Growing up as an NC State fan means that everyone else is a Carolina fan. (Except for That One Guy You Know who cheers for Duke, but we don’t talk to him.)

Everywhere we look, people are wearing Carolina Blue. They’ve got the hats and T-shirts and pajama pants and socks, all adorned with the snazzy UNC logo or the outline of a dirty footprint. Those lucky Tarheel fans can even buy a decent amount of Carolina merchandise conveniently at the closest Wal-Mart.

And then there’s always the endless talk about how many National Championships they’ve won, how great their coaches are, and oh yes, Michael Jordan is an alumni, did you know??

(Yes, we’re aware.)

It’s always worse right after Carolina wins the NCAA tournament because then we all have to endure constant barrages of bragging, like it’s been centuries since their last win instead of just a couple years ago.

We’d like some other topics of conversation now.

Yeah okay, we’re a little salty. Saltier at least than the roads were the day the Carolina/State game got postponed back in January.

Can you blame us? We’re still waiting for our glory days to return, and we feel like we’re the only ones who expect them to.

State fans are used to being the disappointed one in a large crowd of celebrators, and this past basketball season was particularly rough. We tried to cheer our way through it, but it wasn’t easy.

I mean we even lost to Boston College.

All our crushed hopes and dreams stick to us like a protective shield, making us seem a bit abrasive, but at least we’re protected from the argyle onslaught of a particular shade of blue.

We’re the odd ones out. It feels like we’re only a tiny portion of the population because everyone we meet identifies themselves as a Carolina fan right from the very first handshake. Of course we can all still become perfectly wonderful friends and family and exist in a nice harmony together, but that doesn’t make the feeling of living on opposite sides of the fence go away.

Being a State fan is like being constantly surrounded by a party we’re not invited to. Not that we want to attend, of course. It’s just that we want all the neighbors to keep the noise down at bit. Celebrate all you want, but don’t ask us to wear a fun party hat too.

We’re too busy getting our hopes up for next year.

 

Holly Taylor is a Staff Writer for Roanoke-Chowan Publications. Contact her at holly.taylor@r-cnews.com or by phone at 252-332-7206.