WRAL Sports Fan

North Carolina

Student view: The day Carolina beat Notre Dame

By Sam Rosenthal

Oct 13, 2008

UNC senior Sam Rosenthal covers the Tar Heels for WRALSportsFan.com. He watched from the stands Saturday as Carolina beat Notre Dame. Here is his diary of that day from a student’s perspective.


1:00 p.m. – They call it “Kegs n’ Eggs.” For as long as we’ve known each other, a group of my friends has had this tradition of tailgating for afternoon sporting events, consisting of an early wake-up, a massive breakfast cook-out and more than a little bit of alcohol consumption. (It’s college, folks.)

Only thing is, the whole lot of them graduated last year. As a group, they all made plans to reunite for the Notre Dame game. Brit Bussian flew in from Los Angeles. Marie Warwick drove down from Blacksburg, Va. – she said she spent $400 to make the trip. Others came from places across North Carolina, such as Durham, Oxford and Winston-Salem.

1:05 p.m. – Arriving a bit late (with a story to write, drinking from 10:30 until kickoff seemed a bit irresponsible), my first question is: “Are there any eggs left?” Indeed there are – and they’ve only been sitting out for three hours! Old … cold … scrumptious. So are the two types of gooey, calorie-filled dough concoctions and it’s-never-too-early-for-Halloween Halloween cookies.

1:10 – 1:30 p.m. – Very few people at the party have tickets to the game – most plan on staying at Ryan’s house. The host with the most sports a Carolina blue T-shirt which reads “Drink like a champion today” on the front. He sure is … stumbling and mumbling like a champ, too!

Elliot Howard: “I think it’s going to be the biggest atmosphere since Florida State in ’97.”

Tyree Barbee, speaking to someone with a ticket: “Are you going to this game? What the heck are you doing here? You don’t know how bad I want to be going to this game.”

Like most tailgates, this one involves games of flip-cup (two teams relay-racing to finish their cups and flip them over on a table) and beer pong (seriously, you should know what this is by now). Gusting winds make both sports much more difficult.

1:36 p.m. – One of the tailgaters sells his student ticket for $50. When later asked if he regretted his decision, he said that he didn’t because he got three hours of sleep at home and still caught the last two quarters. To each his own.

1:38 p.m. – Call of the day! Stefan Ringel (UNC Class of 2008, Temple Grad Student Class of 2011) makes his prediction for the game: “I think it starts out slow … Our secondary comes up big against (Notre Dame quarterback Jimmy) Clausen. … Second half, it opens up. (UNC running back Shaun) Draughn guts ‘em for a couple big runs … I say something like, 28-23, Carolina.”

Looking back, now: Game started rather slowly. UNC’s secondary accounted for two interceptions of Clausen, one for a touchdown. Draughn finished with 17 carries for 91 yards. Final score: 29-24, Carolina. Scary, huh?

1:42 p.m. – Marie, as “Don’t Stop Believing” blares through the iPod speakers: “Everyone needs a little Journey in their life.” Little does she appreciate the depth of her remark (Google: Bob Hastings’ “The Station”).

1:57 p.m. – Benji Franco is dejected, having just missed a call from his friend, who had an extra ticket. Keyword: “had.” He calls her back within minutes, but she’s already given the ticket away. Kid looks like his girlfriend just broke up with him and drove off … in his car.

2:14 p.m. – Elliot: “Notre Dame is coming to campus today. We’re ranked higher than them. It could happen.”

2:26 p.m. – My friend Kari chases me around the yard and eventually rugby tackles me. Still not sure of any wrongdoing on my part.

2:37 p.m. – Clouds gather, people worry about rain. It never comes.

3:00 p.m. – A few of the tailgaters use my designated driver status to hitch a ride to campus. We walk together toward the Granville Towers parking lot, site of the “official” Notre Dame Senior Tailgate. By the time we arrive, most people have already left for the game.

We do encounter our first Notre Dame fans, who don’t seem to bother or be bothered by Carolina fans. One car even flies both a Notre Dame and a UNC flag out of its windows – talk about a split personality.

3:05 p.m. – I split off and join a different group. This one has been tailgating at Granville for a while. They’ve got two tables and a grill set up, with the more coherent ones cooking and cleaning up after the inebriated ones. So it goes …

3:10 p.m. – Hot dogs … yum.

3:20 p.m. – Walking through fraternity court, we come across live bands in front of Sigma Nu and Sigma Alpha Epsilon. Gotta’ hand it to the frat boys – their tailgates are legit. Their dancing … not so much.

3:30 p.m. – I wish I could say we made it for kickoff. Such is the life of a Carolina student.

3:33 p.m. – Right outside of Kenan, we hear a jet engine and look up. A fighter jet flies over, looking cooler than James Bond at a Dungeons & Dragons convention.

Alyson O’Meara: “I hate Notre Dame. I am 100 percent Irish, and I hate, hate, hate Notre Dame.”

3:34 p.m. – In front of the stadium gates, a student shouts out: “I’ve got two tickets for $200.” It takes him all of two seconds to find a buyer, who might have talked him down to $180. Bargain!

3:35-3:45 p.m. – We enter the stadium and try to find seats. This proves more difficult than solving a Rubik’s cube with 10 different colors of blocks. Section 113 … nope. Section 117 … better luck next time. Section 110 … surely, you must be joking. You get the point.

We end up catching the game’s first touchdown – a Clausen pass to Golden Tate – amidst a crowd of people scrambling for seats just like us. It causes the crowd’s mood to reflect the weather – overcast.

Eventually, we find seats in Section 114, above the student section (the “Tar Pit”) and the band. Whole row of empty seats … Yahtzee!

Somewhere around 4:00 p.m. – Bruce Carter, No. 54, records a sack for UNC. The crowd reacts loudly with a “Bruuuuce” chant. How great would it be if everyone in sports had a monosyllabic last name that rhymed with “juice?”

Jaclyn Julow flew in from Michigan for her friend’s 21st birthday. Julow, a senior Wolverine, says, “Every time we play Notre Dame, we have like 8,000 bar fights.” I don’t recall observing the least bit of a squabble between Tar Heel and (not so) Fighting Irish fans all day.

4:22 p.m. – There’s kind of a stagnant feel to the game, with the score currently 10-3, Irish. The crowd has gotten excited at times, but never really whole-hearted. Notre Dame looks like the better team to this point

And what is going on with Brandon Tate? We saw him get shaken up on a kick return early in the game. Brooks Foster has lined up at wide out since, and Hakeem Nicks is returning kicks. Not until I visit the press box for free food (it’s college, folks) at halftime do I learn that Tate sprained his knee.

4:31 p.m. – UNC starts moving the ball for pretty much the first time, and the fans begin to get into the game. Alyson, using her finest French vocabulary, implores her friends to start cheering.
Jaclyn says, “This is so quiet (compared to Michigan). I’m shocked, actually, ‘cause this is a big game.”

4:47 p.m. – With less than two minutes remaining in the first half and Notre Dame driving and leading, 10-6, Alyson says, “Most depressing day of my life. This sucks. We should be beating these people. They should not be upsetting us right now.”

Then Notre Dame scores another touchdown, adding insult to injury: 17-6, Irish. One of the girls says she wouldn’t mind going home and watching the rest of the game on TV (or probably not at all).

4:55 p.m. – Walking around right before half time, my friend Robby leads me to where he’s sitting – well, standing – in the heart of the student section, just above the players’ tunnel and just below the marching band (as in, drum line five feet behind us … my ears are still thanking me).

One of our friends, Carey, emphatically tells me that one of the field goals in the game was headed straight into his hands, but that Robby’s dad knocked the ball away at the last second. Somebody said it echoed Steve Bartman.

5:05 p.m. – On my way to the press box to inquire about Tate (and eat some fried chicken), two drunken fans attempt to barge into the press elevator without press credentials, claiming that they work for The Daily Tar Heel. The elevator operator throws them out. As sloppy as they were, they couldn’t write their names on a police report, let alone a newspaper article. We get a good laugh out of it.

5:15 p.m. – There’s a “special presentation,” in which UNC basketball coach star Tyler Hansbrough is honored at midfield. My friend Mike later tells me that he had no idea what they were saying or what awards Hansbrough received because he started yelling as soon as the Hansbrough video montage appeared on the jumbo-tron.

5:25 p.m. – Quan Sturdivant intercepts Clausen on the first play of the second half and returns the ball for a touchdown. 17-16, Irish. The play completely changes the game and the stadium’s environment, although a good number of people were still milling about the concourse and probably missed the play (I caught it from the press box while gnawing a drumstick before heading back to my seat).

5:39 p.m. – Notre Dame scores its final touchdown of the day, turning the momentum in its favor one last time and making the score 24-16. At this point, the crowd grows subdued, but certainly not out of it.

5:48 p.m. – Meet Carey. He’s built like a bear but comes across like a cub. He wears an extremely faded, Carolina blue and white, seersucker blazer over a white, “Carolina Fishing Club” t-shirt, along with khaki shorts, flip-flops, and sunglasses which dangle around his neck. He’s more animated than Fred Flintstone. During moments of excitement, he pounds his chest, jumps up and down, drums on the bleachers and waves his arms and makes sounds like a pterodactyl (what one would expect pterodactyl calls to sound like, anyway).

Ryan Houston scores a touchdown, and the Carey and Robby dance-off commences. Then they rule that Houston was down on the 1-yard-line, and the dancing stops. He scores on the next play, and it resumes.
We question Carolina’s decision to go for a two-point conversion, which fails and leaves the score at 24-22, Irish.

6:02 p.m. – Clausen fumbles, and Carolina recovers in Notre Dame territory. The stadium erupts. Carey pulls the bottom of his T-shirt up and drapes it over his head like a mask.

6:03-6:05 p.m. – Draughn begins a crazy sequence of events by rumbling for a long run into the end zone. Carey hoists Robby up in the air in jubilation. Then we spot penalty markers down … “holding, on the offense.” Carey drops down onto the bleachers. He hangs his head in his hands. He lies on his back and looks up at the sky. Then he stands up and yells, “I’m gonna’ kill you, Zebra!”

Responding to the same play, Tar Pit fans start up a chant which makes that list of unquotable quotes. (Hint: It had something to do with a male cow’s fecal matter.)

Carey: “I cannot believe that. That was like the perfect run, too.”

Anyway, it’s pretty clear that Draughn is a quality tailback. Someone asks where Greg Little is. Someone else says he should probably concentrate on one sport – football or basketball – but not both.

After the holding, UNC draws an illegal formation penalty. Carey groans.
But then an Irish defender interferes with UNC receiver Brooks Foster, giving the Tar Heels a first down at the Notre Dame 12-yard-line. At this point, Carolina is driving right toward the end zone we’re perched above.

UNC runs a direct snap to Draughn. Mike says it reminds him of the Miami Dolphins’ zany offense, which makes me chuckle because I said that exact thing to Little during an interview about the Tar Heels’ use of direct snaps against Virginia Tech. Great minds think alike.

6:12 p.m. – That Draughn rush marked the end of the fourth quarter and set up a third-and-2 situation at the 4-yard-line for UNC … at the far end of the field. Great time to be sitting at the wrong end zone.

6:13 p.m. – They added some bells and whistles to the fourth quarter video montage. Kudos to the people behind that … it’s much better. While we’re at it, kudos to anyone involved in making the Tar Pit what it is: a very good student section. Students used to trickle into games and sit on the sides of the stadium; now, the Tar Pit fills up before game time, is located in the end zone with the band and winds around one corner of the stadium. And there’s a marked difference between the Tar Pit fans – who stay involved in almost every play, stand up the entire game and lend passion to the players on the field – and the other two-thirds or so of the spectators, who for the most part cheer from their seats.

6:14 p.m. – On the first play of the fourth quarter, UNC quarterback Cam Sexton bootlegs to his right and leaps over one defender and into another … and the end zone, giving Carolina its first lead and the game its final score, 29-24.

As one of the male cheerleaders fulfills a tradition by doing as many push-ups as UNC has points, Mike and I critique his push-up form. We could do so much better.

At this point, we all want to feed the drummers behind us their drumsticks.

6:23 p.m. – Notre Dame comes up short on a fourth-and-7 attempt from the Carolina 27-yard-line. This proves to be a huge play, because the Irish could have kicked a field goal and only needed another one to win during their final drive of the game. Instead, they needed a touchdown to win.
After the play, Carey tackles Robby. Robby says, “This is nuts.”

6:25 p.m. – After a few botched attempts, the Tar Pit faithful start a wave which makes its way around the entire stadium a number of times. Peer pressure at work.

6:36 p.m. – It dawns on me that, as football games go, this has been a truly great one to watch.

6:37 p.m. – Notre Dame is driving with about five minutes remaining, and the fans clearly sense the importance of the drive. Then Deunta Williams picks Clausen deep in UNC territory, preserving the Carolina lead. Carey and Robby jump around like seven-year-olds who just found out they’re headed to Disney World.

“Run that clock, baby. Run that clock,” Robby says. The Heels begin a drive with close to four minutes on the game clock, and Sexton hits Foster with a short pass to convert a crucial third-and-3 situation.

6:46 p.m. – Carey: “I can honestly say this is the funnest game I’ve ever been to. We haven’t seen this atmosphere that much.”

Then, Sexton rolls to his right and fires down field, complete to Foster near the sideline for a huge gain … or so we think. In what becomes the theme of the quarter, fans wait with baited breath while the referees review the play. At long last, they overturn the ruling, which would have given UNC a first down and iced the game.

So, after a Terrence Brown punt, Notre Dame got the ball with 1:47 to play, starting at their own 18-yard-line.

6:53 p.m. – Robby’s dad discusses the prevent defense with me. He’s not too fond of it … especially not as UNC surrenders huge chunks of yardage to the Irish. “You haven’t played it all game,” he says, “Why would you switch it the last two minutes?” Good question.

Mike, dreading a Notre Dame come-from-behind victory (or a Carolina go-from-ahead defeat), says, “Why does this always happen to us?”

6:57 p.m. – Notre Dame faces a third-and-13 at the UNC 33 with 21 seconds to go. “Come on boys,” Carey yells, “This is it! This is it!” Clausen’s pass gets batted down in the end zone.

That brings up fourth down with 11 seconds left. Every fan in the stands is hollering like a trader on Wall Street. The excitement builds, a veritable crescendo of emotion. Then Notre Dame calls a time out. Then Carolina calls a time out. The crowd waits, then the fervor resumes.

What happens next probably makes much more sense to people who watched it on TV. Clausen completes a pass to Michael Floyd for first-down yardage. As he’s being tackled, Floyd loses the ball, and Carolina recovers with one second left.

Is the game over?

Nope … They rule him down. Notre Dame quickly lines up to run a play, but the clock expires before Clausen gets off the snap.

So the game’s over, right?

The Carolina players sure think so – they storm the field, probably because they figure the refs just might call the damn thing over rather than re-organize the situation. The fans think so, too.

Hold your horses – “The ruling on the field is being reviewed.”
Robby: “I’m about to lose it.”

Mike: “This is a mess right now.”

And that uncivilized, cow-dung chant flares back up. Some UNC T-shirts made specifically for this game called it “The Day Southern Hospitality Died.” Well, in a way, that was right on point.

So we waited, and waited, and waited, nobody sure what to expect or what was being discussed. Was he down? Was it a fumble? How much time is left? Chicken or the egg?

Then the head referee spoke up. You didn’t hear much after the word “fumble” came out of his mouth … it was over. UNC had averted disaster and beaten Notre Dame.

“We win!” Carey exclaimed. “We win! Yes!”

7:10 p.m.– There’s almost a state of disbelief here. The stadium is still completely full, and the players are congregating in front of the student section, standing arm-in-arm while the band and the students lead the alma mater “Hark the Sound.” In four years of attending games at Kenan, nothing compares to this.

7:15 p.m. – And the band plays on. The Tar Pit is still mostly full, and Carey and Robby haven’t stopped dancing since the game ended.

It seems that nobody has more fun at games than the marching band. Every one of them wears a smile like the Cheshire Cat’s right now.

7:18-7:20 p.m. – In the Kenan concourse, students shout “Tar! … Heels!” over and over. This is followed by: “Who’s house? … Heels’ house!”

“This is phenomenal,” one girl says to her friend. “I’m so excited about this.”
One woman walks out of the stadium with her daughters. “I guess it was worth Daniel’s $500 ticket to come,” she says, presumably about her husband.

7:31 p.m. – Walking past the Bell Tower, a man behind me lets out a triumphant yell and catches my attention. He’s middle-aged and wearing a UNC hat and a Marvin Austin jersey. He says to his buddy, “Never thought I’d see this in my lifetime.”

The thought occurs to me: This seems like what you see after Carolina wins a big time basketball game. The times, they might be a-changing …

7:45 – 8:30 p.m. – Franklin Street looks like New York City (sans the skyscrapers). Bumper-to-bumper traffic. People everywhere – on the streets, in stores, at the bars. A giant chicken walks around outside of Cluck-U, where a sign reads: “Go Heels! Notre Who?”

8:30-10:00 p.m. – Before the after party, things are quiet at Carey, Mike, Erek, Robby and Weston’s house. Now a bit calmer, enjoying the Red Sox - Rays playoff baseball game, Carey collects his thoughts. “People were wondering why I was getting so excited,” he says. “This is the culmination of my college football career.”

10:30 p.m. – A bunch of random people materialize out of nowhere. Beer pong and flip cup commence. On the porch, one of them says about the game, “It was unbelievable, almost. It was like, ‘We’re doing this.’”

10:36 p.m. – Erek’s whole family enjoys the revelry, from the parental unit to younger siblings. Of course, the parents were promptly carded for I.D. at the door.

Some of his family drove from Virginia for the game, while others flew from Massachusetts. They’re all Red Sox fans, and they’re all glued to their seats. Glad I wasn’t still at the house when the Rays won in extra innings.
10:47 p.m. – Robby: “I look at SEC schools, and I just think: I want to be at that school so bad. And I get the feeling that we’re starting to get there … just a little bit.”

Carey discusses with me how impressive it is that UNC’s victory came without its starting quarterback, T.J. Yates, and without run-and-catch star Tate. We contemplate Carolina’s chances of making a bowl game, or even a BCS bowl, and the fact that UNC could, would and should be 6-0 had the team held up down the stretch against Virginia Tech.

10:59 p.m. – Crisis! “The keg is empty. There is no more beer,” someone cries out.

A funereal red plastic cup is placed on the keg’s tap, and three people are told individually that the well has gone dry. But they all still insist on find out for themselves, not ready to accept the tragedy. (It’s college, folks.)

Benji (remember him, from Kegs n’ Eggs? Guy who just missed out on a ticket) watched the game at home. Anthony Palermo shows up at the house, and Benji says, “I saw you on TV today. You were making the most serious face.” Palermo (who goes by “P-mo”) replies, “I was trying to get my acting career started.”

Approximately 11:30 p.m. – As we’re preparing to leave the house on Church St. and walk to Franklin St., somebody convinces one of the partiers (who shall remain anonymous) to add a certain item to his attire. So, as we travel along Church St., then on Rosemary St., then on Franklin St. and into and out of bars, passersby see a man wearing a sombrero on his head, a lime green polo shirt, and pink lace, Victoria’s Secret panties over his blue jeans. (College.)

12:12 a.m. – Outside of the bar He’s Not Here, a girl sings “Carolina in my Mind,” by James Taylor.

12:15 – 12:40 a.m. – The line outside every bar seems never-ending. The term “one in, one out” applies everywhere, meaning that those lengthy queues shrink so slowly the bars close by the time you get in. And practically every bar charges a cover. Each one reminds me of the Yogi Berra line, “Nobody goes there anymore … It’s too crowded.”

12:47 a.m. – We’ve been out for an hour. We’ve walked everywhere. Haven’t been anywhere.

Eventually, we realize that nowhere will be perfect, so we hop in line at The Library on Franklin St. Outside, there’s a dude on some super-stilts, jumping up and down on them like a pair of pogo-sticks attached to his legs – much to the chagrin of the bouncer, Jayson. He charged us cover, much to our chagrin.

1:00 – 2:00 a.m. – The inside of The Library was a zoo. A fun zoo, none the less. Talk rarely strayed to the Tar Heels, but whenever it did, optimism reigned supreme.

A bit of anachronism … 12:43 a.m. – Clay Ragan: “I don’t know why I’m out right now. I was so tense (at the game) earlier. You can’t top that.”