It’s March, which means North Carolina is entering its annual state of collective basketball delirium. Around here, college basketball isn’t a hobby; it’s a lifestyle choice, a personality trait and, occasionally, a relationship stress test. March Madness is basically our version of a three‑week festival; a time when loyalty is loud, opinions are louder, people start wearing school colors like a second skin and, in the air, there’s a feeling that something special is about to begin. Old friends reunite like it’s a college homecoming, new friends bond instantly over mutual hatred of a rival and families tailgate like they’re prepping for the Super Bowl. Say the word “tournament,” and suddenly everyone’s an expert, a psychic or a comedian, sometimes all three.

Being a fan of ACC basketball since childhood, growing up in Virginia, I recall there being limited television coverage in those days. If you remember Jefferson-Pilot, congratulations, you’re officially vintage. “Sail with the pilot” still echoes in my mind like a nostalgic ringtone. Many nights, my dad and I would hover around the kitchen radio and listen to Ralph Sampson and the Cavaliers against the world. Without visuals, every possession felt amplified. You had to lean in, listen hard and let the announcer paint the picture. No replays. Just voices, tension and imagination. You didn’t watch the game; you experienced it. And, in those days of Ralph, there was a high level of energy on hand for every game. There was another player named Michael who also played during that time down in Chapel Hill.

There were no 24-hour sports channels, no endless highlight reels or “SportsCenter Top Ten.” So, when March arrived, the TV became the center of your universe to witness the games in the only way possible, live. During school, there were routine score updates, whether it was teachers relaying the information or the principal advising during the afternoon announcements. For the lucky ones, there was the occasional free period where teachers brought a TV into the classroom specifically to watch the tournament. It was as if everyone understood we were witnessing something bigger than a game.

In my house, March Madness was a family ritual. I can still picture my mom leaning forward, cheering at the screen as we watched Jimmy V. and the Wolfpack win the 1983 National Championship. Everyone remembers Coach Valvano’s famous scurry through the ruckus on the court post-game, eager to find someone to hug. But, the real plot twist was the comeback. NC State was trailing. Houston couldn’t hit free throws. The Pack started fouling like their lives depended on it. One miss after another. Rebound. Bucket. Repeat. It was the slow burn thriller of all slow burn thrillers. The kind of sequence that would break the internet today. Then came the play that still shows up in every tournament hype video. The famous game-winning three-point shot/pass/dunk. Tension, hope and disbelief played out perfectly. It was chaos, it was heart, it was classic, cinematic ACC basketball.

I remember fondly many firsts related to March Madness. My first ACC game didn’t happen until I was a late teenager, but it felt like stepping into a world I’d been listening to my whole life. Duke vs. Carolina in the ACC Tournament Championship, and as luck would have it, just five rows from courtside, swimming in the middle of the Cameron Crazies. Who, by the way, do not sit down. Ever. They graciously adopted me like a lost puppy, taught me the chants, the choreography and, of course, the mischief. Then, to top it off, Duke won, and we stormed the court, and I got on the news standing behind Coach K as he gave his post-game interview. 

Though I got a late start, I made up for lost time. I traversed “Tobacco Road” including Raleigh, Durham and Chapel Hill. I visited Wake Forest (before I lived here), Clemson, Virginia Tech and my beloved UVA on many occasions. I’ve attended ACC Championship games and the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournaments for several years. Along the way, I met some notable legends of the ACC. The most notable include Ralph Sampson, Coach K and Christian Laettner. For ACC fans, those aren’t just encounters; they’re core memories. They’re the stuff you bring up unprompted at dinner parties. I loved how each campus has its own vibe, its own traditions, its own way of making you feel like you’re part of something bigger. Experiencing all this, and being able to share the experience with very special people in my life, provides incredible lifetime memories. Sports do that. They bind us to each other, to places, to moments we never want to lose.

Now it’s time to do it again. Here’s to buzzer-beaters, heartbreakers, bracket busters and three spectacular weeks of “March Madness.” Shout out to my cousin, turn on the game. I’m on my way.

(Note: My son originally loved Duke; he eventually transformed his allegiance to the Wolfpack, “Class of 2026)’.  

Musical Selection: Carrie Underwood – The Champion ft. Ludacris (Official Lyric Video)

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