Why Does Everyone Hate Duke?
It’s a fact: everyone hates Duke. Unless you played for or attended the University, a true basketball fan has a deep-seated hatred for the boys down in Durham. It is a golden rule, a law of the basketball universe, one of the five pillars of basketball religion.
Sometimes I thought it was because of their repeated success. Let’s be honest, whenever you are on top, people pray for your downfall. Duke is a one of the most successful programs in college basketball. However, this is not the answer. Michigan’s Fab Five was successful, and everyone loved them. The UNLV Runnin’ Rebels were successful and they were embraced. The North Carolina Tar Heels, only eight miles away from Duke’s campus, are successful. Nobody hates them with so much passion.
Maybe it is the arrogance of Duke fans. It’s the presumptuous nature in which they cheer for their own blue devils, the way in which they mock the visiting team with such precision, such unison. A student section of preppy nerds, who know just what to say to get under the opposing team’s skin.
Perhaps it’s the clean-cut guys that they recruit. It is always assumed that the Dukies are model citizens – guys without checkered pasts, tattoos, or arrest records. They are thought to be players who respect the game, respect the university, and go to all of their scheduled classes – players who should be what college basketball is all about. Bobby Hurley, Shane Battier, Jay Williams are examples, just to name a few.
Maybe it’s the way in which they all slap the floor when making a run, a Duke tradition that has trickled down the ladder over the years. Nothing would sicken fans more then watching Steve Wojciechowski, Bobby Hurley or Jay Williams pull their shorts up, squat down, and slap the floor signifying that now they were ready to play.
Could it be their camaraderie? None of the players seem to have their own personality, just one unit. It’s the way they slap high fives with one another, the way they huddle up at the foul line on breaks of play, the way that the guys on the end of the bench wave their towels with such passion, such pride in the word D-U-K-E on their chest. How sickening.
Maybe it’s the college basketball hearts that they have broken. The way Laettner hit the shot against Kentucky in 1992 when the game was all but over. The way they stole Kentucky’s dream away on a day when they were pushed to the limit. Maybe it was the way Thomas Hill cried into our living rooms on that horrid afternoon with his hands above his head. Or last Sunday, when Virginia Tech’s upset win vanished on a heave shot from just over the half court line.
Or maybe it’s the way they get top-notch recruits year in and year out. It’s the way they steal cream-of-the-crop talent from under the noses of other universities and lure them to Durham to become part of the basketball factory.
It’s Mike Kryzyzewski’s whinny voice. It resonates in opposing fans’ ears like the nerd in the class that knew all the answers to the test, but wouldn’t share them. He had to have the glory to himself.
Everyone hates Duke. It’s a known fact. But somehow, in a sick twisted way, I think that every Blue Devil likes it that way.
