Late Night with Roy has long signaled the beginning of basketball season. It's the first time students, alumni and fans get a chance to cheer on a new team. More than that, it is, as emcee Kenny Smith (UNC '87) said, a perfect definition of what it means to be "Born, bred and dead."
Of course, being "Tar Heel born, Tar Heel bred, and (when I die) TarHeel dead" is distinctly characteristic of the nation's first public university. But the idea seems to apply at almost any institution of higher education.
That's a lot of pressure. It's got me wondering: is attending a school for four years, cheering on their teams, and receiving a diploma really enough to make you "born, bred and dead"?
I applied to 10 universities. I had no idea where I would end up, and I really hadn't planned on UNC. I had lived in North Carolina for a total of five (non-consecutive) years when I applied, and I wasn't sure that my bond with the state was quite close enough to justify attending their first university.
My parents went to a small school in Kentucky, and I cheered for the University of Kentucky at sports events -- UNC, if and when pressed on the issue, but my hatred for Duke was derived primarily from the UK rivalry.
I just didn't feel like I was Tar Heel born, or Tar Heel bred. But I chose the school for the fantastic academics, the nationally ranked sports teams, and (let's be honest) the fact that their school color -- never to be called "baby blue" again -- happened to be my favorite.
And somehow, I ended up screaming at the top of my lungs, "I'm a Tar Heel born! I'm a Tar Heel bred! And when I die, I'm a Tar Heel dead!"
In just two months, I had already started bleeding blue. How did I end up here?
Some people have a clear trajectory for how they ended up at a school. They know exactly when they became "born, bred, and dead."
I have friends whose parents met in college and raised their kids cheering on their team and hearing stories of their school.
I know people who went on their first college tour and fell in love.
I've met people who were between two schools and decided the one they chose was the better option on a whim.
Some people only applied to one place -- they were going there or not going at all.
I have friends who got a better scholarship or had the opportunity to play a sport if they chose one school over another.
Then there are people who applied to 10 schools and ended up at the one they least expected.
A year ago, I was convinced that the most stressful time of my life would be submitting college applications and receiving acceptance or rejection letters. It seemed like my whole life hinged on what my reason would be for choosing a school.
The thing is, it doesn't matter what the reason is that you ended up somewhere. The magic of it all is that once you get there, all of those reasons for going stop defining you.
Your reason becomes "Because I'm born, bred, and dead."
