Here in Tennessee you play football. As the UT football coach Derek Dooley said, Tennessee is the essence of college football.

In North Carolina we play basketball. Whether it be Duke, Wake Forest or UNC, we play basketball and we play it good. (OK, UNC is on a losing streak now). So it felt a little alien last Saturday when my brother and I found ourselves sitting in Thompson-Boling surrounded by thousands of people wearing orange, and who no doubt bleed orange.

After the players were introduced Coach Pearl's picture was displayed on the jumbo-tron, and a chant started moving through the crowd. At first, we thought everyone was booing him, but I couldn't think of anything he had done to get such a bad welcome on his home court. (Had someone caught a glimpse of Lane Kiffin?) Then I realized they were saying "Brrrrrruuuuuccccceeee."

It wasn't a very good game for UT in the beginning. Anytime Ole Miss got the ball and got anywhere near the basket, they shot and made it. But, the Volunteers did pretty good and kept the Rebels from running up the score too much. But, after awhile I began to think there is no way Tennessee will win this.

So, during the first three quarters the people watching was as interesting as the game. One lady in front of us, who looked like she might have been close to my grandmother's age, was coaching and sweating as much as Bruce Pearl. She could not sit still. She was jumping up and down, grabbing the railing in front of her - a few times I thought she might actually hurl herself over it - and she was calling all the players by name and telling them what to do. She stayed on Scotty's case particularly hard.

The guys behind us, although they were UT fans, were showing the team no mercy. They were calling the players idiots and telling them how lousy they were. Every time a player missed a free throw, one of the guys would question how in the world he could miss the shot. According to him, anybody can make a free throw. I guess that's why he was in a hard chair way up in the rafters and the guy he was yelling at actually had the ball down on the floor.

But, the Vol spirit was contagious. And by the fourth quarter things were really getting exciting. I was sitting on the edge of my chair. (Partly to get more comfortable). I couldn't believe it when people started leaving to beat the traffic. The game was getting close, the sound was vibrating off the walls as people cheered and stomped their feet. UT pulled ahead. Then Ole Miss was back on top. Then they were tied. And it went into overtime.

Before the game was over, I wasn't quite as pumped up as the little old lady in front of me, but I was cheering when UT scored and moaning in agony when they screwed up. It was a disgrace to my North Carolina roots, but I couldn't help myself. At least when it was time to leave we were walking out with thousands of happy people rather than an angry mob. But maybe that only happens when the football coach suddenly leaves.

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