I’m not supposed to be a cheerleader. I’m not supposed to pick a side. I’m supposed to sit in the middle on some imaginary fence, relaying what I see to you.

But today, I just can’t do it.

Today, I can’t pretend.

I hate the Tar Heels. And when they are wearing that powder blue, I hate their fans.

Perhaps it’s because of the superiority complex of which they reek — with their uninformed, uneducated John Deere and tractor-pull jokes. Oops, don’t call a Tar Heel uneducated — he’s convinced he’s smarter than you.

Ah, go suck on some cheese and wine.

I thought about delving into how sick I am of UNC folk thinking they are members of the intellectual-elite, but with those snobs, what’s the point? In the tradition of the two schools, I’ll leave them to fight the fickle, never-an-end arguments, and I’ll take up a real-life tangible problem that I can actually help solve.

I’m here to rally the troops for tonight’s game. I’m here to say what Herb Sendek and his players can’t say.

Our team — which is off to its best start since it won a national championship in 1974 — needs our help tonight.

So, here’s the deal.

Be in your seat 20 minutes before tip off, and let Roy Williams and his team know you’re there. Ask Roy why he always looks primed to defecate all over the court every 30 seconds.

When the game starts, be on your feet. Jump. Scream. Jump again. Wave whatever you can find. Jump some more. Tell the guy next to you to do it too. Smack him if he looks at you funny. If he still refuses, smack him again.

As soon as State has the ball, shut up. Don’t say anything.

And as soon as the Heels take over, start yelling and start jumping again.

Make as much noise as possible. Use anything you can find this afternoon. Bring cowbells. Bring whistles. Hell, bring a tambourine, I don’t know. Be creative.

If you’re lost, look at the Wolfpack Club sitting behind the benches. These guys know what’s up.

But listen, Wolfpack Club guys, we need you more than ever tonight. Set the example. Don’t let up. If you need motivation, just picture Rameses the Ram hugging up on your girlfriend. Stupid goat.

Alumni, let loose. For two hours tonight, you’re back in college. You have no rent to pay, no work to go to in the morning and no taxes to fill out. You’re a 21-year-old for two hours tonight. So scream. Jump. Whoa, careful there, don’t break a hip. Scream some more.

When UNC guys go to the free-throw line, yell. Do anything to draw their focus. Hell, why not bark at them? Goats hate wolves.

Band folk, just play a random note when they’re at the line. Seriously, pick a note and blow.

Keep it up the entire night. Be relentless. Be all over the Heels like John Bunting on a cupcake.

In an article yesterday on Sports Illustrated‘s Web site, the online magazine called UNC’s student section the 10th-best in the country. The mainstream media is convinced they’ve got us beat.

But I disagree. When it comes to this rivalry, N.C. State has the better fans, and here’s why — we’re tied together by more than loads of money and Michael Jordan paraphernalia.

We’ve been through a lot more together than anything they’ve had to face over there in Eden. We’ve had to sit through the losing seasons followed by the losing seasons. We’ve won the national championships, and we’ve fallen from grace.

But this is our season. This is our time.

If we decide, we can make the atmosphere at the RBC Center tonight as it’s never been before. If we decide, it could be the loudest, most difficult to play in the ACC — if not the entire country.

Remember — scream. Jump. Scream. Jump. Smack the boring kids.

I’ll see you tonight.