Positively Presidential

Kentucky’s 40-34 victory over Missouri was resoundingly memorable—but probably not in the way you’re thinking. Sure, Stephen Johnson was solid as usual, passing for 298 yards and 2 touchdowns. Benny Snell Jr. was also decent, rushing for 117 yards and two scores, including a career-long 71-yard jaunt in the second quarter. Unfortunately, the Wildcat secondary went MIA all evening, allowing the Tigers a whopping 568 total yards on several humongous passing plays. Despite all the drama, the Cats go to 5-1 on the year heading into their bye week, with a colossal matchup against Mississippi State in Starkville looming on the imminent horizon.

As is so often the case, the personal significance of a particular ballgame lies not so much in the final result, but in the experiences surrounding the people attending. For this game, I was fortunate enough to witness some of the action from the presidential suite of Dr. Eli Capilouto. The UK president had invited my ninety-year-old father and his grandson as personal guests—with my brother, sister-in-law, and I drafting behind as tag-a-long visitors. You see, my dad personifies benevolence on a grand scale. His generous donations creating a series of endowed university scholarships have earned him this special invitation.

I’ve rarely been in a stadium suite, much less the presidential luxury suite. I generally don’t get to mingle with rich people and I’m never comfortable hobnobbing with the academic and political elite, but seeing my dad and his grandson in the presence of royalty–enjoying a Kentucky football homecoming win amongst such lavish surroundings–brought a tear or two even to these calloused eyes. Because even though he’s essentially giving away my inheritance through his altruism, I don’t really care. Seeing him honored in such a personal way, evoked a sense of internal pride I never knew existed.

My father, “Pete” Huang, is a first-generation Chinese immigrant embodying the American dream. In 1967, this amazing man moved his family to Lexington, joined the Civil Engineering faculty, and started a life-long love affair with the University of Kentucky that extends to this day. In addition to instilling in me the importance of a solid education, he also introduced me to a passion for sports—specifically UK basketball and football. Although we never had regular access to tickets, we rarely missed any games—faithfully listening to Cawood’s radio broadcasts while sitting at the kitchen table balancing algebraic equations and factoring polynomials.

Not only did all three of the Huang children obtain UK undergraduate degrees, we all received graduate diplomas and professional doctorates from Big Blue U. You might say we’re entirely inbred. As a result, the UK Colleges of Pharmacy, Dentistry, and Medicine churned out three die-hard Wildcat fans that will forever bleed blue. If you added up the number of years that Pete and his children were affiliated with UK as students and faculty, the cumulative total comes out to an amazing 81 years.

Having already poured out his heart and soul in a lifetime of service to the University, Pete wanted to continue giving in a tangible way. Through these Huang Family Endowed Scholarships, he’s hoping that future deserving students will continue to benefit from some of the same educational opportunities that he provided for us. John Wesley, the Christian theologian credited with leading the Methodist movement, once said, “Make all you can, save all you can, give all you can.” My dad, in his lifetime, has certainly taken those simple and direct words to heart.

Early in the game, as Stephen Johnson connected with Blake Bone for a touchdown that put the Cats up 7-0, I glanced surreptitiously over at my dad. He seemed as though he was lost in his thoughts, perhaps reliving the life events that brought him to the incongruity of this particular moment. I found myself doing the same—wondering how first-generation father-and-son immigrants, born of such modest means a world away, could somehow end up in the Presidential Suite together, cheering so passionately for the Blue and White.

In this day and age, when arguments abound of whether student athletes should be paid, it’s validating to see that many still deem the establishment of university scholarships as worthy endeavors. Two of the biggest influences in my lifetime have been my parents and the University of Kentucky. When the two team up in such a magnanimous way, the results become positively presidential.

John Huang is a retired orthodontist and a columnist for Nolan Group Media. If you enjoy his writing, you can read more at Huangswhinings.com or follow him on Twitter @KYHuangs.

Check out his most recent UK Sports coverage at http://www.themanchesterenterprise.com/category/uk-live-breathe-blue/

Check out his most recent Cincinnati Bengals coverage at http://www.bluegrasssportsnation.com/category/writers/john-huang/

 

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Why I Like Mark Stoops

Football is a rigorous and carnal sport, so I like my head football coaches fiery and passionate. When the chips are down, I want a leader who’s pacing the sideline, red-faced and emotional, motivating players, yelling at assistants, and arguing with refs. Show me someone calm and collected, reticent and reserved, tight lipped and poker faced, and I’ll show you a coach who looks as if he doesn’t give a damn. Give me Woody Hayes over Jim Tressel any day of the week. I’ll take an animated Pete Carroll over a stoic Bill Belichick just for the difference in energy level alone. Marvin Lewis in this day and age? No thanks! Enthusiasm, spirit, and zeal are what counts in my book.

For this reason, I like Mark Stoops. The fifth-year UK head football coach has always worn his emotions on his sleeve while pacing the sidelines of both Commonwealth Stadium and Kroger Field. He’s been known to give the officials an earful when he thinks his team’s been shafted. I’ve seen him toss a few headphones as the clock winds down and his team fails to execute. In the closing seconds of the Georgia loss last year, I thought seriously that he’d blow a gasket. When he stormed onto the field, shouting at the opposing sidelines during the bowl game against Georgia Tech, I fully expected fisticuffs to follow.

The fraternity of recent Wildcat football coaches hasn’t really been rife with outwardly demonstrative characters. Joker Phillips often appeared comatose on the sidelines and unfortunately his team usually reflected his demeanor. I don’t remember Guy Morriss being much more animated either. Bill Curry was just one notch above the walking dead while Hal Mumme was more flakey than exuberant. Rich Brooks and Jerry Claiborne would occasionally let loose, but in a grandfatherly kind of way. Fran Curci reminded me of a mafia don—too cool to mess with on the field of play.

One of the biggest knocks against the current UK head coach is his lack of sideline management during urgent situations. Immediately after the heart-wrenching defeat against Florida last week, Stoops took a boatload of criticism for the eye-popping mistakes that cost his team the game. Even for someone like me, who has never coached a game outside of my Fantasy football league, those boo-boos were inexcusable. Give the guy credit, though, he owned up to them immediately. “There’s things that we all can do better, starting with myself,” Stoops said during his weekly press conference Monday. “That (loss) hurt (and) that we have to take responsibility for, that we have to do better (and) it starts with me.”

The interesting thing is that as temperamental as Stoops appears on the sidelines, he’s completely different when he’s away from the football field. I’ve seen him at charity events and social functions and he’s as relaxed as my newly permed hair. You won’t see him stomping around the neighborhood kicking yard signs and scaring toddlers. When he’s around friends and family, he appears to be just another normal dude. Heck, I’ve even seen him shooting hoops with his sons and cuddling his puppy.

So when it came time for me to ask him directly about how his emotions play into his coaching style, here’s what he said. “It’s an emotional game,” he acknowledged. “That’s for sure. But there’s also a lot of poise that it takes to execute in this game. Our players are the same way. I want them to have great emotion, but they have to play with discipline. As a coach there’s always that fine line that you have to go with your gut instincts on what those players need at that moment. That’s the way I’ve always been and probably how I’ll always be. But, certainly, you have to have the poise and the execution. That’s what’s most important.”

Take some poise, execution, and discipline, and mix in a heaping helping of passion, emotion, and fire—and you’ve got the ingredients for a winning football coach. Now toss in a generous serving of humility and a big dose of accountability just for good measure. That’s Mark Stoops, and that’s why I like him.

John Huang is a columnist for Nolan Group Media. If you enjoy his writing, you can read more at www.huangswhinings.com or follow him on Twitter @KYHuangs.

Check out his most recent UK Sports coverage at http://www.themanchesterenterprise.com/category/uk-live-breathe-blue/

Check out his most recent Cincinnati Bengals coverage at http://www.bluegrasssportsnation.com/category/writers/john-huang/

Cock Shuttle Blues

The word fan is short for fanatic. With that being said, most fans know there are still both acceptable and unacceptable methods of expressing your fanaticism for your particular team. It’s OK to prioritize never missing a UK basketball game for nineteen straight years ala the late “super fan” Bob Wiggins. It’s also fully justifiable to get a championship 40-0 tattoo even before your team wins the championship as did Rock Wright in 2015. What isn’t acceptable, however, are egregious acts such as an Alabama fan poisoning the oak trees on Toomer’s Corner in retaliation for perceived affronts by rival Auburn fans. Kentucky fans allegedly making death threats against referee John Higgins for disputed calls he made in the North Carolina game also cross the proverbial line of decency.

I experienced my own mini version of “fandom run amok” after UK’s big victory over USC this past weekend. As a member of the media, I opted to take advantage of a post-game stadium-to-parking lot media shuttle the University of South Carolina was providing for all working members.

I knew something was a bit amiss when the golf cart shuttle driver drove right past me with a distinctly unwelcome scowl on his face. Regretfully, I never noted his name, so from here on I’ll just refer to him as Mr. Scowly-face. I caught up with Mr. Scowly-face as he stopped to pick up a couple of other media types. I asked him if he were going to the media lot, to which he abruptly replied, “Yes, but not for you.” After a brief moment of confusion, I realized he was staring directly at the UK logo plastered on my blue UK shirt. This guy was a die-hard Gamecock fan and he was mad as heck that we had just crushed his team.

I’m not a mind reader so I can’t say with absolute certainty I knew exactly what he was thinking. Maybe he was just tired, or perhaps he was having a terrible day, or maybe he just had a very warped sense of humor, but I doubt it. Mr. Scowly-face seemed dead serious about NOT giving me a lift. I promise you I didn’t do anything to provoke him. My immediate post-game smugness had long since dissipated. I was no longer fist pumping or chest thumping. There were no “Go Big Blue” or “How ‘bout them Cats” chants coming from my mouth. I was just one exhausted dude looking for the quickest way home. My only indiscretion was foregoing my customary suit and tie and wearing my casual team colors into hostile enemy territory.

As I headed on foot toward the parking lot, Mr. Scowly-face apparently changes his mind, tells me to hop on, and blasts out of the shuttle stop like Apollo 13 on liftoff. I remember immediately feeling an impending sense of doom as to how fast we were traveling—almost as if Mr. Scowly-face was on some sort of Kamikaze mission to dispose of an enemy journalist. Right before impact, I hear a “WATCH OUT” from one of my fellow riders at which time we crash head-on into another unsuspecting golf cart.

I’m immediately jolted out of my Twitter-induced reverie by the suddenness of the impact. My left knee took a bit of a hit, but otherwise all fingers and toes are accounted for. Fortunately, no one else appears seriously hurt either as Mr. Scowly-face inspects his golf cart for any potential damage. Forgive me for being a bit melodramatic, as one of my best friend’s mom was killed when her golf cart flipped over– but I’m praising God that we managed to somehow stay upright. Miraculously, his cart remains functional and Mr. Scowly-face proceeds on to our intended destination. “Well now you’ll have something exciting to write about,” are his parting words to me. Be careful what you ask for.

King Solomon once said, “Better a patient person than a warrior, a person who controls his temper than one who takes a city.” Solomon could have been talking to Mr. Scowly-face or to all sports fans in general. When the Cats lose, I’m often ready to blow a gasket. Ironically, that’s also why sports are so great. We can be passionate. We can be intense and emotional. We can get mad and vent because at the end of the day, it’s all just fun and games for us fans. It’s only when we take a crushing defeat on the field or court and confuse it with the important events in our real lives, that we end up doing stupid and hurtful things that violate the rules of common sense and decency.

I’m not mad at Mr. Scowly-face. In fact, I feel kind of sorry for him. But bad choices come with consequences. The reality is that if one of those carts did flip over, this commentary would have taken on a completely different tone. I’ve been told that the University of South Carolina is investigating this incident. Ray Tanner, the director of athletics has been informed and the department promises that it will be appropriately addressed. In the meantime, for my next shuttle ride in enemy territory, I’m going back to my neutral-colored suit and tie.

If you enjoy my writing, please visit me again at Huangswhinings.com or follow me on Twitter @KYHuangs.

Check out my most recent UK Sports coverage at http://www.themanchesterenterprise.com/category/uk-live-breathe-blue/

Check out my most recent Cincinnati Bengals coverage at http://www.bluegrasssportsnation.com/category/writers/john-huang/

Beach Bowl Prediction

Hattiesburg, Mississippi, lies a scant 77 miles from the serene blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Prior to covering Kentucky’s road opener, my plans were to spend a few sun-splashed days on the Biloxi beaches preparing my perilous prognostication for the upcoming Wildcat season. Perhaps some glorious sunrises, an abundance of succulent seafood, and a few well-timed luscious libations could conjure up an idyllic vision of how this UK football season will eventually materialize.

Remember, this isn’t your father’s long-suffering Kentucky football team—where dreams of a successful campaign lie in the smoldering ashes of a season opening upset loss to an inferior opponent. Sure, it’s on the road and it’ll be a thousand degrees on the field, but the Wildcats will somehow squeak out a win over Southern Miss in another Shannon Dawson revenge classic.

Kentucky returns home the following week to celebrate the baptism of Kroger Field with an easy victory over EKU. Too many X’s and O’s combined with too many Jimmys and Joes will send the Colonels back to Richmond in an awkward looking blowout.

Cosmic Karma strikes the Cats as South Carolina breaks a three-game losing streak and upsets Kentucky in a blackout thriller in Columbia. The “Jake Bentley for Heisman” campaign begins here as the Gamecock’s star quarterback goes ballistic against a beleaguered Kentucky defense.

One week later, it’s Cosmic Karma again, but this time in a good way as Kentucky finally breaks the three-decade old losing streak against the Florida Gators. After all, no one beats my alma mater 31 years in a row! It’s a signature win for Coach Mark Stoops, setting the stage for a colossal six-game winning streak as the Cats roll over the likes of Eastern Michigan, Missouri, Mississippi State, Tennessee, Ole Miss, and Vanderbilt in the upcoming weeks. An emphatic win over the Vols will send Butch Jones’ hot seat past the proverbial boiling point as the Wildcats sizzle their way up the top 25.

A date against the powerful Georgia Bulldogs between the hedges in Sanford Stadium will cool things off a bit. Georgia prevails, knocking Kentucky out of first place in the SEC eastern division and silencing any talk by the Wildcat faithful for a return trip to Atlanta for the SEC championship game.

In a bit of a hangover from the disappointing Georgia setback, Kentucky falls the following week to their bitter in-state rivals. Louisville takes the Governor’s Cup as the Wildcats finish their regular season with two crushing defeats.

If my calculations are correct, that still means nine wins and three losses—good enough for a New Year’s Day Bowl game somewhere close to the beach. As I’m sitting here with the sun on my face and my toes in the sand, I’m definitely feeling it. Surf’s up. You heard it here first!

John Huang is a columnist for Nolan Group Media. He can be reached at www.Huangswhinings.com or follow him on Twitter @KYHuangs.

Check out his most recent UK Sports coverage at http://www.themanchesterenterprise.com/category/uk-live-breathe-blue/

Check out his most recent Cincinnati Bengals coverage at http://www.bluegrasssportsnation.com/category/writers/john-huang/

 

 

In Search of Rafael Nadal

Rumor has it that there have been a couple of Rafael Nadal sightings so far this week. The lone mega-superstar remaining in the men’s portion of the Western and Southern Open tournament has supposedly been spotted on one of the practice courts. Because he received a bye directly into the second round, Rafa has yet to play an official match even though it’s already Day 4 of the tournament. I’ve yet to catch a glimpse of him either on the court or in the media center. Like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster, I’m beginning to wonder if he’s even here. It’s time to go in search of Rafael Nadal.

With 15 Grand Slam trophies and 10 French Open titles, the 31-year old Spaniard will also, at tournament’s end, assume the mantle of the #1 player in the world. If not for Roger Federer, Nadal could arguably be considered the greatest ever in the history of the game. But Roger’s not here, so everyone’s focus is on Nadal. Every fan wants an autograph, every media outlet wants an interview, and every opponent wants a piece of his flowing scalp. Throw in the local paparazzi and you can see why Nadal would seek witness protection. You won’t see him casually strolling the tournament grounds, eating nachos, or playing video games in the player’s lounge. I bet he’s holed up in some private mansion up on the banks of the Ohio, sipping a red sangria while listening to some mellow Mallorcan melodies.

Nadal’s allegedly playing Richard Gasquet on Center Court this evening, so I’ve rearranged my whole schedule to witness this apparition. As match time approaches, Rafa’s adoring fans pack the stadium in anticipation of another expected coronation. Sure enough, as the buzz of the crowd intensifies to a soaring crescendo, Rafael Nadal struts in royally—tanned and toned– as king of this particular court. He’s real, he’s here, and he’s ready for battle.

Not so fast, my friend. During warmups, the skies open up and Nadal quickly disappears back into the stadium tunnel to escape the unwelcomed rain delay. Did I really see him briefly out on the court, or was that just a figment of my overeager imagination? To me, he’s like a ghost—a Spanish speaking specter disguised in colorful Nike gear.

After the rain showers have dissipated and the court has dried, Nadal emerges a second-time ready to play. Say what you may, the guy’s a symbol of purposeful persistence. He attacks every ball as if it’s match point at Wimbledon. They’ll be no gimmes for Gasquet this evening, as Nadal pounds every forehand while chasing down every errant shot. You would think at his age, he’d want to concede a few points here and there just for the sake of energy conservation. Instead, he’s going full throttle in heat and humidity, trying to win every point and beat you into submission. You have to love that passion, drive, and determination. In two quick sets, Nadal bids adieu to the Frenchman who really never had a chance.

After the match, Nadal addresses the Center Court crowd and signs a few obligatory autographs on the way out of the stadium. He’s completely enveloped by his security team, protected like El Chapo against a vindictive cartel. Forget about a selfie with the man of the hour. They’ll be no post-match interview either. Nadal is out of here as surreptitiously as he came in, his big burly security detail running interference for him like a well-tuned offensive line. For all I know, they’re off to Jeff Ruby’s for the late-night $72 ribeye specials.

The sad part about all this sequestration is that Rafa purportedly is a really nice guy. He’s someone you wouldn’t mind playing a round of golf and downing a few beers with—or maybe having in your fantasy football league. He always appears friendly, cordial, and accommodating in public. How ironic that Rafa and Roger—two major tennis icons—also happen to be two of the most affable and congenial people in the sport.

But wait a minute! Despite the midnight hour, an announcement comes over the media center intercom that Nadal has agreed to make a few post-match comments after all. I rush down to the interview room to hopefully catch a glimpse of this champion up close. He fields the first few queries which are all about the match tonight and the upcoming US Open. That’s fine, but I want to know his thoughts much further into the future. When he furtively glances my way, I ask him if the success Federer is having at age 36 influences his thinking on how long he’ll be able to continue playing at such an elite level.

“No,” he answers definitively. “I do my way, and Roger did his way, no? Everybody is different. For me, personally, I always say the same. I’m going to keep playing until what I am doing makes me happy. I am a very lucky person that I can choose when I want to stop, so that’s the real thing.”

After an awkward pause, he seems compelled to further expound. “If I am happy doing what I am doing, and especially if I am healthy, I continue, I keep going, because I love this sport,” he continues. “I love the competition, and I still feeling the passion for what I am doing, no? When I arrive the days I lose one of these things, I gonna do nothing.” Now that’s a man after my own heart.

As the session concludes, I follow Rafa out of the player’s exit as he loads his racquet bags into a tournament SUV. I want to say something meaningful to him but nothing comes to mind. We’re just two dudes looking to head home after a long day at the office. As I walk back to my car through the dimly lit parking lot, I glance back and see Rafa personally tipping the valet. Something about that simple act just makes me want to smile.

Greatness in tennis is like pornography in general. I can’t really define it exactly, but I know it when I see it. I think I witnessed it tonight. I came to this tournament in search of Rafael Nadal. What I found was greatness personified.

John Huang is a guest columnist for Bluegrass Sports Nation. If you enjoyed this column, please check out the following links to his previous blogs in this tennis series.

#1 Tennis Anyone? https://huangswhinings.com/2017/08/13/tennis-anyone

#2 Tennis Fantasyland http://www.bluegrasssportsnation.com/tennis-fantasyland/

#3 Tennis is Served http://www.bluegrasssportsnation.com/tennis-is-served/

 

 

Tennis Anyone?

Tennis in the United States is currently on life support. The lack of American star power at the top of the men’s rankings has relegated the once popular sport to the entertainment cellar. The Yankee goodwill garnered by past champions such as John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors, Andre Agassi, and Pete Sampras has grudgingly given way to the European dominance of Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, Novak Djokovic, and Andy Murray. Unless a Sam Querry, Jack Sock, or John Isner breaks out and wins an upcoming Major tournament, the resurrection of American tennis will unfortunately remain as hopeless as my backhand.

It hasn’t always been this way. Back in the 80’s, tennis was HUGE—not only as a spectator but as a participation sport. Believe it or not, people actually bought racquets, took lessons, joined clubs, and played on public courts. The adult tennis league at Shillito Park was rife with wannabe tennis buffs striving to capture the coveted T-shirts for winning their respective divisions. My hard-fought championship in the 4.0 singles league (inexplicably, everybody played up rather than sandbagging in those days) remains a highlight of my less than stellar foray into the world of cut throat athletic competition.

What I lack in physical talent, though, I usually overcompensate with dogged perseverance. That’s why I’m on my way to the Western and Southern Open Tennis Tournament in Cincinnati to provide you the best coverage money can buy. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve been to this event as a spectator a couple of times before—once as my teenage daughter went gaga over heartthrob Roger Federer and once when I went gaga over fellow Asian Michael Chang. But this time I’m not going as a paying customer–I’m going behind the scenes as a full-fledged media member. It’s also your lucky day, because you’re coming with me to get all the journalistic scoop.

The Lindner Family Tennis Center is not actually located in Cincinnati. It’s in Mason, Ohio, right under the shadows of the roller coasters at Kings Island Amusement Park. Driving onto the massive parking lot, you get the feeling of a big-time tennis event complete with small town hospitality. Many of the big names in tennis are here, not only because the tournament serves as a warm up to the US Open in New York, but also because of the aforementioned friendliness. Prima donnas like to be coddled and if there’s one thing I’ve gleaned over the years, it’s that tennis stars are the penultimate prima donnas.

Seven-time champion Roger Federer and 2013 winner Rafael Nadal are the two top seeds this year on the men’s side of the tournament draw. On the women’s side, defending champion Karolina Pliskova–who recently held the WTA’s No. 1 ranking–headlines an entry list that also includes three previously ranked No. 1 players: Angelique Kerber, Caroline Wozniacki, and Venus Williams. I’m bummed I won’t get to see Serena Williams play as she’s expecting her first child later this month. My contention is that she’s one of the greatest athletes of all time. Even while pregnant, she’s still good enough to dispatch ninety percent of her healthy competitors.

Media members also like to be coddled, so I’m anxious to see whether tennis hospitality also extends to the press corps. Will I be dining on shrimp cocktail between matches like Roger? Is there limousine service available to shuttle me from court to court a la Rafa? How about a masseuse during rain delays as per Venus? What are professional tennis players like off the court and away from the cameras? What really goes on at post match press conferences and within the confines of the mysterious “players only” lounge? Join me, on special assignment for Bluegrass Sports Nation, as we dive into the world of international tennis intrigue. Whether fact or fiction, jocks or jerks, etiquette or etouffee, I’ll be searching for the best experiences to hopefully, bring the sport of TENNIS back from the dead.

John Huang is a guest columnist for Bluegrass Sports Nation. If you enjoyed this column, be sure to check out the rest of the tennis series. 

#2 Tennis Fantasyland http://breathittonline.com/blog/index.php/2017/08/14/tennis-fantasyland/

#3 Tennis is Served http://breathittonline.com/blog/index.php/2017/08/16/tennis-is-served/

 

 

Kroger University

Those of you old enough to remember the “Let’s Go Krogering” jingle know that the Cincinnati based grocery chain giant has never shied away from hokey marketing promotions. None of us should have been surprised, then, when we heard of Kroger’s latest takeover of the hallowed grounds of our beloved football venue. Out with Commonwealth Stadium and in with Kroger Field. For a mere $1.85 million per year, Kroger bought not only the naming rights, but a direct path to the mind, hearts, and wallets of the Big Blue Wildcat faithful.

As a former business owner and passionate Kentucky fan, I know a thing or two about marketing gimmicks aimed at an adoring sports-loving public. Not that they asked me, but if I were the Kroger University president, here’s what I would propose for my newly minted Kroger Field.

To begin with, I would automate, automate, and automate. Who needs real-live humans at checkout counters when you can slip in a few more robotic self-checkout scanners. I’m thinking huge, here. Let’s get rid of all the blue coated ushers and replace them with holograms of former UK football stars. Imagine Babe Parilli, Tim Couch, or Randall Cobb scanning your tickets, directing you to your seats, or escorting you to the bathrooms for a much-needed potty break.

Speaking of ticket scanning, I would eliminate that aspect altogether by uploading everything onto your Kroger Plus card. For all you forward thinkers, how about an implanted micro-chip? Forgot your ticket? No worries–Just wave your wrist as you walk by the Kroger Cat altar and you’re good to go. Don’t worry either about Big Brother tracking your every move. As a loyal Kroger plus card member, we already know everything about your secret chocolate addiction, toilet paper preference, and underwear size.

We’ll market directly to the average fan by giving them an out-of-this-world gameday experience. No more locally sourced Kentucky Proud concession items, no more overpriced stadium hot dogs, and no more Papa in the house. From now on, all Kroger brand items 10 for $10. Bring on the low-grade sushi and twice fried chicken. Everyone and their brother loves cheap eats while tailgating! All the while, we’ll slam your cellphones with email spam, bogus digital downloads, and self-serving company ads.

Of course, we won’t forget the Kroger bobbleheads, Kroger fireworks, and the Kroger Kiss Cam. Did you know that Kroger now also proudly sells garments from sweatshops located throughout the world? Be sure to pick up a knockoff jersey just outside of Gate 12. Or better yet, head on over to Gate 14 for a two-for-one flu shot. Whether it’s a Redbox movie kiosk after the game, flowers for the Mrs. from our garden center, a Starbucks Espresso Macchiato, or that extra special Best Buy gift card, Kroger Field will have it all for you. Best of all we’ll even provide workable Wi-Fi, so just “click list” your item and it’ll be ready for pickup before Mitch Barnhart wipes off the wet bleachers.

Let’s not stop at the football fanbase. Now that we’ve got our foot in the door, we’ll just help ourselves to all of the university’s existing client base. Hey UK students, forget the local vendors. Come on over to Kroger for all your partying needs. If you’re a UK patient, switch on over to our pharmacy services. Kroger Pharmacy beats out UK Healthcare any day of the week. The university won’t mind. After all, Mitch and Eli personally signed off on this one. Whether Kroger Field or Kroger University, who really cares? A winning football team by any other name would smell just as sleek. Bring on the Kroger scholarships. I can’t wait for the Kroger All American team to be released. The Kroger Bowl is long overdue. The excitement all starts this season at Kroger Field. See you there for the takeover!

John Huang is not really the president of Kroger, although he is a loyal Plus Card holder. You can enjoy his writing at www.huangswhinings.com or follow him on Twitter @KYHuangs.