Why Do We Love Duke Football Despite Hating Duke Basketball?
Duke football's unexpected win against Clemson has turned them into the underdog that everyone loves, especially considering Dabo Swinney's controversial statements.
Monday night's Clemson vs. Duke football game in Week 1 was a surreal experience. The entire world seemed to rally behind Duke, which was unexpected and intriguing. It was a convergence of attention, schadenfreude, and fascination that transformed the Blue Devils into the mischievous Loki of the night, a villain that was impossible to despise.
The cognitive dissonance was overwhelming. In March, Duke basketball is universally despised, so why has Duke football suddenly become the darling of the people?
The preference for favorites is common among loyal supporters, while underdogs captivate the rest of us. This phenomenon is not unique to any particular country; it is a global fascination. We all relish witnessing an underdog triumph over a dominant force. On a smaller scale, it provides the incredible drama we crave and generates a week's worth of amusing banter about a struggling team. But there is a deeper significance at play.
Few things in sports are worse than a sense of certainty. The excitement is drained from a sport when we can predict the playoff contenders or championship contenders before the season even begins. An underdog shocking the world, especially in college football, signifies two things:
This perfect storm occurs fairly frequently, but perhaps not as prominently as when the 9th-ranked Clemson team embarrassingly lost 28-7 to Duke on national television.
Imagine if your most obnoxious uncle started a TikTok account, and that account gained sentience. That would be Dabo Swinney. In a world where everyone is disingenuous, he consistently stands out as one of the most insincere individuals in his profession.
Don't misunderstand me, Dabo's personal journey is genuinely remarkable. Growing up in poverty in Alabama, earning a spot on the Crimson Tide as a walk-on, and translating that into a coaching career that rivals Nick Saban's achievements in the last decade is truly amazing.
However, any goodwill that his story generated has been overshadowed by Dabo's transformation into one of the most complaining figures in college football. He once claimed he would quit if college players were ever compensated, only to sign a 10-year, $93 million contract shortly after. His attitude towards his own players reflects a man who would rather see others struggle as he did, rather than wish for a more equitable life for the less fortunate.
"We try to teach our guys to utilize football as a means to create opportunities, take advantage of their platform, brand, and marketing. But when it comes to paying players and professionalizing college athletics, that's where I draw the line. I'd rather do something else because there's already enough entitlement in this world."
In November 2020, when FSU canceled their game against Clemson due to a player testing positive for Covid, Dabo used it as an opportunity to take a shot at Florida State instead of understanding the importance of prioritizing safety during a pandemic that claimed over 1,200 lives per day that month.
Dabo thrives on confidently discussing topics he knows little about, always possessing strong opinions. It is ingrained in him to have an opinion even when he lacks knowledge, a trait that unfortunately resonates with many.
So, when "Mr. Don't Pay Players and You're Soft For Caring About Covid" suffers such a spectacular defeat, and it becomes evident that he hasn't achieved much without quarterbacks like Trevor Lawrence or Deshaun Watson, it's undeniably entertaining.
Never underestimate the power of humor. When we examine Duke football's history, their supposed "best" players are either depicted in black-and-white photographs or pencil sketches found on cigarette pack trading cards.
Currently, their only recognizable name in the NFL is Daniel Jones, who resembles an accountant who made a wish to be a football player after encountering Zoltar. He is undoubtedly talented (though perhaps not as exceptional as Giants fans believe), but he is the least prototypical football player in the NFL.
Jones embodies the essence of Duke itself. It may not fit the traditional mold, and its greatness may be questioned, but it is undeniably enjoyable to watch.
Duke football also possesses a sense of humor.
This is where things get interesting. Duke basketball has been a dominant force for decades, and even after Coach K's retirement, there are no signs of their reign ending. They remain a formidable team, but we still find ourselves rooting for their early elimination because Duke basketball fans always expect dominance through "playing the right way."
Duke football does not carry the same historical baggage. They lack a student section of self-proclaimed "crazies" who unleash their fervor like venture capitalists at Burning Man. While the fans may be the same, there is something inherently less obnoxious about Duke supporters when they are passionately cheering in an open football field compared to the confines of Cameron Indoor Stadium.
That perception may change. Duke football is currently excelling and could be a legitimate dark horse contender for the ACC title this year. For now, they remain the plucky underdog on the rise, and it is perfectly acceptable to embrace them... at least for now.
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