Saturday was one of the holiest days of the basketball season: the night UNC played Duke.

If you didn't know that, or don't care about it, just put the paper down now. You wouldn't understand how we Royaholics felt. Or, so many nights this season, especially after becoming national champions last March. You just wouldn't "get" our agonizing over the bewildering losses, the mounting injuries, and the repeated mistakes that have overwhelmed our hero ... oh, and the boys ... this season.

First, the constant, multiple injuries have plagued everyone from Roy (who had shoulder surgery ... I wanted to send flowers, but I thought his wife might have been irked) on down. I wouldn't be surprised at this point to hear that the team bus driver is in the hospital, and the entire cheerleading squad needs MRI's. So, unless someone has put a satanic curse on our team (possibly someone, say, from Duke, which, I'm just saying, is not all that improbable) the way I look at it, either this team is a crop of gigantic klutzes, or just big babies!

Now, being a gigantic klutz myself, I have a touch of sympathy for this disease (hey, if Tiger gets to call it a disease, so do I), but when you see your boys do things like, maybe, catching a ball and breaking a finger, or getting concussed by their own shoes falling out of their locker, well, it's time to reconsider the roster, in my opinion. However, they might be a bunch of crybabies:

"Coach, Marcus pushed me and now my stomach hurts."

"Son, what Marcus did - that's called GUARDING!"

"Yeah, I know, but my stomach hurts, I gotta sit down, I don't think I can play for a week or two."

"Me, either, Coach. Deon just shoved me, and I fell, and I think my tailbone's messed up."

"Deon didn't shove you, son, he's 'driving to the basket!'"

"Yeah, well, it feels like he drove right over my tailbone."

But, the most painful thing of all is watching Roy's face. His endearing smile has disappeared. His once-sparkling eyes are perplexed. His worry lines have deepened and engraved themselves upon his countenance, the wind has stilled, the seas have swelled, and the animals have ... wait a minute, that's the Bible, but anyway, it's the same thing.

My poor Roy seems baffled by the performance of his boys this season, although, being a refreshingly modest Southern gentleman, he's blaming himself. He's said a number of times that he's "obviously not coaching them well," which is hogwash!

I mean, sure, it takes a while to learn the characters and quirks of new players (and, there are more new faces than old ones on that bench this year), and for those players to learn the expectations of their new coach, and perhaps a few losses could possibly be partially due to mistakes in coaching technique with certain players, but after those first few games, it seems to me that it's up to those players to GET WITH THE PROGRAM!

It's like my parents used to say, whenever I'd come home whining that a teacher didn't like me, or that she and I had a "personality conflict." My parents had no patience with such complaints. They'd shoo them off as if they were shooshing away a fly, and say, "Well, then you'd better change your personality, Missy!" (They always called me missy when they were shooshing off my complaints -- I'm telling you, my childhood was just a nightmare!)

Now, I have no personal knowledge that the boys', shall we say, unrestrained self-esteem, is the problem this season, but that is what I suspect, having been a teacher for a long time ... I mean a very, very ... very long time. And, so many parents today have NEVER said to their children what our parents said to us.

But, no matter how our season ends up (and, although I'd never presume to pray about it with all the real problems in the world today, we all know God is a Tar Heel -- why else is the sky Carolina blue?) I'm just saying, if these boys really want to play for the brilliant (and adorable) coach who's taken not one, mind you, but TWO Carolina teams to national championships, well, they'd better buckle down and change their frickin' personalities!

It's up to them to fit themselves to Roy's coaching style, not the other way around. They need to check those egos at the door ... or, don't let the door hit you ... well, you know what I'm saying.

Vicki Wentz is a local writer and speaker, and a Chapel Hill teacher. Readers may contact her at chh@heraldsun.com or c/o The Chapel Hill Herald, 2828 Pickett Road, Durham, NC 27705.