BY RONNIE GALLAGHER
SALISBURY POST

You don’t mind if I write a letter to my wife, do you? Good.

Dear Joan,

We’ve been married over nine years now. You have known of my problem since the day we met. But I am now going public. I am admitting my addiction to all of Rowan County.

Every year, I think I’ve got it licked and then, December rolls around and I fall right back into the same ol’ routine. The fever becomes uncontrollable. I become a mess. An absolute mess.

I pace the floor, my mouth becomes dry and I grow very irritable over certain two-hour periods.

But my family watched the sickness when I was younger. Istill have friends who shake their heads. Now, you have had nine years to watch the addiction up close and personal. So I’ve decided again, that something must be done.

I’m sorry, honey, but my addiction will be taking me away from you. I have found out it’s a 4-month treatment.

Try to remember how good it will be when I return to you a new man with a clear head.

In other words, honey, I’m going to the TV downstairs. It’s college basketball season.

n

Joan, if you’ve learned anything over the past decade, it’s that there are plenty of us on Tobacco Road who suffer from this disease during the winter months. If we don’t hear at least one wham-bam-jam from Vitale per night, we suffer withdrawl symptoms. We start sweating profusely. We need a hoops fix before we cut off the light and go to bed.

I know you think I should’ve married the TV and left you at Sears but that’s not true. It’s just for four little ol’ months so bear with me, babe. In April, I’m yours.

n

I always write this letter to you at the start of December, don’t I? You know that I watch the games on TV and watch them from press row too. But this season, it is a more serious than ever before.

Ihave to cover our son. He’s playing in the ACC.

OK, OK, Scooter Sherrill really isn’t our son. But because Iwrote so many stories on the West Rowan All-American last year, people asked me on a daily basis if we were related.

When he went to Boston for the McDonald’s All-Star Game, there were no other family members there from North Carolina. No other members of the media were there either

Just me, looking out for Scooter.

So it’s my duty to make that 2-hour drive to Raleigh time and again to cover our kid — and Rowan County’s kid — as he dunks his way through his freshman year at N.C. State.

Gotta do it, honey. I can’t leave him now.

n

I know you don’t like basketball, dear. But I show you compassion. I realize where you come from. You’re from Long Island, New York, not exactly the hotbed of college hoops.

Down here, it is. And since I’ll be at a lot of the games, why don’t you watch ‘em. You may see your husband on national television.

Doesn’t excite you, huh?

Look, Joan. I take my basketball seriously. Did we not have a mural painted downstairs on the wall with some of my favorite ACC players? And right there among Christian Laettner, David Thompson, Vince Carter and Tim Duncan is Scooter. He even autographed the wall, for cryin’ out loud. And of course, a Tobacco Road mural is nothing without Dick Vitale painted on there somewhere.

But I did that for you. I hear he’s an Italian like you from up your way.

n

You say there are things about my addiction you can’t understand. For instance:

Why do I sleep with my Street &Smith?

Because it’s my security blanket. It lets me know everything in the world of college hoops. And for Pete’s sake, will you quit telling our friends I hug it tighter than you?

Why would I want to name one of our kids Michael Jordan Gallagher?

Because I wanted to name him after a famous ACC player and I didn’t think your Italian Catholic parents would go for “Rasheed.”

How can I be a fan of Duke and North Carolina?

Simple. I love my state. Iwish both teams could finish 30-1 every year with the only loss coming on the other team’s home floor. When Duke and North Carolina battle, I’m as calm as if it’s baseball season.

Why won’t I sit during a big game?

If you’re a true Tobacco Road fan, you must pace, scream, agonize, change the channel when your favorite team messes up, pace some more, holler ...

You say it appears I’m not enjoying myself. But pacing, leaving the room, returning, screaming and changing the channel is all part of growing up as a fan of the greatest college basketball conference in America. We expect ACC teams to win every game in a flawless manner. And when they don’t, we get a little whacked out.

n

Face it, darling. You’ve married a lunatic during the winter months.

Remember the night UNCfell behind to Florida State by 20 and we changed the channel? Remember that the other TVwas broken so when the Heels began rallying, you wouldn’t let watch the game?

Boy, I remember how happy I was when Iread that ESPNwas replaying it at 3:30 a.m. I set the clock (because Idon’t know how to program the VCR), woke up and started taping.

Do you recall jumping out of bed when the alarm went off, thinking it was time to go to work? I certainly remember the look I got when I explained that, yes, dear, it is 3:30 a.m. but I must tape basketball.

Ever wonder what the glare of an angry Italian woman can do to a man?

n

Joan, honey, you’re from New York. I’m from North Carolina. We live in North Carolina. So you must adapt to us. If we ever move to New York, I’ll adapt to field hockey and ice hockey and all of that other bull hockey.

But until that time comes, it’s basketball, dear.

Look, Joan, it’s a cold Sunday morning so I’m heading downstairs. I’ve got UNC-Kentucky and Duke-Temple on tape.

See you in April, when this state wins its fourth national title in the last decade and I return to you a new man with a clear head.

But don’t forget. You can have me during every halftime and every timeout. And I’ll listen to your every word.

That is, unless Vitale’s talking.

n

Ronnie Gallagher is the sports editor of the post.