The Top Five Reasons NOT to Buy My Book

Let’s face it. We’re all inundated these days—with political propaganda, fast food coupons, and suspicious texts warning that your bank account’s been compromised. So when a washed-up orthodontist-turned-sportswriter announces his eighth book, your first instinct might be to mutter “bless his heart,” roll your eyes, and scroll on by.

But before you do, allow me—with all the humility I can muster—to present:

The Top Five Reasons NOT to Buy My New Book, Whining for Posterity: Life, Sports, and Other Things Worth Complaining About

Reason #5: You’ve Already Heard It All Before

Fair. At least the five people outside my immediate family who’ve read all my blogs, chuckled at my columns, and survived a few of my Facebook rants might think so. You know who you are.

You’re thinking, “I don’t need a bound compilation of recycled material cluttering up my coffee table.”

Touché. But this is the director’s cut. Whining for Posterity includes never-before-seen edits, timely updates, and slightly embarrassing bonus reflections by yours truly—organized into tidy little categories like “Life,” “Love,” “Politics,” “Religion,” “Travel,” and “Sports.”

Skip the spiritual stuff. Go straight to the football whining if that’s your thing. I won’t be offended.

Reason #4: You Don’t Like Complaining

Neither do I. That’s why I wrote a whole book about it.

Let me clarify: this isn’t just me griping about the Bengals’ play-calling or America’s healthcare system. It’s an honest, often humorous, occasionally heartfelt look at the little frustrations of life—and the big lessons hiding behind them.

Think of it as therapy, but with fewer co-pays and more Rick Pitino references.

Reason #3: You’re Holding Out for the Movie

Ah yes, the inevitable blockbuster. Picture it: Jackie Chan as me, Meryl Streep as my long-suffering editor, and John Calipari making a surprise cameo as himself.

Sadly, Hollywood hasn’t called. Yet.

So for now, your only option is to read the book. Don’t worry—it’s got plot twists, emotional payoffs, and enough laugh-out-loud moments to keep even the most distracted reader engaged. There’s something in it for everyone.

Best of all? It’s cheaper than a bucket of overpriced movie popcorn.

Reason #2: You Think I’m Just Trying to Make a Buck

Please. I’m a writer. If I wanted to make money, I’d still be straightening teeth.

Truth is, I’m donating all the proceeds from this book to charity. Not because I’m a saint—but because YOU are. Plus, I’d rather give the money away than explain to the IRS why I spent it all on road trips with the Wildcats.

So when you buy Whining for Posterity, you’re not just supporting me. You’re supporting a good cause—and giving yourself (or someone you’re regifting it to) a few laughs, a few tears, and maybe even a fresh perspective on this maddening miracle we call life.

Reason #1: You’d Rather Read John Grisham

Who wouldn’t? I’m no John Grisham.

But here’s the truth: Whining for Posterity isn’t a legal thriller. Nor is it just a collection of gripes and giggles. It’s a scrapbook of moments—some hilarious, some heartfelt—that remind us what really matters. Relationships. Family. Faith. Our dogs. The everyday absurdities that make life worth living.

At some point, we all start thinking about what we’re leaving behind. Not money or monuments, but memories, stories, and maybe a few lessons others can carry forward.

This book is my way of doing that. A little piece of my voice—whiny as it is—preserved for whoever wants to listen.

So no, you don’t have to read it. But if you do, I hope it makes you think a little more about your own legacy—the one you’re writing every day, whether you realize it or not.

Because whining, at its core, is just love in disguise. A love that refuses to let life pass by unnoticed.

So there you have it. Five completely legitimate, totally reasonable, utterly unconvincing reasons not to buy my book.

But if, despite all that, you feel compelled to grab a copy of Whining for Posterity, I won’t stop you. In fact, I’m thanking you now in advance. Flag me down and I’ll sign it for you—maybe even buy you lunch, or at the very least, offer a heartfelt “bless your heart.”

Whining for Posterity—available now on Amazon and wherever books silently judge you from your nightstand. Click here to purchase. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FDLCGR1P

#WhiningForPosterity
#BuyItAnyway
#ComplainingWithPurpose

The Big Dog Defects: Loyalty Goes to the Dogs

They say dogs are man’s best friend. They’re loyal to a fault and faithful to the end. But what happens when the Big Dog himself starts sniffing around another yard and decides the grass really is greener over in the Commonwealth’s least fashionable zip code?

Yes, Vince Marrow—Kentucky’s own gravelly voiced, Fritos munching recruiting wizard, tight ends coach extraordinaire, sideline spiritual advisor, and Mark Stoops’ trusty right-hand man—has defected to the enemy. And not just any enemy, mind you, but to Louisville. As in “Loo-a-vul.” As in red. As in the sworn arch-nemesis of all things blue and righteous. When I first heard the news, I didn’t know whether to weep, rage, or give Vince the one-finger salute on the way out.

For a dozen years, Big Dog barked loud and proud in Lexington. He wagged his tail at five-stars, howled with joy after bowl wins, and lifted the recruiting ceiling on a program that used to feast solely on moral victories and the occasional MAC pretender. Alongside Stoops, he turned UK Football into a respectable—and sometimes even feared—SEC contender. And now? Now he’s swapping out his blue windbreaker for a pair of Cardinal-red socks? Say it ain’t so, Vince.

To most of BBN, this is more than just a coaching move. This is betrayal at a Shakespearean level. This is Brutus plunging the knife into Caesar’s back or Larry Bird donning purple and gold.

Now before you tell me this is “just business,” spare me. That’s what everyone says nowadays. “It’s a business decision,” they mutter, as they pull up roots, ghost their friends, break their commitments, and leave their spouses for yoga instructors named Skyler. Somewhere along the way, loyalty became a punchline—something to scoff at, like Blockbuster Video or landline phones.

Marrow leaving Kentucky isn’t just a loss for Stoops. It’s a snapshot of society’s frayed relational fabric. Once upon a time, people stayed in one place, built deep roots, and grew old beside their neighbors and colleagues. These days, folks are constantly chasing “what’s next.” A few more dollars. A better title. More retweets. Less accountability. Like mice on a merry-go-round, we leap from opportunity to opportunity, always certain the next nut will be bigger and shinier.

Remember when a man’s word was his bond? When you could shake hands on something and actually mean it? I imagine Stoops and Marrow once made pacts in the bowels of Commonwealth Stadium. Pacts sealed not in ink, but in late-night film sessions and on recruiting trips to the barren fields of Ohio. You don’t just walk away from that history without leaving some blood on the blackboard.

Of course, I get it. Coaches leave. Programs evolve. People need to feed their families. Vince is free to make his own choices, just like I was free to leave my orthodontic practice to write books that don’t sell. Only Vince and Stoops really know what went on behind the scenes.

But can’t we still mourn the loss of something deeper? The erosion of loyalty. The death of staying power. The idea that you stick with your people—even when the wins are sparse and the haters are loud.

What hurts most is that we thought Vince was different. He wasn’t just a coach—he was our coach. He loved Big Blue Nation. He talked about “La Familia.” He posed with babies in Kroger parking lots. He always hinted that he’d “never wear red.” But you know how that goes—just ask Judas. Or LeBron. Or that youth pastor who used to lead worship and now sells crystals in Sedona.

And of all places… Louisville? That’s like Batman leaving Gotham to join the Joker’s henchmen. It’s like Colonel Sanders opening a Raising Cane’s. I fully expect Vince to start flashing the “L’s Up” and waxing poetic about the urban charm of the Gene Snyder Freeway.

So, what do we long-suffering UK football fans do now?

Well, we grieve. We rage. We write impassioned blog posts with overwrought metaphors. We take a HUGE breath…and then we go back to rooting for the name on the front of the jersey. Because at the end of the day, loyalty may be dying—but we don’t have to be part of the kill squad.

Let’s be loyal to our teams. To our friends. To our families. To our churches, our communities, and yes—even to the coaches who leave us for a shinier gig across enemy lines.

Maybe—just maybe—if we all doubled down on loyalty in our own little spheres, then someday, someone like Vince Marrow might actually stay.

But until then, let me make one thing perfectly clear: I will never, ever cheer for Louisville. Not for a player. Not for a coach. Not for a charity dunk contest versus Duke. Not even if Vince himself buys 500 copies of my newest book, Whining for Posterity, and hands them out at a Cardinal tailgate.

Because some of us still believe in loyalty. Even when the Big Dog runs away.

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. Currently serving as a columnist for Nolan Group Media, he invites readers to follow him on social media @KYHuangs. Explore his debut novel— “Name, Image, and Murder”—and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD

From Omaha to Oh-Crap: Is this the Beginning of the End?

(We all hoped at the time that Kentucky’s appearance at last year’s College World Series would become a watershed moment in UK Athletics.)

I’m not sure exactly when it happened. Maybe it was while I was loading up on barbecue brisket and burnt ends in Omaha last June. Or perhaps it was during that rare moment of peace when the volleyball team swept another conference foe and all felt right with the world. But somewhere along the way, I started to believe that Kentucky Athletics had turned a corner.

We weren’t just a basketball school anymore. We weren’t even just a basketball and football school. We had become a full-on athletic juggernaut. A Director’s Cup darling. A holistic haven of sporting excellence. We won national championships in Volleyball and Rifle. We fielded top-tier teams in Tennis, Gymnastics, and Soccer. We had superheroes like Sydney McLaughlin and Abby Steiner running Track. And—oh yes—we made it to Omaha, the mythical mountaintop of college baseball, for the very first time.

That’s why Kentucky’s brutal season-ending defeat to West Virginia last night had me reaching for the Xanax. The Cats blew two five-run leads and lost 13 – 12 to the Mountaineers in the NCAA regional finals. If last year was a mountaintop moment, this year felt like hanging on to the ledge with one sweaty hand.

Now I know what you’re thinking. “John, chill out. We made the tournament. Coach Nick Mingione took a roster with thirty new players, fought through a rash of injuries, and survived one of the nation’s most difficult schedules to come within three wins of a return to Omaha.”

Sure, I get it. If it weren’t for bad luck, the Cats wouldn’t have any luck at all. In just this one season, the team lost 12 one-run ballgames for god’s sake. But let’s not gloss over the cold, hard fact that Kentucky Baseball finished just three rungs from the bottom of the conference ladder. That 13^th place SEC finish makes you wonder if last year’s ascent was a fluke more than a foundation. In fact, is Kentucky’s decades-long ascension up the ladder of SEC respectability across all its sporting programs also entirely a fluke?

In an era where there’s so much speculation about trimming budgets and cutting out “minor” sports, that’s certainly a question worth pondering.

Let’s take a quick look at the 2024 – 25 conference standings that I pulled directly off the Southeastern Conference website, shall we? Kentucky’s rank among all our SEC brethren is probably lower than you realized.

Volleyball: 1st (okay, we’re off to a hot start. Go, Coach Skinner.)
Women’s Basketball: T4 (Kudos also to Coach Kenny Brooks in his first year at the helm.)
Men’s Basketball: 6 (What used to be a disaster, we now consider respectable.)
Gymnastics: 6 (meh)
Women’s Soccer: 8 (meh)
Women’s Outdoor Track & Field: 8 (meh)

Not bad so far, but now things drop quicker than Stoops’ offense on 3^rd and 12.

Men’s Tennis: T8 (disappointing, especially after the previous championship near misses.)
Men’s Swimming & Diving: 9 (disappointing)
Women’s Indoor Track & Field: 10 (disappointing)
Men’s Cross Country: 10 (disappointing)
Women’s Tennis: 11 (disappointing)
Women’s Swimming & Diving: 11 (disappointing)
Women’s Golf: 11 (disappointing)
Men’s Indoor Track & Field: 12 (disappointing)
Men’s Outdoor Track & Field: 13 (disappointing)
Baseball: 13 (devastating)
Softball: 13 (devastating)
Football: 15 (disastrous)
Women’s Cross Country: 15 (disastrous)
Men’s Golf: 15 (disastrous)

Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got a problem. Those results are concerning to me.

Look, I’m not just a sports fan. I’m a University of Kentucky sports fan. A proud, hopelessly devoted disciple of all things Blue and White. I watch Women’s Golf on the SEC Network. I know how many meters are in a 4×400 relay. I can name two people on the Tennis team without Googling. This is personal.

So, what in the name of Mitch Barnhart is going on?

We can’t blame COVID. That ship sailed a couple of years ago. And don’t go pointing fingers at NIL either. Every other SEC school is playing under the same unspoken “pay to play” rulebook. We’ve got the resources. We’ve got the facilities. We’ve got the best fans in the world. Coaching salaries? Let’s just say nobody’s clipping coupons. We give $100K raises to O-line coaches without batting an eye. So why do we suddenly look like we’re fielding club teams in a conference of powerhouses?

Could it be complacency? Bad luck? Poor hiring? Is it that Native American burial ground supposedly hidden under Kroger Field exacting revenge? Or maybe it’s just the cyclical nature of sports and our turn in the barrel has finally come (remember, even Tennessee and Florida sucked at football for a few years). I’m hoping it’s just a temporary blip.

Whatever the reason, it’s scary that the trend may not be our friend. We’re turning into Vanderbilt without the brains.

Feel free to whine and lament. The stark reality is that UK Athletics is simply not where we were a decade ago. A football team that won bowl games. A basketball team that hadn’t yet lost to Saint Peter’s. A damn good softball team. Life was good.

But now? Now we’re in danger of becoming the Power Five equivalent of a mid-major. Scrappy. Somewhat respectable. Occasionally dangerous—but mostly just hanging around. Maybe IT IS THE MONEY and the lack of big donors and corporate sponsorships after all.

I’m not trying to be overly dramatic. (Okay, maybe a little bit.) But when you love something as much as I love Kentucky sports, it’s hard not to mourn when it starts slipping away. And while I’ll always be proud of our athletes and grateful for the moments of magic they still provide, I can’t help but feel like the era of across-the-board Big Blue brilliance is in the rearview mirror.

Maybe Mark Pope resurrects the magic on the hardwood. Perhaps the football team surprises us all. Maybe…just maybe…Coach Skinner reloads and saves the day.

Or maybe, a boatload of NIL cash drops directly into our laps like manna from heaven.

We can always dream, can’t we?

It Still Means Something”: Why the Kentucky Brand Isn’t Just a Jersey

Kentucky players celebrating the name on the front of the jersey after their big 106-100 win over the eventual national champion, Florida Gators, in Rupp Arena on January 4, 2025.

(LEXINGTON, Ky.) – In an era where players are more likely to follow Benjamins than banners, where “NIL” has replaced “MVP” in the recruiting wars, and where the transfer portal spins faster than my dog doing zoomies, one might wonder—Does the name on the front of the jersey still matter anymore?

At his recent media conference held earlier this week, Kentucky Basketball head coach Mark Pope answered that question with a resounding, heartfelt yes. And this wasn’t just your typical lukewarm head nod. No, this was the type of yes that gives you chills. The kind that makes you want to lace up your Nikes, high five your portly neighbor, and run through the proverbial brick wall.

“It matters,” Pope said. “There’s nowhere like this.”

He’s not wrong. Kentucky Basketball isn’t just a brand. It’s the program with the greatest tradition in the history of the game. It’s a baptism together with a rite of passage wrapped up in eight NCAA championship banners, 61 NCAA Tournament appearances, and the most all-time wins of anybody still playing. It’s Joe B. and Jamal. It’s Wah Wah and Wall. It’s five national championships in five different decades and a fanbase that will passionately defend the honor of Farmer, Pelphrey, Feldhaus, and Woods like they’re…well…Unforgettable.

But in this new wild west of college hoops—where loyalty is traded for luxury and bluebloods can be outbid by programs with booster billionaires—it’s fair to ask: Does Kentucky still hold sway with this new generation of coddled, roundball mercenaries raised on highlight reels and endorsement deals?

Pope thinks it does. Scratch that—he knows it does. And surprise, surprise—his answer isn’t only about tradition for tradition’s sake. It’s about transformation, character, work ethic, and servant leadership. About what happens when you willingly pour yourself into something bigger.

“If you come in here not understanding or appreciating that,” Pope warns, “I think your chances of success are not very high.”

That’s not gatekeeping. That’s the gospel according to the Pope.

Because this place is different. It asks more of you. More than just your wingspan or your vertical or your TikTok follower count. It demands your heart. Your humility. Your willingness to dive for loose balls, to play through bruises, to pass up a good shot for a great one. To give your teammate the limelight just because he’s your teammate. It demands that you surrender just a little piece of yourself—not to lose your identity, but to elevate it.

And that’s where the magic happens.

“When you learn that concept—of if I give a little bit of myself, it actually elevates myself—that’s what’s great about this beautiful, brilliant team sport of basketball,” Pope said. “The pathway to become immortal is very different than this world wants to teach us.”

Mic. Drop.

Yes, kids today are soft. There, I said it. Many may be distracted by the siren song of short-term riches. But Pope isn’t recruiting kids who just want a wheelbarrow full of cash. He’s recruiting young men who want to matter and make a difference. Who’ll leave legacy footprints in the bluegrass that echo through the rafters long after they’re gone. People like Issel, and Goose, and Macy, and Walker, and Davis.

Think about it: Where else can you become immortal at the ripe age of nineteen? Where else does a walk-on get a standing ovation just for checking in? Where else can you go from obscurity to legendary in a single March weekend? Where can you be known simply for sporting a unibrow, girls kissing your car bumper, or wearing jorts for heaven’s sake?

That’s not marketing fluff put together by the suits at JMI. That’s lived experience. That’s legacy. And it’s now being passed down from generation to generation.

“Our guys last season set a beautiful, brilliant standard of what it means to be a Kentucky Basketball player,” Pope said. “We’re leaning on them a lot… their video, their outtakes, their clips, their comments—just to help understand that.”

Because—as former coach John Calipari famously said on so many occasions—Kentucky isn’t for everyone. And that’s precisely the point.

You can go be a great basketball player at a lot of places. Pope knows that. Heck, he’s played and coached in a few of them. But being great here? That’s a different kind of great. That’s statue-worthy great. That’s raise-your-jersey-to-the-rafters great. That’s can’t-walk-through-Kroger-without-grandma-taking-a-selfie great.

So yes, the name on the back may earn you the check. But the name on the front? That’s what earns you the chapter in Kentucky lore.

Mark Pope gets it. He lived it. And now, he’s preaching it. Loudly. Passionately. With a blend of fire and sincerity that makes you believe Kentucky Basketball hasn’t lost its way after all. It’s just waiting for the right kind of player to find theirs.

Because for all the bells, whistles, dollar signs, and distractions of this modern basketball age, one truth remains: This place is different.

And if you can understand that?

You’re going to be crazy successful.

Or immortal.

That’s the gospel truth. Sign me up, Coach!

This blog posting was first submitted as a column for Nolan Group Media publications.

Don’t You Dare Trash Our UK Degrees

Today was a big day.

My nephew, Griffin Shively, walked across the stage at the University of Kentucky commencement ceremonies. Not only did he officially extend the growing line of Huang Family academic nerds, but he also followed in the hallowed footsteps of my dear old dad with a coveted engineering degree. Needless to say, the whole family is quite proud of Griffin.

There’s been a lot of talk over the years about the value of a college education—especially one from the University of Kentucky. As someone who spent eleven years chasing after a bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate degree from my beloved alma mater, I feel uniquely qualified to set the record straight.

Remember when former Wake Forest center Olivier Sarr was considering a transfer to Kentucky? Demon Deacon head coach Steve Forbes started a firestorm by posing the question, “Why would you want to go to Wake for three years and then graduate from a place like Kentucky?”

Of course, Forbes was just trying to be cute…and I thought his quip was humorous. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t true.

During my decade in the military, I worked side by side with individuals with degrees from all different institutions of higher learning, and I’ll put my UK diplomas up against any of theirs. My education at the University of Kentucky served me as well or better than anything Wake Forest, Duke, or any of the Ivy League schools could dish up for that matter. When you throw in the value my parents received for in-state tuition, an argument could be made that I finished head and shoulders above any of those elitist snobs.

For athletes headed for professional glory, where they get their degrees really won’t matter. After all, they’ve got their sights set on that lucrative NBA or NFL contract. But for the rest of us—for the hardworking students and student-athletes who graduated this week—that University of Kentucky degree represents years of sweat equity and life-changing opportunity.

In the high-profile college sports of basketball and football, the value of an athletic scholarship frequently gets taken for granted. A half million dollars’ worth of room and board, books, top-flight medical care, academic counseling, first-class travel, fancy hotels, and gourmet food can easily get lost against the backdrop of potential money gained from name, image, and likeness. Throw in future earnings at the next level—and for someone like Otega Oweh and his rising basketball superstardom—the world truly is their oyster.

But for the rest of us regular folk, a college degree can make all the difference between financial success or failure. I don’t care how fast you can run or how high you can jump, student-athletes who remain serious about academic performance and grades will ultimately be rewarded seventy times seven.

Despite all the hullabaloo surrounding NIL and Pay-for-Play, my UK degrees remain my life’s most valuable assets.

So, congratulations are in order for all the UK students and student-athletes receiving their degrees during this academic year. They’re all in possession now of that treasured blue sheepskin.

Each and every one of them graduating from “a place like Kentucky.”

Well, I’ve got news for Coach Forbes. As one of my dental school instructors used to tell me, “It doesn’t matter which bus you ride, it’s the destination that’s important.”

We all punched our ticket on the Big Blue Bus. Griffin and I plan to keep riding for a long, long time.

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. Currently serving as a columnist for Nolan Group Media, he invites readers to follow him on social media @KYHuangs. For more whimsical and opinionated posts like this, be sure to check out his latest book project, “Whining for Posterity.” Explore his debut novel— “Name, Image, and Murder”—and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD

Dear Duke Basketball

We feel your pain. Really, we do.

After all, as die-hard Kentucky fans—we’ve been there. We’re all too familiar with having our national title hopes strewn like shattered glass across the Final Four floor. We’ve seen the movie several times before—the one where the best team, with the best players, and all the media hype in the world, suddenly and shockingly crumbles into a tragic heap of nightmarish disbelief.

So many times, we’ve also been anointed prematurely. Crowned before the coronation. Celebrated before the ceremony. And then left to watch—stunned and slack-jawed, humiliated and embarrassed—as the dream slipped away and the rest of the world rejoiced.

So yes, we feel for you, Duke fans.
But make no mistake—we’re also laughing at you this morning. At least just a little.

Because it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving program.

Oh, I know. That’s petty. That’s small. That’s un-Christian. “You’re living rent-free in our heads,” you say.

That may all be true.
But c’mon—this is Duke University we’re talking about.

Ever since Laettner hit the shot, you’ve been the villain in our college hoops drama. You stole our titles back in 2010 and 2015. You—with your haughty, self-righteous air of academic superiority—deserve exactly what you’re getting. Your smug alumni looking down from their elitist Gothic towers in Durham while we wallow in our fried chicken, cigarettes, and toothless grins.

And now this.

Comfortably up by 14 points with eight minutes to go, and you manage just one field goal the rest of the game—losing to Houston 70–67 in the national semifinals. The laughingstock. The punchline. The greatest Final Four choke of all time.

So what now?

You mope about. You avoid ESPN. You dread “One Shining Moment” and try to convince yourselves that next year will be your year.

(Spoiler: It won’t be.)

But take heart, for this too shall pass. Time, as they say, cures all wounds.

We know the feeling. The second-half shooting debacle versus Georgetown in 1984? We’re coping. The shot-clock violations versus Wisconsin in 2015? Scarred, but functional. Saint Peter’s and Jack Gohlke? Perplexed, but no longer in despair.

So join us, Duke. Come sit beside us on this broken, blue-blooded bench of cold-hearted misery. Let’s swap stories about what might have been. We’ll tell you about 2015 if you tell us about 2025.

You see, for all your Ivy League aspirations and smug superiority, you’re not so different from us after all. Blue bloods with blue uniforms. Blue tears. Blue language from angry fans. And now, an equally blue postseason résumé.

The only real difference?

We’ve got eight championship rings.
You still have only five.

Respectfully,
BBN

The Epic Return

If Kentucky under Rick Pitino was Camelot—a kingdom of discipline, full-court pressure, and three-point barrages—then John Calipari’s Kentucky was Hollywood.

It was glitz, glamour, and one-and-done superstars walking the red carpet to the NBA. It was the biggest show in college basketball, headlined by a charismatic director who knew how to market his stars. There were blockbuster seasons (2010, 2012, 2015), shocking flops (Evansville, St. Peter’s, Oakland), and a script that, in the end, started feeling a little too familiar.

Like any Hollywood epic, it had its golden era, its sequels that didn’t quite measure up, and ultimately, an ending that unceremoniously flopped. But for over a decade, Big Blue Nation lived under the bright lights—forever in the hunt—hoping that every season could produce the next big championship hit.

Now, the cameras have moved on, the set has changed, and Calipari has left town. But on February 1, the former leading man returns to see if the audience still remembers his name.

Of course we remember. For 15 years, Coach Cal was the man in Lexington, patrolling the Kentucky sideline with designer suits, slicked-back hair, and a bottomless supply of “YOU PEOPLE ARE CRAZY” clichés. He promised the Big Blue Nation “we eat first,” and for a while, we did—four Final Fours, a national title, an undefeated regular season, and 25 NBA lottery picks will do that. But over time, the meals got smaller, the bill got bigger, and the chef started arguing with the waitstaff. When Mark Pope was handed the keys last April, many in the fan base felt relieved, a bit like ending a long-term relationship that had irreparably soured and gone stale.

But here’s the thing about breakups—closure is never real until you see them again.

So here comes Cal, rolling into town this weekend wearing red, looking like the guy who just bought a sports car after a midlife crisis. He won’t say it, but he’d love nothing more than to walk into Rupp, stick his hands in his pig-sooie pockets, and smugly strut out with a win.

The reception? Oh, it’s complicated.

If I were emperor of BBN, I would order a rousing standing ovation when Calipari is introduced. After all, the man deserves it. He’ll be in the rafters one day. The guy devoted 15 years of his life to the program, the university, and the community. Sure, he won a lot of ball games. But he also used his enormous platform to spearhead relief efforts wherever and whenever disasters hit, and people were hurting. On a personal level, he also wrote the foreword to two of my books. With the entire college basketball world looking on, how classy would it be if everyone stood and cheered.

There will be cheers because, let’s face it, he did bring home banner No. 8. There will also be boos, because 9, 10, and 11 never followed. Some fans will clap out of respect, others will heckle because they feel like the last four years were a hostage situation. And still others—perhaps the most honest among us—will feel an odd mix of nostalgia and irritation, like when you really enjoyed the movie but felt the ending royally sucked.

Tom Leach had a very insightful take when he appeared on the Round of Shots podcast earlier last week.

“He’ll get booed just like Rick did,” predicted the Voice of the Wildcats. “It’ll be a pretty strong chorus of boos I’d imagine. There’ll be some mixed emotions for Cal on that. If you’re in that situation and you’ve coached at Kentucky, you may be a little insulted if they didn’t boo you.”

With Calipari’s massive ego, that comment may just be spot on. So, let’s cheer at his intro. But as soon as the ball is tipped, we’ll boo until our heart’s content.

Whatever happens, one thing is for sure: February 1 is must-watch theater.

Because every Hollywood story gets a sequel—whether you want it or not.

Cats’ Meow: Ole Miss Smackdown

Dane Key (career-high eight catches for 105 yards) and Barion Brown (five catches for 88 yards) celebrate one of the most improbable upsets in Kentucky Football history. Photo Credit: Tres Terrell / Cats Coverage.

(ATLANTA, Ga.) – If you happened to hear some loud meowing coming from Oxford, Mississippi, this past Saturday, you weren’t mistaken. No, it wasn’t a new strain of southern Mississippi feline infestation—it was the Kentucky Wildcats who went prowling deep into Rebel territory and left with a purr-fectly thrilling 20-17 victory. And just like that, Big Blue Nation experienced the kind of upset that gives SEC elite sleepless nights and Wildcat fans reason to crowd surf and burn couches the rest of the week.

Okay, I have to come clean. I didn’t see the game. In fact, I couldn’t even keep up with it in real time. Ah, the joys of modern air travel. There I was, soaring above the clouds, trying to connect to the internet with the same desperation Mark Stoops mustered calling a 4th-and-7 deep in his own territory. My Wi-Fi was about as reliable as a Tennessee fan’s manners, buffering at every crucial moment. But even from 30,000 feet, the excitement of Kentucky’s monumental upset win over No. 6 Ole Miss somehow seeped through, giving me one of my top football fan moments of all time. I still think that Florida upset from a few years back was the biggest (I was there in person for that magical three-decade streak-buster). But this one—even in abstentia—comes in hot on its heels.

Rebel Yell Turned to Rebel Yawn

Here’s what I pieced together from my lofty perch in seat 16E. The stage was set for a party at the Grove. Ole Miss, the high-flying, swaggering Rebels, rolled in undefeated at 4-0, daring anyone to slow them down. They led the nation in scoring, they led in defense, they led in just about everything except humility—and let’s be honest, who needs that in football? But the Cats, sitting at a less-than-flashy 3-2, came to crash the party, with quarterback Brock Vandagriff in the starring role.

What Ole Miss hadn’t counted on was a night filled with bizarre twists and turns. The first possession went according to script with the Rebels slicing downfield like a hot knife through butter for a 7 – 0 lead. For Wildcat fans, this one was turning ugly early. But Vandagriff, who had previously been allergic to hot starts, responded in kind by leading Kentucky down the field on the Cats’ first possession, and what do you know? Points! A field goal to kick things off—a small victory that had many in BBN saying, “Not so fast, my friend.”

Kentucky’s Big Bet Pays Off

The rest of the game proceeded like a chess match, except Mark Stoops decided to channel his inner Lane Kiffin and go all riverboat gambler. With just over two minutes to go and the Cats facing 4th-and-7 from their own 20-yard line, Stoops said, “Why play it safe?” No more “Captain Conservative” label—he called the play to let it fly. Vandagriff did just that, connecting with Barion Brown on a stunning 63-yard bomb. A heave, a prayer, and suddenly, Kentucky had an opening.

Barion Brown—speedster extraordinaire—ran like he was tired of jet sweeps and with that one electrifying fly pattern, he set up the winning touchdown. Tight end Josh Kattus, atoning for a couple of previously dropped passes, grabbed a fumbled loose ball at the two-yard line and lunged into the end zone. It wasn’t exactly what you’d call textbook offense, but as every Kentucky fan knows, beauty in football is in the eye of the scoreboard.

Defense, Deliveries, and Desperation

Pay Brad White whatever he wants. The Rebels came into this matchup thinking they’d walk all over Kentucky, but instead, they got smacked in the mouth by a Wildcats defense that wasn’t having any of it. Octavious Oxendine roared like his namesake in the trenches, recording two huge sacks and living in the Rebels’ backfield rent-free. Then there was JQ Hardaway—he didn’t just come to play, he came to make life miserable for every Rebel who dared cross him, setting a career-high 11 tackles, and yes, forcing a fumble too. Deone Walker was Deone Walker—enough said.

Ole Miss was punting left and right, which is something they’re just not used to doing. Kentucky forced five punts on a team that had only punted four times in their previous four games combined. Can anyone say three-and out?

And speaking of kicking, there was Kentucky’s kicker Alex Raynor—Mr. Automatic—who’s quickly turning Kentucky into Field Goal U. Two more field goals extended his streak to a school-record 14 straight. Somewhere in the Bluegrass, Austin MacGinnis must have been raising a glass in salute.

Clutch Cats Close It Out

The game-winning drive had all the trappings of Kentucky drama—close calls, fumbles, and sheer, unfiltered joy. Kattus’ recovery and dive into the end zone with 2:25 left in regulation was the exclamation point. The kind of sentence that said, “Hell, yeah. Eat this, all you doubters who sold your season tickets after the South Carolina loss!” But with Ole Miss still breathing, it was J.J. Weaver, forever a fan-favorite and all-around game-wrecker, who had the final word, sacking Jaxson Dart and effectively shutting the door on Ole Miss’s hopes of a last-minute miracle. Their last-ditch field goal attempt shanked embarrassingly wide, and Vaught-Hemingway Stadium fell into a stunned silence—the same stunned silence pouring out from the heart of Athens when a Kirby Smart-coached defensive juggernaut falls behind by four touchdowns.

History and Context, Whimsical and Wild

This was Kentucky’s first win at Ole Miss since the glory days of 1978. You heard that right—disco, polyester, and a young Mark Stoops with plenty of hair and no pot belly. Now, some forty-six years later, Stoops orchestrated his magnum opus—beating a sixth-ranked Ole Miss squad in their own house when nobody gave him a chance. It was Kentucky’s highest-ranked road win at an SEC campus stadium ever. Not at No. 10 Vanderbilt in 1947, and not even over No. 1 Ole Miss in Jackson in 1964—it’s this one. And for Mark Stoops, who’s now in his 12th year and building a statue one giant win at a time, this was his 12th-ranked victory, his highest yet, and perhaps his most whimsical of all.

The critics may say Stoops can’t win the big one, but if upsetting No. 6 Ole Miss on the road isn’t a big one, what is? Since 2018, Kentucky is 12-16 against AP-ranked teams—not the kind of record that gets engraved in marble, but for a program once synonymous with SEC cellar-dwelling, it’s nothing short of a revelation.

Enjoy it Cat fans.

I’m still flying above the clouds.

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. He currently serves as a columnist for Nolan Group Media. You can follow him on social media @KYHuangs and check out his debut novel—“Name, Image, and Murder”—and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD

This post appeared first as a column for Nolan Group Media publications.

Heart Versus Head

Will Kentucky Football deliver fans a dream season or a heartbreaker? The heart thinks Coach Mark Stoops is headed for a magical ten-win campaign. The head says they’ll most likely hover around .500 (Photo Credit Dr. Michael Huang).

(LEXINGTON, Ky.) – It’s finally the end of August. Mercifully, for all the die-hard Kentucky football fans in the Commonwealth and beyond, that means talking season is over. Time for Stoops and crew to put up or shut up—to put behind them all the vacated wins, the “pony up” NIL comments, and the ill-advised courtship down in Aggieland—and start gearing up for another season of rampant expectations and stone-cold reality.

The coup-de-gras of talking season always involves bold and daring predictions about how the season will go. I’m no different in that regard. But this year, instead of plowing forward with prognostications from my big blue heart, I thought I’d also include those from my worry-addled head. It’s amazing how divergent the two can be.

Southern Miss, Ohio, Murray State, and Vanderbilt

These are the four teams on the schedule that both the heart and head readily agree on. Referred to by many as the “stinky” teams, they’re pretty much automatic wins. The heart thinks that Kentucky will win easily by thirty-point blowouts against all of them. The head is a little more cautious. After all, the Cats might let up a bit against inferior competition. And remember, Kentucky always manages to pull a stinker of their own every year. Nevertheless, all four of these games should be stat-padding confidence building wins for the boys wearing blue.

South Carolina, Louisville

These are two teams Kentucky should also be able to beat. They both take place in the friendly confines of Kroger Field against teams with comparable talent. The head fears that both opposing head coaches have a bit more to gain by taking down the Wildcats, but the heart is convinced that the home field advantage will be the ultimate difference maker. Fear not, then—Shane Beamer and Jeff Brohm be damned—both heart and head are predicting wins on these two critical swing games.

Tennessee, Texas

On the other end of the spectrum, both the heart and the head agree that the odds of pulling off victories in Knoxville and Austin are slim to none this year. As far as the Vols are concerned, Kentucky has only won once on the orange checkerboards in the last forty years. Some may say they’re long overdue. The heart and the head both say, “Nope.” Long suffering UK football fans understand it’s simply not going to happen.

As for the Longhorns, they’re the new sheriff in town. They’ll be ramped up for anyone sporting the SEC logo on their uniforms. Steve Sarkisian can coach, the game-day atmosphere will be off the charts, and the next to last regular season game most likely indicates the Cats will be limping to the finish line. Time to put both of these games in the loss column.

Georgia, Mississippi, Florida, Auburn

Here’s where the head and heart take radically different paths.

Most pundits have already anointed Georgia as league champs. Not so fast says the heart. It’s easier to get to the top than to stay on top. Plus, Brock Vandagriff will have something to prove against his former teammates. If the wonder-boy transfer is as good as they claim, September 14 will be the day the legend begins. KENTUCKY IN A MONUMENTAL UPSET. The head on the other hand says, “You’re nuts!” Kentucky has lost 14 in a row to Georgia, and Mark Stoops has never sniffed a victory against the Bulldogs in his lifetime. Not going to happen this year.

The Ole Miss game is certainly winnable, and the heart predicts a huge road conquest in Oxford. Kentucky nearly did it last time they paid a visit to The Grove. Unfortunately—says the head—Lane Kiffin’s squad will be better than advertised. They return a boatload of offensive firepower combined with one of the best transfer classes in the country. Enjoy the tailgating because you’re not leaving the Magnolia State with a “W.”

Kentucky has gained the upper hand on the Gators recently, winning four out of the last six. Coach Billy Napier’s hot seat will explode when the Cats make it five out of seven—thinks the heart. “Not going to happen,” says the head. Just like they say in the stock market—past performance is no indicator for future success. The atmosphere in The Swamp will be too hot to handle. According to the head, it’s heartbreak hotel for Kentucky fans making the trip.

This isn’t your daddy’s Auburn team—claims the heart. In fact, it’s not even close in regard to talent. Bo Jackson and Cam Newton are not walking through that door. Throw in a rabid home crowd and you should see some happy home revelers in the Bluegrass as Halloween approaches. But Auburn is still Auburn—cautions the head. Tradition matters. Plus, this has the makings of the aforementioned stinker game. It’s a huge letdown as the thump, thump, thump of basketballs reverberates and takes over.

So, there you have it. The heart claims 10 – 2 and a spot in the twelve-team playoffs. The head fears 6 – 6 and a consolation invitation to the Independence Bowl.

Whether it’s a magical playoff run all the way to Atlanta or a mundane trip to Shreveport, one thing’s for sure—Kentucky football fans will have plenty of reasons to keep their cardiologists (and psychiatrists) on speed dial. Buckle up BBN, it’s going to be one exciting ride.

See you along the way.

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. You can follow him on social media @KYHuangs and check out his debut novel, “Name, Image, and Murder” and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD

This blog posting first appeared as part of Nolan Group Media publications.

huangswhinings

Tag: BBN