From the age of 4 years old, I was learning to be a Tarheel. I watched every basketball game I could. I studied the greats. Pete Chilcutt was one of my favorites. One of my greatest memories was watching my father play basketball on the floor of Carmichael during halftime of the blue white game. Phil Ford was my first hero guard. Kupchak was my first sharp shooter. I waited for him to warm up on the court and destroy opponents. Dean was just that The Dean. Later, my youngest brother won a 3 A state championship basketball game on the Dean Dome floor. To say I love UNC is a grand understatement.

Later, football became an great interest of mine. In junior high, I was coached by Micah Moon and a few other Tarheel pro players. We sucked as a team and my love for the sport dwindled with the inability to score a touchdown. I did love the “mad dog” blitz as a defensive end and waited anxiously for the call. I rarely got it. When I did, I was thrown off easily by a pump fake from the QB. I was not much of a player and I really did not give myself the time to develop into one. I did love the pain and the sacrifice it took to win. The everyday grind and beat down to just get better. I actually took pride in the bruises and the aches and pains to win.

I do love the game. I do enjoy the antics up to the game. Lawrence Taylor, Kelvin Bryant, Julius Peppers, and Natrone Means were some of my favorites. For many years after college I spent hours planning and cooking to help make Tarheel tailgates better. I am a huge fan.

I graduated from Chapel Hill High School in 1990. I had big dreams to become a well recognized artist and design specialist. Many days were spent on UNC campus with UNC students planning to make these dreams happen. As I looked at going to a University, I searched for the right fit. Surprising to me, UNC was not my first choice. So many of my classmates already had their plans made in Chapel Hill. I was not sure. I chose the mountains of the blue ridge and chose the hills of Appalachian. My parents were not so sure. I wanted to live in Boone, bad. I negotiated with them that I would attend Watauga College, a small school within App, to make sure my liberal arts degree would be fruitful.

At Appalachian State I renewed my passion for football. In those days App was mediocre at best. Barely won a playoff game, or much less make the playoffs. Western Carolina was our big rival and we did not always show against the Catamounts. The jug went back and forth. Football was king at App. Even if our team was not doing well, we would show. We would cheer. We would enjoy the day. I was not impressed with App basketball. I was spoiled. Used to the boys in blue. Used to talent. Used to hard work determination, selfless acts of passing, and defensive prowess. App had none of that. The one game I did attend was a mess. I watched my heels on tv instead.

Fast forward to this weekend: it was a great one for me. App State was coming to Chapel Hill to take on UNC in Kenan Stadium and I had the most prime tailgate location possible. These two teams had not played each other since 1940. It felt like all those years of people looking down at me for going to App instead of UNC were coming to a head. Like all of my childhood heroes were waiting to see what would come down the mountain to face them. Like this was the one chance to show how hard it is to sustain in the high country. How altitude affects attitude. How the “anyone, anytime, anywhere” philosophy works. You see, I knew this was going to be a great game. I knew that UNC faithful would rather take a weekend at the beach or golf 18 than watch this game. When I got into the stands and saw all the black and yellow, I knew we had a shot. Ok, so you scored first. But in the words of UNC soccer great Anson Dorrance, “we knew we were going to score a bunch of goals, we just did not know when. OK, so you scored first. We planned on making some score today anyway.” I was not rattled and neither were the Mountaineers. We owned the line of scrimmage. I was a proud Mountaineer. I was proud of our fight. I was proud of the composure. I was proud of our execution. I called the block kick. Even nodded my head at other App fans in the stadium before the outcome. Knowing our team had put in the work and the sacrifice to follow through.

For me, the Appalachian win in Kenan stadium was more than a big win. It was a statement. It was a realization that good sport is good practice. That whatever color you choose to wear on Saturday is bigger than history. It is about effort. It is about confidence. It is about working together to achieve a common goal. Concluding my decision to walk a higher path, a different course, was worth doing. It wasn’t an “I told you so”. It was a “I’ll show you so”. For THAT is the core of our being.

Thanks to all who made this day possible. Thanks for confirming what I knew all along. We are something special. We are a force of nature. We are APP STATE. We are Appsolutley awesome.