NCAA men’s basketball tournament games have been held in North Carolina five of the past six years. (Keith Srakocic/AP)
Sports columnist

That the ACC men’s basketball tournament will be held a month from now in Brooklyn is both jarring and convenient. Jarring because after years of feeling like even Washington was too far north, a league steeped in barbecue-and-Brunswick stew tradition has made a two-year commitment to Gotham. Convenient because it means the league doesn’t have to endure the public scrutiny that would come from pulling its signature event from its home in North Carolina.

That’s what will happen, though. It’s coming. North Carolina, which has a deeper and richer connection with college basketball than any state in the country, is embarking on a six-year foray that seems unfathomable.

The NCAA is threatening, even if it won’t explicitly say so, not to host any championship events in the state through 2021-22. That includes the men’s basketball tournament. That includes the women’s soccer final four. That includes Division III lacrosse. That includes everything.

The reason: the Public Facilities Privacy and Facilities Act, which is commonly known as House Bill 2 (HB2) and even more commonly known as “the bathroom bill” because it requires people to use public restrooms assigned to the gender that appears on their birth certificates — a problem for transgender people, civil rights groups have pointed out. The law also provides non-discrimination rules for employment and service in public facilities, but those policies don’t cover gay or transgender people.

“It’s discriminatory,” North Carolina basketball Coach Roy Williams told a news conference Tuesday.

It is.

“I don’t like it,” Williams said. “I don’t think we should have it.”

The fine people of the state shouldn’t.

“It’s harmful to us, and it’s not right,” he said.

In North Carolina, the words of Williams matter, as do the words of his counterpart in Thursday night’s rivalry game, Duke Coach Mike Krzyzewski, who has called the situation “embarrassing.”

The bill, pushed by then-governor Pat McCrory and passed last March by the legislature, has been enormously controversial for its entire existence — railed against by businesses, among others, and supported by many social conservatives.

I know, I know. Stick to sports.

But the trickle-down here is obvious. On Monday, Scott Dupree, the executive director of the Greater Raleigh Sports Alliance — a group based in the state capital charged with drawing athletic events to the area — sent a letter to state legislators outlining the urgency of the situation. Dupree explained that unless and until HB2 is eliminated, “all North Carolina bids will be pulled from the review process and removed from consideration” for NCAA championship events.

Not just for next year. Not for the year after. But through 2021-22.

That includes things like, say, the Division II baseball championship that no one notices, sure. But it also includes yanking March Madness games from Charlotte next spring, just as it pulled first- and second-round games from Greensboro next month, moving them instead to Greenville, S.C.

The ACC, headquartered in Greensboro and a league more closely associated with its state than any other, almost certainly would follow suit by yanking out its championships, most notably men’s basketball tournaments in 2019 and 2020, scheduled for Charlotte and Greensboro, respectively.

In all, Dupree’s letter said, 133 NCAA bids over a four-year period are at stake. Those bids, he claimed, represent perhaps $250 million in economic impact for the state. But put the money aside.

“No state loves its college sports more than North Carolina,” Dupree wrote. “It’s part of our culture, our fabric and our history.”

Dupree declined to comment further, preferring to let his letter stand for itself. But people in his position across the state are dealing with the same issues.

“I try to be respectful of everybody,” said Will Webb, the executive director of the Charlotte Sports Foundation. “There are a lot of people who are supporters of HB2 who fervently believe in their position. But it’s challenging. We need politicians saying, ‘What have we really done here? What’s the real impact on economics? On pride? On companies moving to Charlotte?’ I talk to realtors all the time, and they say the phone isn’t ringing like it used to — and it should be.”

Webb’s group already lost this month’s NBA All-Star Game and last year’s ACC football championship game — which ended up pitting Clemson against Virginia Tech, two schools with fervent fan bases within easy driving distance.

“I shudder to think what that game would have done” in terms of hotel rooms, meals, tickets, etc., Webb said.

Instead, it was held in Orlando.

Now, according not only to Dupree’s letter but to people with knowledge of the situation, the NCAA is advising the committees that decide where to place various championships to pull North Carolina sites from consideration — at the last minute — if the legislature doesn’t overturn HB2.

For its part, the NCAA refused to confirm or deny those instructions to its committees — repeatedly. Various spokespeople over the previous three days would not respond to the question, forwarding instead a tepid statement that said the NCAA expects to announce future championship sites in April.

The group, of course, should be commended for pulling the events it has thus far. But it would benefit from transparency here. Does the NCAA believe North Carolina’s current policy is discriminatory and hurtful? If so, reiterate that. Show what’s at stake.

Because there is absolutely an effect on what the ACC will do. Conference officials expect that they will have to make a decision on the championship football game, scheduled for Charlotte, by perhaps April. The basketball tournament, which has been held in North Carolina 51 times in its 63 years, could be moved during the conference’s annual May meetings.

This is where the people who run sports can have an impact. This is where sports can matter. In the past six years, North Carolina has hosted games in the NCAA men’s basketball tournament five times. In the subsequent six years, that total could be zero.

That would eat at the identity of the state, just as the ugly law at the root of this situation is eating at its people — and their reputation.

For more by Barry Svrluga, visit washingtonpost.com/svrluga.