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| In a long line of "woe is us, we're so hated" bullshit from Duke Nation, Kelly Flagg provides the most embarrassing yet. Jump Around responds. |
Dear Kelly Flagg,
Apparently, irony is a foreign concept to you. Are you familiar with the phrase “two wrongs don’t make a right”? Judging by your recent diatribe on Instagram—equal parts bullshit and tantrum—I wouldn’t bet on it. For the sake of conversation, I’ll humor your version of events, that Carolina fans somehow zeroed in on you from the moment you set foot in the Dean Dome. It’s a stretch, of course, but let’s have some fun.
Carolina fans aren’t lining up outside the gates to hurl insults at nameless parents. You’re overstating your relevance. No one knew who you were until you gave them a reason to notice—front and center on social media you’re way too dated to use, shouting from the tip-tops of your Karen box that isn’t nearly as tall as you think it is. If the goal was to embarrass yourself and your son simultaneously, mission accomplished. The head tap? Not even accurate. It’s for getting dunked on. Learn basketball shit talk if you’re going to indulge us.
Then we have your “apology,” or whatever that smug little statement was supposed to be. You proudly declare that your behavior should come as “no surprise” to anyone who knows you. Fascinating. Are you saying this is just who you are? That we should all just accept your lack of decorum as the baseline? Because if that’s the case, you managed to dismantle your entire argument before it even started. Exceptional work, truly.
Genuine question—were you just banking on everyone being too polite to call you out (yet another contradiction)? Politeness isn’t in play anymore—you skipped that part of the program. Carolina fans are happy being the welcoming ones, the “enjoy the game” ones, the “come to our boards and we’ll introduce you to the great spots in Chapel Hill” ones, until you turn us into the wrong ones.
And then we continue the journey of hypocrisy, you bringing up the word “classless.” Duke fans have made a living wearing their lack of sportsmanship like an achievement. From the outright entitlement to the personal insults—it’s the same exhausting story every time. But nothing encapsulates their manufactured arrogance quite like the Cameron Crazies printing cheer sheets stuffed with insults for players and their families. The fact that they sit down, plan out, and proofread their hate is absurd, almost as if overthinking hostility somehow legitimizes it.
A reminder: Duke is still the program that gave us Christian Laettner chest stomps, Grayson Allen trips and backhands on opposing players crotches, Coach K’s legendary official berating, floor slapping, flopping, crying, and Zion’s shiny new house. The truth is, Duke fans are classless, and they’ve worn it as a badge of honor for decades. The chants, the insults, the wild entitlement—it’s all part of the show, isn’t it? But the second Carolina fans feed you even an ounce of that same energy, you fall apart. How predictable.
Here’s what you don’t seem to grasp—you were never a target; you were a nonentity—until, of course, you gave the crowd every reason to notice you. And by the way, there’s nothing “classless” about refusing to roll out the red carpet for a rival. You walk into the building, you give yourself that risk. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Your son is talented, no doubt. Unfortunately, no one’s talking about him, which is the real tragedy of all this. Instead, they’re talking about you—the loud, self-absorbed distraction who happily overshadowed her own kid just to make herself the main character of a game that was never about her.
You want to dish it out? Fine. But don’t cry victim when it backfires. You came looking for a fight, Kelly. You just weren’t ready for one.
Sincerely,
A Classless Asshole
