery, of ego, of elitism.

It's difficult for me to tolerate, even if someone earns it because of ability, but those young people felt empowered and entitled before earning a degree. They were better than 95% of Americans, because they felt they were.

It was irritating to me. It was maddening to me.

Ironically, we have a local team that traditionally had the Tar Heel colors. I really disliked them too, and I still do. A fan told me that they viewed the school as the "Harvard of the West." Wow! I always figured that of two particular institutions in Utah County--the Utah State Mental Hospital and BYU--there was only one requiring an individual actually to show improvement before graduation or before introduction into society. I imagine the whole introduction process like a "catch and release" situation. You open the cage. The person makes a mad dash.

Once while sitting in the stands during a game against my beloved Utah State, the Cache Valley fans began chanting the traditional chant they used: "BYU, BYU. . . where the girls are 'perty' and the boys are too." It was the fall of 1971, and I found myself sitting among the Cougar faithful repeating the words.

I attended BYU because of a girl, and I married her too. For those who don't know her or haven't met her, I still think she's "perty," even "pertier" now than all those years ago, and following her to Happy Valley was the best thing I did in my life. The fact that I went to school there for two semesters meant that I "really" loved her.

I hesitate to mention following my Sweetie like I did in these times of political correctness. I guess someone might term that as stalking, but I was a hunter, and I beg to differ, I wasn't hunting my Sweetie. I was just . . .well, I was just waiting for the right time to begin dating her again.

It happened, and I married her, the best thing I did in my life.

I look to finish this post the way I started it: showing a great picture of Dick Vitale at the left and Coach K on the right. I'm not sure, what player sits between them, but it doesn't really matter, because I wouldn't like them anyway, so since I don't know the person's name, we'll just call the picture Napoleon Dukomite. Besides, the one in the middle looks dumb. IT fits.

Coach K is "creepy and he's kooky, mysterious and spooky," and all three are "all together ooky." They're the Dukomite Family.

Regardless what team you love, locally or nationally, what would sports be without rivalries like this?

I mean, really. "You gotta love it, baby!"