So I went to Amedeo’s for lunch yesterday.

Amedeo’s is a cheery Italian restaurant adjacent the NCSU campus.  If you haven’t been there yet, it’s worth going for the cultural experience alone.  Festooned in cheesy 1970’s Italian restaurant styling, it is packed with NCSU college sports memorabilia and photos.  One doesn’t need to be a fan of the collegiate games to appreciate the lore.

Admittedly - I don’t like college sports.  And it’s not even a passing love-it-or-leave-it feeling; I really think it should be called what it is: professional sports.  “College sports” evokes ideas of house league beach volleyball games and ultimate frisbee on the residence front lawn.  Gazillion-dollar stadiums and coaches making more than some fortune-500 CEO’s is something entirely different.

That said, I recognize that there’s a lot of good in college sports.  The enthusiasm and collegiate patriotism it inspires is the thing of comradery, rivalries and good memories.  I was reminded of this recently when I went for a walk on the Duke University campus, and observed a veritable tent-city outside of the athletic building.  Tickets for some particular game (the details of which I forgot moments into my conversation with the security guard) don’t go on sale until March 8, but there they were - braving the January “winter” (I use the term loosely here) weather - to get good seats.

Now, the knee-jerk jerk inside of me says, “what kind of deranged idiot would camp two months for tickets?”  I’m reminded that this same knee-jerk jerk drove a Harley Davidson Sportster straight from Raleigh to Toronto in one day (800 miles, 14 hours).  Different, yes, but no less insane.

The things we do for love.

But back to Amedeo’s.  While I was chowing down on my spinach fettuccine alfredo, I noticed a small picture on the wall with a caption about “Jimmy V”.  I have heard the name in passing, but didn’t know anything about it other than the fact that it’s connected with an annual golfing event (a sport whose mere mention puts me into fits of uncontrollable laughter - partly because of Robin Williams’ brilliant parody of the sport, and partly because of the absurdity of overweight white men wearing ridiculous costumes and driving little plastic carts to pummel a tiny ball eighteen times).

I did a Wiki lookup on Jimmy Valvano.  If you already know who he is, then you’re certainly not going to learn anything new from me.  If not, click the link and learn for yourself.

He’s the kind of person who could even make a cynical bastard like me appreciate college sports.

That, and a good bowl of spinach fettuccine alfredo, of course.