Halloween -- although the adorable kids came through the dorm last night, so it doesn’t really feel like it. In the lobby before breakfast, I flip to the Sports section of USA Today, in case some little blurb about Davidson basketball shows up unexpectedly like it did a couple of weeks ago.
Hm, there’s a lot of red on the front page of Sports today. Wonder what --
WAIT. WAIT. WAIT.
STOP. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSODASHOP -- ?
I tug, and the pages come whooshing out.
It feels kind of like walking into the 900 Room before Maryland, being jarred into a weird little 2-hour surreality where I see familiar faces starring on national television. But somehow this is a little different.
Number one, we haven’t done anything yet.
And number two, we’re not … we’re not moving.
This is not a channel you change if you don’t like what’s on. This is not a name you hear through air on the street and never think of again. This is a nationally syndicated newspaper that is sitting in offices, schools, on doorsteps and street corners … Today, millions of people have NO CHOICE except to stare at these resolute, unwavering faces, these red jerseys, these boys all piled into a very recognizable wooden corner, not a mile from where my feet are planted. I could get there in three minutes, easy. The Soda Shop, the second place I ever ate in Davidson, with its oldies rock and hardwood booths and paper cups with cold ice water and onion-y burgers dripping with soupy blue cheese and ketchup. Black and white pictures of basketball teams hang on the walls, a quiet tribute to passing history (and the age of short shorts). The Soda Shop, on the front page of a section in USA Today.
AT DAVIDSON, HOOPS, BOOKS COEXIST.
I’m sorry, WHAT?
This is too much, this is too -- makes it pound harder in my veins than it ever has even though I know all the facts, I know the challenge, I know the possibility, I know …
They’re not moving.
LOOK AT US.
Comments?
No comments:
Post a Comment