During our recent stopover, we dropped in on my wife's cousin and her husband, who hosted us at their gorgeous home just outside town and treated us to an exquisite lunch at the Governor's Club (wow, what a place!). Then, to keep things interesting for my hoops-obsessed son, we headed down to the Carolina Basketball Museum. This shrine to Tar Heel glory was very, very cool, but what happened next proved to be the day's biggest thrill.
We strolled next door to the Dean E. Smith Center, aka the Dean Dome, just hoping to peek inside. When we discovered an open door, we entered and heard the distinctive sound of sneakers squeaking on the court. It turned out that the current Tar Heel basketball squad was scrimmaging with a collection of former players. No, I didn't spot any superstars, but I witnessed some pretty impressive shooting and team interplay. The audience was small, and we managed to work our way down to courtside. My boy was in paradise.
And so was I. How nice to be back in a town that meant so much to me so long ago. I've lived in Florida for almost 17 years now, and it's been even longer since I stepped foot in Chapel Hill. But after all these years, and after building a life three states away, my blood still runs a radiant Carolina Blue.