Last spring, Courtney Banghart earned the job of a lifetime when she was named the first new Tar Heels women’s basketball coach in 33 years, replacing a coach and taking over a program whose shine had faded under the tarnish of scandal and disconnection. The role is tailor-made for Jim Banghart’s daughter: An opportunity to repair a beloved thing that has fallen out of favor, to patch its holes and mend its stitches — and then go out and win with it.
Charlotte Smith's already spent part of a June evening in her Elon University office talking about the stuff that really matters: the lessons she’s learned since one improbable shot, a mere seven-tenths of a second in time, changed her life. How a win for the ages can turn into a long, expectant shadow, following you around for years after the last piece of confetti has fluttered to the court. How the world can shake you to your core, present death and divorce to you in a single year and dare you to keep your competitive edge, dare you to somehow grow from deep loss.
Carolina Alumni Review - March-April 2015 Thirty-six years as the gold standard courtside tactician would have been plenty. The man hired to plug holes in…
The task of defrocking an American hero did not have many takers — or believers. To let Lance Armstrong ride away free — he of the hero worship, the good works and the arm-twisting — would have been easy. But Travis Tygart knew it wouldn’t have been fair.
Rasheed Wallace is not what people have come to expect from a Dean Smith-coached player. Wallace himself admits he attracts as much vitriol as he does admiration. He's been called a "bad boy," a "Jailblazer" and a "cancerous lesion" on the league by his detractors.
But his supporters say he's misquoted, misunderstood, a marvel - and possibly the greatest basketball player Carolina has ever produced.
So do you dare to love Rasheed Wallace? And if you don't, should you?
For 25 years, Anson Dorrance '74 -- graduate of an all-boys boarding school -- has been the unlikely conductor of the greatest athletic social experiment since women began playing college sports. It's what you don't see in games, however, that keeps the whole thing brewing.
Nikki Teasley went home that night, her mind dark with thoughts. She was to leave the next day for Charlottesville to play Virginia. She began to consider all the ways she could end this torment. She had spent many a night before this one, praying that she would get seriously injured so she wouldn't have to play anymore, thinking about how she could hurt herself. But now she was cooking up a scenario about taking her own life, and, trembling, she started praying that someone could stop her.