Devastation. Pure and simple.
There are no other words for the feeling I had when I watched UNC intercept Hagans' pass with two minutes to go. There was some time left, but in my gut I knew it was as over as Pete Gillen's career.
I'm writing this at 6:00 on Saturday the 22nd, post-UNC game, and the somber mood in my house is palpable. It feels as if we've all just returned from a funeral. I haven't had such a pit in my stomach since they canceled "Saved by the Bell." That loss hit me like a fist, and I find myself hard-pressed to write my usual upbeat column after such a devastating defeat.
As bad as I feel, I can't help but compare this to the elated mood that pervaded Grounds last weekend. Standing on the field mocking FSU fans with their own disturbingly catchy chant, I felt as close to perfect as I can ever remember. Honestly, years from now, when someone asks me the best moment of my life, I'll say "when I met my wife" or "when I had my first child," but I'll really be thinking about Scott Stadium and the looks on those FSU fans' faces as I -- along with a few thousand of you -- Seminole-chopped them out of our house.
When trying to recall my worst moments, sports also come to the forefront. The perfect bliss I feel after a surprising upset finds its polar opposite after brutal defeat.
In particular, last year's Florida State game springs quickly to mind. My roommates and I, caught up in the fervor of U.Va's undefeated season, decided to travel to Tallahassee to watch the Cavs defend their ranking. Thirteen hours of driving, four moonings of FSU vehicles, a Denny's grand-slam breakfast, food poisoning and 36 Seminole points later, I found myself walking out of Doak Campbell Stadium with my head down as my senses were overwhelmed by 70,000 fans screaming a remarkably well-coordinated chant of "OV-ER-RATE-ED." They were right.
It may seem strange to claim that the outcome of football games has produced both my best and worst moments. Obviously, sports matter little in the grand scheme. But, honestly, I am hard-pressed to remember other times when I've felt such strong emotion.
Winning a big game can be the ultimate high, while a bad loss can make you feel physically sick.
How is it that we become so invested in these teams and players?
As fans, we commit an extreme amount of emotional capital to a team with which we have no real connection. Sure, we go to U.Va., so we cheer for the Cavaliers. But what role do most of us play in their victory? Do we call plays? Do we even know the players? Likely not.
How, then, do our emotions become so tied to our team, while we have so little to do with their play?
Perhaps science can offer an explanation. Evolutionists believe that sports developed as an outlet for man's most primitive needs that otherwise go unfulfilled in a civilized society.
In the absence of mortal competition for status and resources, we invest our primal urge to conquer in our favorite teams. When they win, we experience the same rush prehistoric man must have felt when he ensured his survival through conquest.
Indeed, there even may be modern evidence for this evolutionary theory. In his book, "Positively Fifth Street," James McManus recounts a number of astonishing statistics regarding sex and sports.
Most interestingly, nine months after a big win like the 1980 Miracle on Ice, birthrates spike dramatically. Simple fans who had no more connection to the game than through their TV set were still far more likely to have sex after such a win. Sports have a connection with our primitive nature. In some way, they may even be integral to the propagation of our species.
Perhaps today we are mirroring our ancient ancestors through sport rather than conquest. Perhaps, more simply, the realm of sports is one of the only left where there are still clear-cut wins and losses rather than compromises and settlements. Maybe we just can't get enough of those wacky mascots.
Whatever the reason, we as fans are intrinsically tied to the fates of our team. Through them we can experience the purest happiness and most devastating disappointment. And, win or lose, I wouldn't have it another way.
Dan's column runs biweekly on Mondays. He can be reached at danstrong@cavalierdaily.com.
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