UK Wildcats Basketball: A Love Affair

Jasen Vinlove-USA TODAY Sports

Shortly after the final horn sounded and Kentucky had secured victory in its Round of 32 match-up against Wichita State I made a vow: I would not discuss Kentucky’s upcoming Sweet 16 game versus Louisville, at least not publicly. I would refrain from talking about the game with Kentucky fans and I would avoid being dragged into a debate with Louisville fans. While I’d like to think I could do so in a calm, rationale, fun-spirited manner, the truth is that it is simply too easy to become the crazy superfan in a blink of an eye.

But when you write about Kentucky basketball, avoiding talking about the game is near impossible. Near impossible but not completely. Below is a piece I wrote two years ago on the 20th Anniversary of the Duke-Kentucky East Region Final. It sums up my love affair with Kentucky basketball as well as I could ever hope to describe it.

“To hear my father tell the story, it was inevitable that I would grow up and be a Kentucky basketball fan. According to him, as an infant I would lean against his body as he lay on the floor watching basketball—Kentucky basketball. And occasionally he would nod off around the 5 minute mark of the first half only to wake up after halftime and see me sitting there watching the game.

Being a Kentucky basketball fan inevitable? As sweet as those memories sound, I don’t remember a single one. I do remember, however, owning a bright red University of Louisville jacket as a second grader. I don’t actually remember rooting for UofL as much as I remember trying to fit in at school (my elementary school was predominately African-American and on my side of town UofL was known as the team black people rooted for; UK was the team white people rooted for) as well as trying to be different from my parents. I wore a UofL jacket not because I was a fan but because my parents absolutely were not fans–I wore a UofL jacket in spite. Even at 8 years old, I was an asshole.

(The Bug shows this same independent streak. It is why I am convinced that–although I have taught him several UK cheers–the longer we live in Ohio the more likely it is that he will grow up rooting for Ohio State, the Cincinnati Reds, and the Bengals. Hell, just to piss me off, he might also grow up rooting for Real Madrid and Arsenal)

My flirtation with Louisville basketball was over almost as quick as it began (insert crude Rick Pitino joke here). I don’t know why—maybe it was my father angrily discussing the sanctions the NCAA leveled against UK as a result of rules violations or perhaps it WAS inevitable that I become a fan—but by the time I was 10, I was cheering for UK. My UofL jacket had long been discarded in the bin of items to give to the thrift store. 

I started playing t-ball when I was 3 years old. I played for the Angels. Then I played for the Astros. At 7, I moved up to the next division and became a Dodger. In 1988, the Los Angeles Dodgers—those other Dodgers—played in the World Series against the Oakland A’s. Although I had been playing baseball for 5 years, Game 1 of the Series is the first baseball game I can remember watching. My first real baseball memory is Kirk Gibson’s home run off of Dennis Eckersley. From that moment on, I was hooked on baseball and—although I passionately root for the Cubs and the Braves—I will always have a place in my heart for the Dodgers. 

For me, my love affair with sports—with specific teams—is rooted in these types of memories. 

With Kentucky basketball it was “The Shot.”

Today is the 20th anniversary of “The Shot.” I don’t need to go into detail about that game or that moment. We all know to what I am referring. 

Here’s the thing: I can remember details from that season as though they happened 20 days ago instead of 20 years ago. What stands out more than anything is Senior Day and Richie Farmer taking the microphone during pre-game festivities saying, “Some kids want to be a doctor when they grow up, or a ‘rassler but I wanted to be a Kentucky basketball player.” I can remember my father taping the first game of the SEC Tournament against Vanderbilt and us watching it together. I remember being nervous about playing LSU only to watch Shaquille O’Neal get into a fight against Tennessee, leading to his ejection and subsequent suspension. I remember the Sweet 16 game against UMass—mostly because of the half-court shot UMass made at the buzzer before halftime.

But none of those memories stand out as much as “The Shot.”

It remains the only game after which I have cried. And not just a few tears running down my cheek but full-on uncontrollable sobbing. I was eleven. A couple of months ago I read Gene Wojciechowski’s book on the Duke-Kentucky game. The last twenty pages or so are somewhat of a blur because I read them with tear-filled eyes.

The immediate fall-out from that game and that moment was being harassed by a kid the following Monday who cheered for Duke (Seriously, what 5th grader in Kentucky cheers for Duke?!?). The long-term fall-out was that I had, at last, fallen in love with Kentucky basketball. What seemed inevitable to my parents was finally true. I was hooked.

My wife is not a sports fan. She begrudgingly humors me and is generally a good sport about watching a basketball game or soccer match with me. I’ve been able to drag her to a couple of baseball games without much protest. But the lengths I’ve gone to watch Kentucky basketball–the effort, the energy, the time, the money–she simply does not understand. She thinks I’m silly, at best. Truth is, nothing I can say or do would ever make her understand. 

But if you’re a fan, you understand. It’s not silly or stupid or ridiculous. It’s completely normal. That’s how love affairs are. To an outsider it is silly and stupid and ridiculous. But isn’t that the best part about being in love with something?”