the National Championship tome

I know this has been wildly anticipated, and it has certainly taken me some time to process it all (not that one week is even enough) but I do want to preface this monster of a post by stating that NOTHING I say can truly do justice to exactly what winning a national championship means.

but I feel obligated to try.

mainly, I want to emphasize the fact that this was not just a dream come true, but the dream come true. This is what I have lived for. I know I tend toward hyperbole. This is not hyperbole.

This is the culmination of a long journey. A lifelong journey. Born to two die-hard alumni, perhaps I am no different than a lot of Tar Heel fans. But "destierraed" (sorry, sometimes I just think Spanish words, even when translated to English, do better to capture an idea than the English ones do themselves. In this case, "desterrar" means basically to "un" (des) "land" (tierra), aka exile. The Spanish word brings about a concept that is just more poetic and resonates more, IMO).

Anyways, being "destierraed" in Colorado probably played a vital role in lighting the fire to my crazed being. With my parents as my heroes, and sports a constant part of their lives (and my childhood), it comes as no surprise that I formed an early attachment, bordering on obsession (it quickly blossomed beyond that), to the Tar Heels. Whether it was staying up late to watch tapes with my dad in the basement or gathering in high states of nervousness with the whole family to watch the '93 championship or simply my Carolina blue-dominated wardrobe, I loved the Heels. And with nobody else around -- we're talking Colorado, people -- to gauge my fanaticism by, I went incredibly overboard. Even far surpassing that of my parents. And I'd never even stepped/set (I just learned you could use either one, thanks google) foot on campus, mind you. But I was a Tar Heel born, and sure as heck Tar Heel bred, and with a love burned deep into my eternal soul, nothing was going to stop me from being a Tar Heel dead.

So the dream, like every Tar Heel-crazed youth, was to actually play basketball at UNC, obviously. To play under that cornicopia of hanging jerseys on that hallowed court for the best program in college basketball. That defined everything about me.

Through the 8th grade, I was set. Then, quite abruptly, I realized I was slow, white, and couldn't jump. And nowhere close to good enough. But my goals didn't change (I was far too invested for that). So I just altered my ticket. Academics became my new route to the homeland. And, through the grace of a world usually unkind, I made it here.

Insatiable, I was greedy enough to dream for more. Any national championship would fit the bill, but the absolute ultimate would be one while I was a student. That was firmly pressed up against the wall of all things dreamable.

Mar. 18 NCAA: Oakland Charlotte, N.C. W, 96-68
Mar. 20 NCAA: Iowa St. Charlotte, N.C. W, 92-65
Mar. 25 NCAA: Villanova Syracuse, N.Y. W, 67-66
Mar. 27 NCAA: Wisconsin Syracuse, N.Y. W, 88-82
Apr. 2 NCAA: Michigan St. St. Louis, Mo. W, 87-71
Apr. 4 NCAA: Illinois St. Louis, Mo. W, 75-70

The University of North Carolina Tar Heels, 33-4, National Champions

man, that looks good, doesn't it?.

It actually happened. We won. I went to Franklin St. I jumped over fires. I was with my brothers in blue. And the next day I was in the Dean Dome to welcome the Champions home (just as I was there for every single game not just this year, but the past three). I watched my heroes. I lived my dream.

I was entirely satiated.

I don't want this deep reflection on my inner being to suddenly deteriorate into something cheesy (what would that say about me, after all?), but in recognizing my position at the apex of my life, it becomes increasingly necessary (cheesiness or not) to express my ultimate gratitude to:

my parents, I love you both. Thank you for always believing in me, always being there for me, always providing for me, and for expertly clearing the path to any success I have achieved (or ever will). When I think about your parenting, I think about perfection and how blessed I am.
(p.s. Thanks for going to UNC, too.)

my sisters, I love you all. Thank you for being you, for teaching me, for putting up with me and my antics, and supporting me through it all. I wouldn't be here without you.

my friends, I love you, and you know who you are. Thanks for understanding me, or at least pretending to. We've had some great times together, and I owe parts myself to each of you. All the good parts (if there are any), that is.

the team, who made it all possible. Thank you for representing with class all that Carolina is, for playing hard, as a TEAM, to reach the pinnacle of success. Thank you for your championship defense and your unselfish offense. Thank you, Sean, Ray, Rashad, Jawad, Jackie, Marvin, David, Melvin, Reyshawn, and Quentin. Thank you, Roy, for coming home (man, that changed things around -- i.e. saved my life -- and made this post possible, huh?). Thank you for beating a team of destiny in order to become one of your own (and fulfill mine).

Thank you all for accomplishing the historical, for doing the unmatchable, for making dreams 21 years in the making come beautifully true.

Thank you for definitively and forever legitimizing my life.