June 18, 2004

By Adam Lucas

In reviewing the 2003-04 Carolina basketball season, it's time to admit that I missed a few things.

Take the Wake Forest game in Chapel Hill. The score was tied at halftime, 47-47, and then with about 12:30 left in the second half, Rashad McCants slammed through an alley-oop dunk to give Carolina a 62-60 lead. What happened between halftime and that dunk? I'm a little fuzzy, but I do have a couple notebook pages with what appear to be cracker crumbs all over them.

What about Florida State? I saw Roy Williams unveil the banners for Dean Smith and Bill Guthridge in the Smith Center rafters. But anything else that happened before halftime, well, all I've got to offer is a blue button-down shirt that still has some traces of milk on it.

I'm pretty sure the Tar Heels played Georgia Tech in the ACC Tournament. Carolina made a frantic comeback in the second half, but how the Jackets ever built that lead in the first place, I have no idea. But I do know the complete text of "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" by memory.

I've spent my entire life thrilling to the ups and despairing to the downs of every Carolina basketball game. But the season I've enjoyed most is the first one ever when I've occasionally missed key plays, sometimes had to wait to get home and watch the tape before realizing exactly how certain baskets were made. In the past, necessities for every game included a notepad, a couple of pens, and a tape recorder. This season, each game required a diaper bag, at least one pair of mittens, two sweaters, one jacket, three bottles, and at times, a U-Haul truck. And, most importantly, an understanding wife capable of juggling three items and a baby at one time while her husband exhorts Raymond Felton to get into a defensive stance.

The Tar Heel basketball memory I used to treasure the most was watching Donald Williams cut down the nets in New Orleans in 1993. Donald, you're still the man, but you just can't compare to watching my daughter cackle at Rameses or kick her legs when the opening strains of "Jump Around" boom over the Smith Center PA system.

McKay Lucas was only about six months old when she attended her first Carolina basketball game. Having already endured a 37-0 whitewashing at the hands of Florida State in her first football game, her expectations were clearly low. She fell asleep before halftime.

She did, however, learn to appreciate it more as the season progressed. When Rashad McCants made the game-clinching basket against Connecticut, I am fairly certain that she wanted to storm the floor. When Jackie Manuel dunked on Julius Hodge, I heard her whisper, "In your face, Julius!" When Jarrett Jack nailed the game-winner in the ACC quarterfinals, well, I'm not going to repeat what she said, but obviously she learned it from her mother. She even made a couple of road trips, and you would be surprised at how much nicer Clemson fans can be to folks wearing blue when you tote along an eight-month-old with a disarming smile.

It is fitting, then, that her first season was also Roy Williams's first season in Chapel Hill. It's been a year now since he assumed the helm of the Carolina basketball program. He won 19 games, took the Heels back to the NCAA Tournament, earned a split with the Big Four opponents that had lately dominated the Tar Heels. For now, that's good enough, even though he expects much more. Carolina fans will give him, oh, about six more months before they start demanding national championships.

For the most part, it's been a pleasure watching him coach. But let's be honest--we already knew we were getting a good coach. There wasn't much suspense on that topic. A man wins 418 games in 15 seasons after taking over a program under NCAA sanctions, you have a pretty good idea that he knows how to use a whistle and a chalkboard.

What we might not have known was what a good father we were bringing to Chapel Hill. Turn on Oprah or Jerry Springer or whoever is holding the microphone on daytime television these days, and you'll find plenty of people using bad experiences with their father as an excuse. Maybe it's for drinking, maybe it's for mistreating their family, maybe it's for ignoring their family.

Because of his difficult relationship with his own father, Roy Williams could have had that excuse if he wanted it. But he didn't. This is a man who rose early every day he was home when his children, Scott and Kimberly, were in high school to fix them breakfast. We're not talking Emeril quality, but he made the effort. This is a man who once flew from Tokyo to Asheville on Christmas Eve, spent a day at home, and then flew from Asheville to Hawaii on Dec. 26 just to have the opportunity to open presents with his family on Christmas Day. This is a man who could be found on Easter Sunday this year hiding Easter eggs for an Easter egg hunt and dinner he and his wife, Wanda, hosted for Scott and Kimberly and seven of their closest friends. No matter that there was no one under the age of 23 in attendance. "We had a great time," Williams says with a smile.

I used to want to be able to dunk like Vince Carter, shoot like Shammond Williams, defend like Derrick Phelps. This Father's Day, though, I think I'd be happy to parent like Roy Williams.

As for McKay, she won't remember any of her first season. And I won't forget any of it--at least not the important parts.

Adam Lucas is the publisher of Tar Heel Monthly and can be reached at alucas@tarheelmonthly.com. This story originally ran in the June issue of Tar Heel Monthly. To subscribe, click here.