Everyone knows the saying of imitation and flattery.
When you’re running a college basketball game this winter–pretty much any game will–keep an eye on the student section of the local team. Look for the signs they carry, the costumes they wear, and how they wave, point, and sway. Listen to the coordinated chants. Notice how often their response to the game is less reactive than proactive, and how it is structured and rehearsed.
When that’s the case, you’ll see the Cameron Crazy effect.
Duke University’s student basketball department didn’t invent every aspect of the modern college basketball fan experience, of course. But they got into so much of it, it’s hard to argue that they didn’t master it and popularize it on an unprecedented level. Madmen are the model, the template—as the late Al Featherstone, a longtime Duke and Blue Devils alumnus put it, “the standard by which all others are measured.”
Their history is somewhat less clear than their influence. The designers of what was then called Duke Indoor Stadium when it opened in 1940 had enough foresight to give students priority courtside seating, and the old building no doubt saw its share of supportive crowds with its redesign as Cameron Indoor in 1972. (Legend has it that Cameron’s students invented the “Airball” chant in the late 1970s; it’s impossible to definitively prove, though no one else has offered a credible alternative.) But it wasn’t until sometime in the mid-1980s—also not yet. Long after Mike Krzyzewski arrived and began turning a very good program into one of the greatest in college basketball history – a place known for very good crowds has evolved into something…more.
It’s probably no coincidence that the vibrant tent city known as Krzyzewskiville was established outside of Cameron Indoor around the same time. This was the era when the Duke student section shifted from support and enthusiasm to purposefully formal and influential organization. It is also when their national influence was established at all times.
You can identify a host of ingredients that have contributed to making Cameron Crazy what it is. Part of it was success, sure. It’s easier to get excited about the team you’re rooting for when that team is playing well and getting wins. But there was, and still is, a symbiotic relationship between the madmen in the stands and the Blue Devils on the field. They feed off each other’s intensity and push each other to give it their all, no matter which side of the sideline they’re on.
Part of it is simple physical reality. Those who only saw it on television have a sense of what those who have been there firsthand know: the students at Cameron Indore are very close to the court. They cover an entire sideline, and their noise, energy, and reach with their arms seem like they’re all ready to devour the field and everyone on it.
“The first time I went out for a Blue White scrimmage was in 1996—I walked out and was like, Uh, the students are in there,” said Blue Devils associate director and former All-American head coach Chris Carwell. “It just hits you in the face. It’s like going to your favorite musician’s concert. The crowd will be electric.”
Assistant coach and former three-time Blue Devils captain Emil Jefferson builds on this analogy. “When I was in school, we started calling it ‘Club Cameron’ for the big games, because we knew it was going to be great,” he says. “The Madmen bring an incredible amount of intensity and emotion to our games. In the big games, you can literally see the pitch shaking. You can’t hear yourself…the echo starts. It’s deafening. It’s a bucket list. If you’ve never been there, it’s a must.” You feel it and experience it for yourself.”
Proximity is important, intensity is important, and without these two factors the influence of the madmen would not be what it is. But there is at least one vital element that sets these students apart, one that countless other student departments have tried to emulate but never matched: crazy people are smart.
Signs of Duke students’ originality and creativity are visible audibly and visually when the Blue Devils take court. For each generation, it’s part of the tradition—the honor of preserving the innovations brought to the gymnasium by the students who came before them—and of evolving in a way that honors what came before. It’s the signs. Face paint and wigs. It’s the hexagram. It’s Speedo Guy and Cookie Monster. It’s knowing everything there is to know about the opposing team’s players, and making sure those players know that too.
And of course, it’s cheers.
Every player from every generation has their favourites. Carwell is fond of the one that immortalized his former teammate: Who is your father? Batyr! Jefferson loved the cheers that responded to a great start. “When someone plays well early in the game, and that player sometimes gets more points than the opposing team, it’s like Grayson winning! Grayson winning! And you look, Grayson has 13 and the other team has 8.”
There are countless others, many of them dedicated to players, opposing teams, and moments in time. Many of them celebrate the Duke players – chanting “Another kid!” At the direction of Grant Hill’s parents on prom night he stays tentative throughout – while others, of course, make (mostly) good fun of opposing coaches and players. With the change of times and the development of society, some of what madmen did or shouted in the past will not necessarily fly today; But even then, the concern that they might ‘go too far’ had more to do with the media (like the national broadcaster once insisting on a time delay in case the audience got a little lively) or that visitors were being intimidated by the maniac’s enthusiasm. For the most part, the visiting players and coaches acknowledged the fans’ effort and impact on the game and appreciated the opportunity to compete in an environment unlike anywhere else in the country.
Famously, three years ago, such enthusiasm briefly angered Coach K, who thought the students had crossed the line with a chant calling Blue Devil alum and current Pitt manager Jeff Capel to “sit with us.” Afterwards, Krzyzewski admitted that he had misheard the chant and only reacted from the protection of one of the Blue Devils—ironically the motivation behind the students’ chant. Even in a rare moment of misunderstanding, the intentions of the fans and the teams were completely aligned.
At her best and most legendary, there is one fact about Cameron Crazy that stands above all others: She is an integral part of the Duke basketball experience, affecting the physical environment in a way that can and often does affect the bottom line. “It’s crazy,” says Carwell. It’s worth 20 points.
The exact number is impossible to measure, of course. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that the impact — on the games, on the team, on the entire Duke community, including the Crazies a lot — is undeniable.
“They give our team a purpose, to be honest,” says Jefferson. “It’s a family, people coming together for something bigger than themselves, because it’s Duke. It’s about us. We’re all in it together. The Crazies bring an amazing amount of energy and life to that gym. It’s a different level of willpower — a will that we try to instill in our players.” Our fans have that kind of will, so it’s great to see. And once they’re all there, it’s up to us to make sure we reciprocate that kind of passion by going out and playing our butts every night.”
Carwell puts it succinctly: “It is an honor and privilege to play opposite Cameron Crazies.”
Images via Getty Images.