Back in 2018, as the second straight horrid season under Larry Fedora started circling the drain, I made an upset post joking that the football team is going to kill me. I had just found out I had cancer and was going to be getting chemo treatments every other weekend, including having to take a small pump home that would slowly drip the drugs into my system over the course of 30 hours. I figured at some point I would get so frustrated during a chemo weekend that I would take the device and throw it up against a wall.
UNC Football: It’s time for the Mack Brown marriage to end
