“I’m headed to Birmingham Thursday morning,” I told her. Then quickly added: “The Birmingham in Alabama.” Because, for all she knew, maybe I was off to Birmingham, England, to catch a few soccer matches.

“Really, what’s down there?” she demanded.

At least she knows Alabama is located “down there,” I reasoned silently. That was comforting. So all that money spent on her University of North Carolina education wasn’t wasted, after all.

“Your Tar Heels are down there,”I said, using the phrase, “your Tar Heels,” because Tracy, a proud member of the Class of ‘83, once claimed to be a personal friend of Al Wood.

“But they lost,” she replied, dubiously.

“Yeah, they lost 13 times,” I said, sticking in the knife, then twisting it.

“But I saw them lose last week,” she persisted.

“True,” I said, “and to NIT-bound Wake Forest, of all people. But that was the ACC Tournament. I’m going to the NCAA Tournament.”

Then Iproceeded to patiently explain the important difference between the two postseason tourneys, all the while assuring her that yes, North Carolina is still playing.

You have to remember that Tracy, wife, mother of two and productive member of the work force, doesn’t have a lot of time on her hands and can often be blissfully oblivious to sporting matters that are life and death for many of us.

But then again, she’s not the only one surprised that the Tar Heels are still playing.

My mother is surprised.

She became a Tar Heel fan in early childhood — about the time she first saw Choo Choo Justice carry a football in the ‘40s. She’s bled the light blue since then, cheering wildly for everyone from Ed Stahl to Ed Cota, as a series of sisters, nephews, daughters and grandchildren attended the University.

But this year, even she is hard on the Heels, which may mean the apocalypse is at hand.

“They shouldn’t be in the NCAAs,” she says. “They don’t try, and they don’t deserve it. What about poor Virginia?”

That’s when I broke the news to her that the Post was sending me to Alabama — by way of Raleigh and Cincinnati, by the way —to follow the Tar Heels.

“You of all people,” she said.

Me, of all people, is right. The Tar Heels lost my affection for good in 1966 — on the day Dean Smith unveiled his “Four Corners” against Duke. The final, as I recall, was 21-20. Duke won. As a 10-year-old, I raced around the house screaming joyfully. Good had triumphed over evil.

OK, I went to school at Carolina — a decision which sent several of my friends into therapy — but I was never a convert.

In the midst of the Cold War, I cheered on the visiting Soviet National team when it came to Carmichael Auditorium to take on the Heels. And I celebrated with a three-day moratorium on going to class when Furman upset the Heels once upon a time in the North-South doubleheader.

But I guess I’m getting old. I’ve mellowed to the point where I feel sorry for the current Heels. They’re maligned not only by ABC folks, but by their own people.

I eat lunch with a bunch of Heel supporters once a week, and while not one of them feels Carolina is unjustly a part of the tournament, all of them insist the Heels will be a part of it for two games at the most. More likely, they say, just one. When they filled out their pool brackets, they had the Heels sinking against ex-Dukie Quin Snyder’s mediocre Missouri team.

I disagree. I think Carolina will play for awhile, and not just because I want to live on the road for a few weeks.

The Heels can play with anyone. Sure, they’re a step slow, but unlike most of the teams in this tournament, they can shoot. All five starters can score and score big. This team was, Ibelieve, a preseason top five pick, by everyone in the world. You ask me, and the Heels’ problems are more psychological than physical.

I watched them beat Maryland — everyone says the Terps are great — on a night when they moved the students down front at the Smith Center and the Tar Heels got fired up.

I also watched Carolina demolish Duke in the second half to force overtime at Chapel Hill. I was at courtside to see Duke play a dozen times this season. That game at the Smith Center was the only time I saw Chris Carrawell and Shane Battier give each other that look that says, “We can’t stop these guys.”

I repeat. The Heels don’t lack talent. They’ve lacked chemistry and consistent motivation.

Tar Heel fans will be glad to tell you they’ve also lacked coaching. But I won’t pile on beleaguered Bill Guthridge. He’s no Coach K or Dean Smith, but he’s OK. Two years ago, when he was 34-4 and had Vince Carter and Antawn Jamison flying around, everyone was telling me Guthridge was the greatest rookie coach in history.

Anyway, I like Carolina’s chances against Missouri (you know they’d like to beat Quin one more time). Their second-round matchup against Stanford, a power team as opposed to a quick team, is more favorable than it would be against any other No. 1 seed.

History is on the Heels’ side. You can make a lot of comparisons to 1990 when the Heels entered the tournament 19-13 and won two games, including an upset of No. 1 seed, Oklahoma. That 1990 team, like the current team, had talent but lost 13 games even with Dean coaching. Future pros George Lynch, Rick Fox, Scott Williams, Hubert Davis and Pete Chilcutt were part of that team. Sometimes, it’s not about talent. Sometimes it’s motivation.

More history. The Tar Heels have fared well in Birmingham. Five years ago, they beat Georgetown and Kentucky in “B-ham” to reach the Final Four.

I try hard to explain to Tar Heel fans why they’re going to do OK, but no one listens.

Even Mom looks at me and shakes her head. “You’ll be home early,” she says. “You shoulda gone with Duke.”