Steeped in Tradition and Lore

Everybody who grew up in the region that
stretches from Maryland to Georgia has their childhood story about the ACC
tournament, about how it causes a big stir and how time stops in some places
when the tourney starts. My story is a small, seemingly unimportant one that
goes back to my sophomore year at Albemarle High School in Charlottesville.

Former Clemson great Larry
Nance.


I was in the library. I don’t remember what class I was there for, but I was
supposed to be studying. I didn’t get much studying done, though, because a
junior named Lisa Noble that I had a crush on was in the library with me, and I
was competing hard for her attention with a guy named Mike, whose last name
escapes me now, over 20 years later.


(For the record, though I didn’t know it at the time, I had already won that
competition. It was me that Lisa had eyes for, not Mike, and she and I would
later go out a number of times, until the age difference – a whole year! –
and young male stupidity – mine – got in the way of what could have been a
pretty good high school romance. Ah well, she was a sweetie, and I haven’t seen
her in over 20 years, and I hope she’s doing well. She would be thrilled to know
that when I picture her in my mind’s eye, she’s still full of the vigor and
beauty of youth. Oh, well, enough reminiscing…)

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