The first college football games of the year are here! I remember being an extremely out-of-place freshman at Carolina all those years ago. I know, for me it’s only been 18 years (!?) and for others of you it has been longer in some cases. It doesn’t matter if it was 8 years ago or 38 years ago, I bet all of us remember that first Saturday of football season at our alma mater.
My time at Carolina can’t be understood without recognizing the importance of being a Marching Tar Heel. When I was young, I wanted to go to Carolina. I didn’t know why, other than they were good at sports, it seemed, and my older cousin Mike (who could do no wrong) attended there in my formative years. True, I was brought up in a UNC house, but there was more to it than that. Carolina was the only place where I applied and by some miracle I was accepted. I knew that at such a large university, I’d need to find my niche, and since I was a “drummer” in high school, the marching band seemed like the only sensible choice.
A month before band camp officially commenced in August, the drum line had our try-outs in Hill 107. If you were in the band, you will remember the wonderful acoustics in there! If you weren’t-stick your head in a metal trashcan and have someone bang it with a stick. Did you do it??? Now you understand the acoustics. Through some sheer stroke of luck I managed to secure a spot marching the smallest bass drum. I told myself it was because it was a technical position, when in actuality, I was too small for the other 5.
Finally, the time arrived for band camp. I know, I know, “this one time, at band camp…” Believe me, I’ve heard it before. I don’t remember much about that first band camp except for a few nuggets. For one, it’s really hot here in August and the Rainbow Soccer Fields didn’t provide much relief-except for the occasional “breeze break”. I remember my first time in Kenan, they even let us have a practice in there then! Some guy named Mack promised a good season…But for me and for generations of Marching Tar Heels, we all remember that first night at camp. Milling about outside, wondering where all of the upper classmen had gone, then being paraded into Hill 107. What is that cacophony of sounds. It doesn’t sound like anything, until…da/digadiga/da, getting faster now, yes!!!! Here Comes Carolina!!! I never, ever, grew tired of playing our school songs. Still today, I play along at home. Band nerd? Maybe. Proud Alum? Absolutely.
Finally, it was game day, or game night as it was. We played Syracuse, who was starting some guy named McNabb. Sometimes I wonder how things turned out for him. I don’t remember if we won, what our show was, or much else really about that night. What I do remember is the feeling of accomplishment and pride I felt being in that rugby shirt (remember drum line?) and representing my university. Through all kinds of ups and downs throughout college, playing those songs kept me sane and have connected me to a group that is so much bigger than I and for that I am proud.
Will the Tar Heels pull out a win tonight against the other Carolina? I don’t know but I do care. I want to see them do well. But, win or lose I’ll be standing at the end of the game singing Hark the Sound. I am a Tar Heel born and bred and I am honored to have attended UNC. Football games now are not the life and death matter they used to be. Being an adult has that effect on you! But, this weekend, whatever school you root for, enjoy yourself and try to remember that much younger version of you in those stands screaming as if your life depends on it. All too soon, you look back and wonder where the time has gone. Go Heels!