This past weekend I made my way down to Durham, North Carolina for a business school interview. I purposely scheduled the interview for a weekend that Duke had a home game so I could make an attempt at viewing my first basketball game at Cameron Indoor Stadium. I arrived on Friday morning, an hour late because freezing rain kept my connecting flight in Baltimore grounded for an hour. The delay caused me to miss my scheduled tour of the school, but I was able to sweet talk the girl in the admissions office into squeezing me into the later tour. (Actually, there was no sweet talking necessary. When I asked if there was another tour later that day, she confirmed that there was and threw me into it without any effort on my part.) During the tour I met another life-long Duke fan who had never attended a game and intentionally scheduled his interview weekend to coincide with a Blue Devils’ home game. This guy is from Wisconsin, and of course is a Packers fan, so in true MFH fashion I reminded him about the Giants NFC Championship Game victory in Green Bay. While the two of us discussed how great the Super Bowl was, another prospective student from Boston joined the conversation with his opinion on the Super Bowl, which needless to say was not quite the same as mine. He then began to gloat about the Red Sox being the reigning World Series Champions and their relative superiority to the Yankees in recent years, until I politely interjected that I am a Red Sox fan. The disappointment on everyone’s face when they realized they were in the presence of a man, who not only was much cooler and better looking than them, but also was able to celebrate the most recent World Series AND Super Bowl Championships, was priceless. Despite our differing allegiances in the NFL, my new friend and I came together on the fact that we had to find a way to get into the Duke basketball game the next day.
Our tour guides were first-year MBA students, and when we asked them about the possibility of getting into the game, we were met with a laugh, followed by, “good luck.” Only slightly discouraged we proceeded to a weekly Friday evening gathering of the MBA students that included free food and beer (they know how to appeal to MFH). Unfortunately, we were unable to procure any good advice on how to get tickets to the game, but I was able to impress some nice female students with my New York charm.
Saturday, after our interviews, my new buddy and I put together our plan for the game and purchased some tailgating materials. About an hour and a half before game time we ventured up towards the arena looking to buy tickets for no more than $100 each. The first thing we noticed was that there were significantly more people looking for tickets than there were looking to unload them. The first scalper we approached was a fat mess, who, although the temperature was in the mid 50s, was sweating through his dark-blue tee-shirt. We asked the elephant how much he wanted for two, and he came back with, “What are you offering?” I resisted the urge to say, “___” and instead told him we’d give him $60 apiece (for $35 face value tickets). The great beast let out a hearty bellow which angered me a little and this was the rest of our exchange:
MFH: “Well how much do you want for them?”
Fatso: “How much are you offering?”
MFH: “I just told you what I’m offering you didn’t like it. What are you looking to get?”
Fat Ass: “What’s the highest you’re willing to go?”
MFH: “$75”
(Fat guy just laughs again)
Wisconsin: “How much do you think you’re going to get for those?”
Kool-Aid Man: “At least $200 each”
MFH: “For St. Johns!!? Get the F#%K out of here!”
So we headed for the front of Cameron, blowing off the couple other scalpers we saw who were asking about $150 per ticket. We parked ourselves in between the students line and will-call, hoping to find a better deal. We still had about an hour before tip-off so we sat back and took in the atmosphere, along with some adult beverages. The pregame festivities were a little tame. Granted, the game was against St. Johns, but still, considering the undergrads have to camp out for tickets to each game, I would expect a little more excitement leading up to game time. I also noticed, once again, that there were a hell of a lot more people looking to buy tickets than to sell them, and as an economics major I can tell you that leads to very high prices (that’s four years’ worth of a quality SUNY education right there). Just as I began to think that I may not be able to get a ticket for under $100, a nice older woman came up to my new friend and I, and asked us if we needed a ticket. When we asked how much we were blown away by the answer: “$35.” “Absolutely,” I replied. We decided we’d buy the ticket from her and then do Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who would get it. She warned us that she didn’t want the ticket resold, she would be sitting in the seat next to the one she was giving us and she had better see one of us there. We reassured her that there was no way we would part with the ticket and completed the transaction. Then the real excitement began: a best of three R-P-S to claim a ticket at face value, with no guarantee that the loser would even be able to acquire another ticket.
The butterflies began dancing in my stomach as I loosened up and began to concentrate on the task at hand. All those years of practice had come down to this one—an all-important best of three match. We settled in, face to face, and the crowd in the background all blended into a rainbow blur. I was in the zone. I came out firing, throwing an unorthodox scissors to open. The move paid off as he threw paper and I took an early 1-0 lead. On the next throw we both threw rock, followed by another rock from me and a paper from him. We were deadlocked at 1, with the next round set to decide it all. I could see the nervousness in his eyes as I remained cool under the mounting pressure. We came out with a paper each. Then we each threw rock. What to do now? One…He hadn’t thrown scissors all match, and I didn’t see him going to a new move in such an important spot. Two…He did seem to find comfort in paper, never going two throws in a row without it. Three…plus he caught me in back-to-back rocks in the last round and that must still be fresh in his head.
We spent another half-hour trying to get him a ticket, with him pausing every five minutes to remind me, “You really got lucky.” Lucky that the nice old lady offered us a $35 ticket? Definitely. Lucky to be the one holding that ticket? Not a chance. That was all skill, baby. Finally with about fifteen minutes to go until tip off, Wisconsin was able to score a ticket for $75 (it was a better seat than mine). We quickly finished off our adult beverages and rushed inside.
Inside Cameron was much different than outside; the small arena was buzzing with excitement. After a little searching I found my seat…all the way in the corner. It actually wasn’t that bad; Cameron is so small, there really isn’t a bad seat in the place. As soon as I sat down and looked out over the court, a huge smile crept across my face. The atmosphere is indescribable. It really is something you have to experience for yourself, and if you are a college basketball fan I strongly, STRONGLY urge you to do so. The entire crowd is way into the game, more so than I’ve seen anywhere else, and that includes Penn St. football against Ohio St. The student section is amazing. I know the Cameron Crazies look nuts on TV, but it’s even wilder in person. One reason is that even during time outs (EVERY time out) the crowd stays involved, interacting with the band and/or cheerleaders. I have never seen a group of fans, especially one so large, have so much fun at a sporting event, especially one that isn’t hammered. The Crazies stayed involved for the entire game. Even when it was a thirty-point blowout in the second-half, they were just as loud, and just as amped. There’s not much to say about the game itself— Duke won handily. The experience, however, was amazing.
After the game, I met back up with Wisconsin and we headed out to a barbeque for MBA students and prospectives. After some good food and more free beer (did they know I was coming or what?), went out to a few bars with the students, where I watched the only chick I was interested in the whole weekend spend the entire night with some goofy looking little dweeb. I guess the South really is different than the North. I got back to my hotel at 2:30, not happy with the prospect of waking up at 4:30 to catch my flight home (which was spent in first class because that’s just how I roll; not that I’d be able to tell you how that was because I slept the entire time).
Being a life-long Blue Devil fan, I am incredibly happy that I was finally able to experience a game at Cameron Indoor— it was a thrilling experience. And whether I end up attending business school at Duke or not, it’s a memory I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life. It doesn’t matter if you love Duke or hate them, every sports fan should try to catch a game at Cameron, you will not be disappointed (unless, of course, you go there hoping to see some hot cheerleade
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