Tarheels and Blue Devils: Bitter Rivals in the Home

I hate my wife.
Usually it is only between December and the middle of March. She’s not a problem all those other months, but in that particular time frame, I hate her.
It started when we got married. I loved her. I loved her so much back in those days before we said “I do.” We already had one child, wanted to have another sometime in the future, and we got along perfectly. But you don’t always know people, no matter how much you think you do. You see, it is perfectly fair to have secrets in your life, but don’t be surprised when someone close to you finds out. She had one of the worst secrets in the world.
She is a Tar Heels fan. I’m a Duke Blue Devils fan.
You folks here in South Carolina can understand. What if you were a Gamecocks person? Close your eyes. Imagine going to bed with that significant other, and as she gets ready for bed, she puts on a large, orange T-shirt that prominently displays the words “Clemson Tiger “on it. Go ahead, get your barf bag, and throw up. When you get done, continue to read the story.
There I was, the fall of 2000, gettin’ all riled up about my Blue Devils. I had a winter jacket, sweats, old shirts, a history of fanaticism going back to 1988. Although I like watching football and basketball, I don’t obsess over particular teams except this one. And I had been since ’88 and well after I met my wife in ’95. What does this mean?
This means she had plenty enough time to tell me that she liked the rival team! She willingly, purposefully, withheld this information until the fall of 2000, as I got riled up about my Blue Devils playing in some preseason tournament. She walked by the T.V. and said something under her breath.
“What was that. honey?” I asked, being the attentive and loving husband that I am.
“I said ‘I hope they lose’.”
Silence. Those words really hurt, like a Harley fan selling his hog for a cheap rice-burner. I was hoping to hear “just kidding” soon after that, and just have a good laugh, because husbands and wives should be comfortable enough like that to joke and pick. But I didn’t hear those words. Not even an apology for saying such things!
And so it began. “How could you?” I asked. “How could you root for them? Don’t you know they are the enemy in MY house?”
“OUR house. And Duke sucks.” This was just getting worse. We argued throughout the night. And day. And every game night. It didn’t matter who Duke played, she was for that team. It isn’t that my wife watches basketball like I do. She just has this Carolina pride to her, and that is what her High Heels, I mean Tar Heels, have always stood for in her eyes. Not even her sister, who went to N.C. State, could sway her.
“But honey, Duke is in North Carolina, too, and they’ve actually won championships recently.”
“Yes, but ever since that Christian Laettner incident, I can’t stand them.”
“Duke is Number One!” my daughter would yell. That was a good girl. Daddy’s girl. She even learned to say “Carolina is number 2.” I loved her so much! I loved being able to teach her right from wrong at such an early age in life. But, as with every child, there comes a time for rebellion. It happened sometime last year. She thinks she’s a woman now. She thinks she’s all grown up and can make her own decisions. She thinks she knows everything. If I say the world is round, she’ll prove it flat. If it’s square in my eyes, it’s a rectangle in hers. And if I like Duke, well, the other teamâÂ?¦ I can’t even say it. What happened to my little girl? Why rebel against me, her father, at such a young age? No woman should ever hurt her dad, even if she’s only six. My damn dad had something to do with it, too.
I do have a son and he hasn’t been swayed. He’s going to bleed Duke blood. He’s going to know the history of Hill, Brand, Hurley, JWill, Dunleavy, Boozer, and so many more. He will know what a hated genius Coach K is. He’ll be able to spell Krzyzewski’s name backwards. He will know what it’s like to lead, to champion, to play with pride and as a team. My brother is a big Duke fan. He’s got 2 boys. His wife is from Cali, so she don’t care either way. The numbers are in our favor!
But if those damn Tar Hillbillies win another championship, my beloved son may become a momma’s boy. It has hurt bad this year. I will give my other half some credit, though. She has done some unthinkable things to make me happy. For every morning that a “Duke Loses” headline has been thrown into my face, she’s gone above and beyond what a normal wife would do.
While I was deployed to Europe, my wife ordered a Duke University catalog. She ordered me 2 shirts and a key chain. One of the shirts is even evil in nature. It says “Do the Math! Duke > Carolina.” When I got my new car, she ordered a license plate, a license plate frame, and a sticker for the back window. She says she did it out of love, but I just think she did it so all the haters can easily identify and harass me. I get harassed by the cops on my base all the time. But that’s ok. The catalog still comes in her name. My sister-in-law and her husband liked me enough to buy me a Blue Devils picture frame two Christmases ago. I was so excited to see it arrive. But when I opened up the box, they had inserted into the frame, “Go State!” on one side and “Go Wolf Pack!” on the other. I don’t like them anymore, either.
One time, the wife lost a fierce bet and had to wear one of my shirts out in public. Yes, I took pictures. She thought she’d get away easy by wearing it in the car on the way home from a road trip. But we made a couple of stops. I knew my kids’ microscopic bladders were good for something! We also had to stop to do some grocery shopping. I was never a more proud husband.
And I’ve been a good husband. So far I’ve purchased a key chain, 2 shirts, one hat, a car sticker for the van , and even another shirt that says “Peace, Love, and Hate Duke” on it. Her team did win a championship this year, so I might as well pony up. She is my wife, after all. I do love her very, very much.
Then again, it isn’t December yet.