Occasionally very occasionally a sporting event takes on a life of its own, transcending the games and teams and creating its own inertia. It rises above the level of friendly strife, weaving itself into the social fabric and becoming something besides a mere game. It becomes an event with a capital E.
The Olympic Games and the Super Bowl are two such capital E endeavors, although a case could be made in other lands for the World Cup soccer finals. But in this land or at least in this corner of the US of A that borders the Atlantic Ocean there exists another of those uppercase happenings. And that, of course, is the ACC Tournament.
The modifier 'Basketball' need not be used before Tournament, nor does the acronym need to be written out to give surety to the occasion. A mere mention of the ACC Tournament draws people in who could otherwise care less about the various colleges or even college basketball itself. Since its inception in 1954 it has become a regional phenomenon unparalleled anywhere in the nation. It has become the model for other conferences to emulate, but so far none has challenged it in terms of player intensity, fan interest, media hoopla and perhaps the one thing that makes it an Event: demand for tickets.
The last time the general public was allowed to purchase tickets was 1966. Almost all those in attendance at the Greensboro Coliseum this weekend will have gotten there by virtue of membership in the alumni booster clubs such as the Iron Dukes and Super Rams and by contributing vast sums of money to their schools' respective student scholarship funds. Non-alumni are generally relegated to either pulling strings or buying from ticket brokers, either by answering classified ads or going online. Ebay too has entered the fray, but either way, expect to pay in the neighborhood of $2,000 for a tournament book.
Scalpers will be strolling in and around the coliseum parking lot, but be forewarned: North Carolina law prohibits resale of tickets for over $3 above face value, and scalpers routinely ignore said law. Consequently, undercover officers too will be patrolling the grounds, and unlucky fans have been known to get caught up in sting operations.
There once was a time when those less well-heeled could obtain tickets by looking for a disgruntled first-round loser storming out of the exit. The joke was to look for anyone in an orange sweater. But those days are pretty much gone, as even the most die-hard Clemson fan stays in town for the social event the tournament has become. And besides, Clemson actually has a chance to advance past the first round this year.
Any chance for true meaning in terms of NCAA berths this year was all but eliminated last Wednesday when Florida State upset Duke and in all probability assured itself of a postseason date. Smart money has Duke, North Carolina, Boston College, NC State and Florida State going to the NCAA; Maryland, Miami, Virginia and Clemson going to the NIT (if they choose to accept the offer); and the rest going home. Of course, Georgia Tech, Virginia Tech or Wake Forest could win the tournament and gain an automatic NCAA bid, whereupon hell would immediately freeze over.
Yet, if one insists on true meaning, try this on for size: By the time the last fan strolls, sashays or staggers out of the coliseum late Sunday afternoon, collectively they will have dropped between $20 to $22 million in this fair burg. I gotcha meaning right here!
So, even though the tourney no longer means life and death (before 1975 only the ACC Tournament champion could advance to the post-season), the drama of the games themselves, the importance of bragging rights, and the social aspects of simply 'being there' seems to be enough to assure that the tournament will keep its status as an event with a capital E in perpetuity.
Or as long as Duke rhymes with puke and Chapel Hill is home to 10,000 sons of bitches.
To comment on this story, e-mail Ogi overman at ogi@yesweekly.com.
The Olympic Games and the Super Bowl are two such capital E endeavors, although a case could be made in other lands for the World Cup soccer finals. But in this land or at least in this corner of the US of A that borders the Atlantic Ocean there exists another of those uppercase happenings. And that, of course, is the ACC Tournament.
The modifier 'Basketball' need not be used before Tournament, nor does the acronym need to be written out to give surety to the occasion. A mere mention of the ACC Tournament draws people in who could otherwise care less about the various colleges or even college basketball itself. Since its inception in 1954 it has become a regional phenomenon unparalleled anywhere in the nation. It has become the model for other conferences to emulate, but so far none has challenged it in terms of player intensity, fan interest, media hoopla and perhaps the one thing that makes it an Event: demand for tickets.
The last time the general public was allowed to purchase tickets was 1966. Almost all those in attendance at the Greensboro Coliseum this weekend will have gotten there by virtue of membership in the alumni booster clubs such as the Iron Dukes and Super Rams and by contributing vast sums of money to their schools' respective student scholarship funds. Non-alumni are generally relegated to either pulling strings or buying from ticket brokers, either by answering classified ads or going online. Ebay too has entered the fray, but either way, expect to pay in the neighborhood of $2,000 for a tournament book.
Scalpers will be strolling in and around the coliseum parking lot, but be forewarned: North Carolina law prohibits resale of tickets for over $3 above face value, and scalpers routinely ignore said law. Consequently, undercover officers too will be patrolling the grounds, and unlucky fans have been known to get caught up in sting operations.
There once was a time when those less well-heeled could obtain tickets by looking for a disgruntled first-round loser storming out of the exit. The joke was to look for anyone in an orange sweater. But those days are pretty much gone, as even the most die-hard Clemson fan stays in town for the social event the tournament has become. And besides, Clemson actually has a chance to advance past the first round this year.
Any chance for true meaning in terms of NCAA berths this year was all but eliminated last Wednesday when Florida State upset Duke and in all probability assured itself of a postseason date. Smart money has Duke, North Carolina, Boston College, NC State and Florida State going to the NCAA; Maryland, Miami, Virginia and Clemson going to the NIT (if they choose to accept the offer); and the rest going home. Of course, Georgia Tech, Virginia Tech or Wake Forest could win the tournament and gain an automatic NCAA bid, whereupon hell would immediately freeze over.
Yet, if one insists on true meaning, try this on for size: By the time the last fan strolls, sashays or staggers out of the coliseum late Sunday afternoon, collectively they will have dropped between $20 to $22 million in this fair burg. I gotcha meaning right here!
So, even though the tourney no longer means life and death (before 1975 only the ACC Tournament champion could advance to the post-season), the drama of the games themselves, the importance of bragging rights, and the social aspects of simply 'being there' seems to be enough to assure that the tournament will keep its status as an event with a capital E in perpetuity.
Or as long as Duke rhymes with puke and Chapel Hill is home to 10,000 sons of bitches.
To comment on this story, e-mail Ogi overman at ogi@yesweekly.com.
