Jeremy Brevard-USA TODAY Sports Some personal anecdotes about how UNC sports have impacted me and others in my life. You know what the funny thing is about the Carolina Family? All you have to do is get your foot in the door. Some will say you have to attend the school to be a fan. Others will say you must be from North Carolina. But the true Tar Heels, the ones with that deep emotional connection, know that when it comes to Carolina sports, you can toss all that other stuff out the window. My father originally hails from a small town by the name of Nashville, North Carolina. His father (my grandfather) attended law school at UNC and, for as long as he can remember, my dad was a rabid Tar Heel fan. Naturally, he carried that fandom with him all the way into adulthood where eventually, he met my mother (in Nashville, Tennessee ironically enough). Mind you, my mother is from Mississippi and she, along with almost her entire family, attended Mississippi State University. If you don’t know much about MSU fans let me tell you something: those folks would die for their Bulldogs. I could go on for days about the dedication and passion of that fanbase but the point is this: even for a girl who’d already developed a lifelong connection to another school, all it took was that tiny bit of exposure. By her own admission, the most devoted my mother has ever been in her sports-viewing career was watching Carolina basketball with my dad throughout the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. Funny, huh? The two bonded over their love for Tar Heel greats such as Jeff Lebo and Eric Montross. Perhaps what brought them even closer together was their shared hatred for infamous Dookies like Christian Laettner and Bobby Hurley. Eventually, though, it was time to welcome in the next generation of Tar Heels. Spanning from 1992-1998, my two brothers and I were born. Despite the fact that not a single one of us ever ultimately attended the school and we lived in the suburbs of Tennessee, we became what you would refer to as a “Carolina Family.” The earliest distinct memory I can recall of UNC sports stems from the 2004-2005 basketball season. Roy Williams was in his second year as head coach and had himself a loaded squad with studs like Sean May, Raymond Felton, Marvin Williams, and an unnamed player who’s currently pending re-entry into the Family (Heels fans know who I’m talking about). These guys were largely overshadowed by an Illinois team that had lost just one game in the regular season. This only made it that much sweeter when Carolina stormed through the NCAA tournament and ultimately defeated the Illini, 75-70, to win the 2005 national championship. That memory will stick with me forever. There I was, seven years old, watching on with the rest of my Tar Heel-crazed family. I can remember strategically positioning myself behind the couch and just barely peaking over it because the magnitude of the situation was almost too much for me to handle. Then it happened. As the clock ticked down to double zeroes, Sean May hoisted the ball into the rafters, and the ‘05 Tar Heels were forever engrained in college basketball lore. For me, it felt like a baptism of sorts. Though I was already an established fan, I think in that moment I was inducted into the Carolina Family. Since then, I’ve gotten to witness some of the best to ever do it in guys like Tyler Hansbrough, Marcus Paige, and Joel Berry. I cried tears of joy as the 2009 and 2017 teams climbed that seemingly unscalable mountain and I cried tears of sorrow as the 2012 and 2016 teams left us wondering “what if?” Crazy as it may sound, my undying passion for the Tar Heels has become a defining characteristic of who I am as a person. Funny, huh? My oldest brother, Carr, has had a similar trajectory as a Carolina fan and while I’d like to tell you all about that, I’m going to tell a different story. Carr’s best friend since the time he was five years old was a boy named Ty Osman. As best friends tend to do, Carr and Ty shared everything. Since Ty wasn’t born into a love for any particular college team like Carr and I were, he decided to adopt Carr’s love for the Tar Heels. It wasn’t long at all before he developed the same intensity and enthusiasm that we had. Funny, huh? Over the years, Ty’s and Carr’s mutual adoration for Carolina athletics brought them even closer together. I can remember Ty would come over and watch Carolina-Duke games at our house. The three of us, along with my other brother, Campbell, would scurry around and gather every last bit of UNC gear we could find and throw it all in a pile in front of the TV. Then, we’d start dancing maniacally around this “shrine”, thinking that somehow, some way, we could influence the outcome of the game with our voodoo magic. It’s silly, I know, but I don’t think I appreciated it enough at the time. Unfortunately, several years ago in March of 2012, Ty passed away in a freak car accident at the far-too-young age of 18 years old. Naturally, Carr’s world was turned completely upside down and mine similarly spiraled having to watch him go through the unthinkable. It just didn’t seem fair, and to this very day, I still can’t make it make sense. Ty was a ball of energy. He brought joy to every person or situation he touched and everything he did, he did for others. I know it’s commonplace when someone passes to reflect on how great that person was, but I cannot stress to you enough how true this was in Ty’s case. Carr often likened his relationship with Ty to that of brothers, which meant by association, he was my brother too. In the months and years following this tragic incident, events have been held in Ty’s honor through a foundation set up by his family. Every single one of these events, without fail, has included some sort of nod to his love for the Tar Heels. An outdoor basketball court was constructed at the church he attended. The court color? Carolina blue. Hundreds, if not upward of a thousand people gathered to refurbish a community center in an underprivileged neighborhood. The t-shirts to commemorate the event? Carolina blue. Close friends and family built a house in Honduras, a place that Ty often visited on mission trips. The paint color? Carolina blue. It may seem trivial to some, but as time goes on, I’m still reminded of Ty through this irrational affection we shared for the Heels. I imagine he was punching holes in the wall after Kris Jenkins ripped our hearts out in 2016. I imagine he found his fair share of Kentucky fans to terrorize after Luke Maye hit “The Shot.” And I imagine he was dancing around a shrine of UNC gear as that same team finished the job and achieved “Redemption.” Here’s a kid born and raised in Tennessee, with no direct connection to Carolina, but was and is a Tar Heel in every sense of the word. Family, huh?

Bob Donnan-USA TODAY Sports A tale of how wanting to “Be Like Mike” turned my blood Carolina Blue. For those who may or may not know, my name is Brandon Anderson. I have been a writer for the Tar Heel Blog for a little over three years now, and I also serve as an editor and podcast co-host. It wasn’t until recently that I realized I never formally introduced myself when I started writing for the site, but with everything that has been going on I couldn’t think of a better time to tell all of you my story. This is the story about how a kid born and raised in Illinois became a Tar Heel, and how my journey brought me to where I am today. I grew up in a family that loved basketball. My mom was an exceptional basketball player in high school, and I still remember coming across some of her trophies when I was barely able to process what they were. One of my earliest memories of any sports team was the Chicago Bulls, as it was very hard to grow up in Illinois and not root for a team that was starting to make a name for themselves in the NBA. Naturally my attention gravitated to the GOAT himself, Michael Jordan. It was hard not to pay attention to a man of his magnitude, especially since he was quite literally everywhere: in commercials, featured on sports shows, in the newspaper, on trading cards, on posters, eventually in movies, etc. He was and forever will be a larger-than-life being in the state of Illinois, and more specifically Chicago, and as a child I soaked up every ounce of who he was that I could. When I was old enough to read my next door neighbor gave me two books written about Jordan: Rare Air, and I Can’t Accept Not Trying. Amazingly enough I still have the latter book, and it’s still in relatively good condition. I digress, while reading Rare Air I learned that Michael Jordan played at the University of North Carolina for Hall of Fame coach Dean Smith. I wasn’t really drawn to college basketball that much prior to this, as Illinois isn’t the biggest college basketball state, especially compared to NC (don’t let Illini fans tell you otherwise). Though because I was so heavily engulfed in who Michael Jordan was, I then began to follow Carolina Basketball. I wasn’t the most die-hard fan for quite a while, I’ll sheepishly admit, but come on: it was really, really hard to take attention away from the Chicago Bulls dynasty in the 90’s. It was in high school, however, when things got really fun. Growing up the other challenge I had catching Carolina games was that my family didn’t have cable, but that all changed my freshman year of high school. I was able to catch more games, more of the Carolina/Duke rivalry, and yes, the road to some national championships. In 2005 I remember the anticipation building up to the game against Illinois at my school, and I remember thinking “There’s no way that the Heels lose to these bums.” I hate that my confidence took so many blows, because as it turns out Illinois was a really good team that year. We all know how that game ended, however, and I will never forget walking into Physics class the next day wearing a Carolina Fubu jersey with a big grin on my face in front of Illini fans. I was on cloud nine. Unfortunately when I finished high school, I couldn’t find a way to get to UNC. Being an out-of-state kid already gave me a very poor chance, but also my mother worked at a private college in my home city. I ended up going to Augustana College instead, which was tough because it meant having to enjoy my beloved Tar Heels from afar while trying to get my degree. I remember witnessing the 2009 national championship win at the house I was renting at the time, and it was tough not having anybody of the same fandom to celebrate with. Still, NCAA title number five was a sweet one to say the least, and I’ll never forget how happy I was to see that group of guys dominate Michigan State the way they did. Here’s where my story gets really, really interesting. After I graduated college I really wanted to move to Atlanta and stay with my cousin. I had terrible luck finding jobs up north, and all I could think of was living down south. My parents grew up in Louisiana, so I spent a lot of time down there visiting family all my life and there’s just something about the people in the south that just felt like...home. That’s when I got a call about a job offer, but it meant staying in my hometown. I took it, and it meant another four years of living in the Midwest despite my detest for the region. One summer I spent a lot of time in Chicago, and I remember coming home after one of my trips and thinking “I have to get out of here.” Chicago was my new destination, and one way or another I was making it happen. Well, that’s when my job decided it was time to interfere once again. I was informed that my job was moving to Cary, North Carolina, and that I could either move with the company or I could take the layoff. After hanging out with some co-workers for a bit after we got the news, I went home and looked up Cary on the map. As faith would have it, Cary is 30 minutes outside of Chapel Hill. I’d never made a faster, bigger decision in my life. I immediately decided that I was moving. After moving to Cary, it took me little to no time to make my way to Chapel Hill. Driving around UNC’s campus, I had never felt more at home anywhere in my life, which was surreal for a place I had never been before. Also, when I tell you all that I went to as many Carolina Basketball games as I possibly could after moving here, there is no exaggeration to be found. How crazy did I go? I paid my way into the 2014 Carolina/Duke game at the Dean Dome, and my very first time experiencing the rivalry in person resulted in a win and everyone storming the court. It was quite honestly one of the best sports moments I’ve ever been a part of in my life. One of the weirder things I noticed when I moved here was that the coverage of Carolina athletics wasn’t quite like the coverage of the Iowa Hawkeyes was back home (Yeah, that’s the other weird thing about where I grew up — a lot of them were Iowa fans even, not Illinois). While it makes a little bit of sense, as there are three ACC schools in the Triangle, but I found it difficult and frustrating to get what I needed. That’s when I stumbled upon Tar Heel Blog, and it was exactly what I was looking for. I followed the site for a few years and amazingly when Tanya Bondurant took over, she reached out to me out of nowhere after the loss to Duke in the ACC championship game in 2017. Little did she know that I wanted to go into journalism badly when I was in undergrad, and almost transferred from Augustana because they didn’t have a program at the time. I got my dream gig, and I’m writing about one of my favorite teams while living in one of the best places in the United States. Oh, and within my first month of covering the Heels they won the national championship. I’ll be very honest, it’s extremely hard for me to believe it myself when I say it out loud, but somehow someway everything in my life fell perfectly in place, and it’s crazy to think that it all started with a book that my neighbor gave me as a kid. For those who might not think things happen exactly how they should in life, I hope this story gave you some sense of that feeling. I know I didn’t recall many tales of my favorite games, players, and championships, but my story runs so much deeper than that. Michael Jordan made me aware. Dean Smith made me pay attention. Roy Williams gave me joy, and yes, getting to write for all of you gave me my dream. My name is Brandon Anderson, and I am a Tar Heel.

We finally made it to the weekend! Not that our weekends look too much different than our weeks these days, but I’m keeping things positive and excited to spend the weekend a bit unplugged! We are working on some home…