Young Team

So I acknowledged MLK Day yesterday by staying home and reflecting.  Honestly, not so much about MLK, but about life in general.  I did two laps around the 'hood, and Wifey left for a doc's appointment, and she returned in time for us to leave for the Canes basketball game.  We were hosting Duke.

I can't stand Duke.  I have a few friends who attended, but by and large, I find the school to be a second tier college that has had tremendous marketing, and alumni support, and acts as if it's Ivy League.  It's not.  Lots of rich, spoiled kids go there, and a few years ago a magazine awarded them the "Douchiest College Award."  Truth is, their rival, the University of North Carolina is a better school, but Duke is a "hot college."

Plus, years ago, D2 applied there. She only applied to a few colleges, since she knew she wanted to attend UF, but got into Michigan, Maryland, and I think North Carolina.  Duke rejected her, which would have been fine, but the way they did it stuck in my craw.  They wrote a letter saying, in effect, you're a great student, but not THAT great, and since we're the greatest college in the history of higher education, well, you're just below the cut.  Yeah, right. Meanwhile, kids with inferior grades and SATs got into Duke because they were Hispanic. 

I think I actually wrote them, to D2's annoyance -- a very sarcastic "thank you for your consideration" in which I made clear that they are, in fact, well inferior to the Ivies, and Stanford, and even Michigan.

Anyway -- there was a great buzz at the Canes arena, and the Canes, mostly freshman and sophomores, gave Duke a nice game, but eventually lost to the better players and better coaching.  I yelled and screamed -- to Wifey's amusement, mostly.  I think it better that I attend future Canes games only with my brethren who really get it -- like Mike and Norman and Rob and Mirta.  Wifey's too ironic to really understand being a Canes fan.

So we lost, but during the game I got a text that brightened me: D1 had been on a local news segment featuring her company. She was poised and impressive.  Earlier in the day she told me she had the tryout, and I told her that she might not get the gig -- and if she didn't, the station was full of losers.

D1 called me a Tiger Dad, and she's right. I'm fiercely protective of my Ds.  A meaningless slight by some random admissions officer in North Carolina, 9 years on, still irks me.  A few summers back, D2 applied for internships at two Miami companies. One, Royal Caribbean, accepted her. The other did not. To this day, when I pass the headquarters of the company that didn't offer her the job, I flick it the bird.  I can't help it -- it's the way I'm put together.

My friend Joel, who is Italian and the same way, credits it to the small amount of Italian DNA I was found to have.

Also -- Duke really is a douchey college.  We'll beat them in the ACC tournament. I hope.