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?

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

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.

Back to the Future

Mark Pope and Coach Rick Pitino enjoying the good times after Kentucky’s 1996 Championship run (David Perry/Lexington Herald-Leader staff file photo).

(LEXINGTON, Ky.) – The old has gone, the new has come.

In his farewell video to Big Blue Nation, John Calipari graciously acknowledged that the Kentucky basketball program needed a change at the top. Many of you agreed with him. Postseason wins had dwindled. Fan morale was at an all-time low. After the disappointing results from the last four years, Coach Cal’s snarky quips and swaggy braggadocio had turned a bit stale for anyone still gullible enough to listen. It was indeed time for a new voice.

Exit Boss Hogg. Enter Mark Pope.

News that the 51-year-old former Wildcat was taking over as the grand pooh-bah of college basketball’s Roman empire first leaked out late on Thursday night. With Billy Donovan still considered a viable candidate, the quick decision caught many by surprise. In fact, the mere mention of Pope as a serious choice generated more outrage initially than any debate on gun control, abortion, or unisex bathrooms.

Twelve hours later, however, the mood magically shifted. Although a few dissenters stood firm—and the “fire Mitch Barnhart” sentiments remained as ubiquitous as ever—the rest of Big Blue Nation began buying in and circling the wagons. After all, Mark Pope was one of us—a product of the glory years of the mid-90s, when the name on the front of the jersey instilled an overwhelming sense of pride, accomplishment, and honor to anyone heard cheering in the commonwealth. Plus, unlike Dan Hurley and Scott Drew, the man wanted to be here. He coveted the job.

In addition, Pope could coach. His teams at BYU played an exciting brand of basketball that spread the floor, shot threes with impunity, and actually ran in-bounds plays. On top of that, Pope was smart—a Rhodes Scholar candidate who completed three arduous years of medical school before chucking it all to pursue his coaching passion. Who in their right mind does that?

Ringing character endorsements provided the crowning coup de gras. Former teammates dubbed Pope as the ultimate leader with an infectious positivity that could move mountains. His former college coach—known for a few scandalous indiscretions of his own—attested on video to Pope’s moral integrity and grit.

Through it all, one important question loomed: Could Pope recruit? Time will soon tell. But given the blue-blooded resources now at his disposal, I’d say the chances are excellent. A just-announced $4 million injection into the Big Blue NIL fund certainly makes success more probable. He’ll need every penny, though. After John Calipari flew the coop, the cupboard for next year is frighteningly bare.

Putting all that aside, here’s what’s most astounding to me. Pope’s hiring is more than just a changing of the guard. His blink-of-an-eye ascension to the throne has resulted in something extraordinary. It’s miraculously galvanized the entire fan base in one unexpected fell swoop, giving every citizen of Big Blue Nation a lifesaving shot of adrenaline just when they needed it the most. By handing Mark Pope the keys to the kingdom, we’ve reconnected with our glorious past and recaptured everything that was once true, right, noble, pure, and admirable about the program we all knew and loved.

Okay—I’ll admit it—I’ve undoubtedly tasted the blue Kool-Aid. But here’s the thing. I’m not quite swallowing it just yet.

Ultimately, Mark Pope will be judged on one thing only—national championships. Adolph Rupp garnered four of them before being forced into retirement in 1972. Since then, four of Rupp’s successors, Joe B. Hall, Rick Pitino, Tubby Smith, and John Calipari have added additional national titles to Kentucky’s trophy case.

Will Mark Pope be the fifth?

It’s a daunting question for a new hire right out of the gate—especially to one who hasn’t won a single NCAA tournament game. But it’s also not unfair to ask it under the circumstances. Because the bar is always set unreasonably high in the Bluegrass. Mind you, the program with the greatest tradition in the history of college basketball doesn’t hang banners for Sweet 16s or Elite Eights. You won’t find participation trophies for Final Fours.

Mark Pope knows all that. And yet, he’s still willing to forsake the comforts of Provo, Utah—where expectations are much more pedestrian—to plunge willy nilly into the soul-sapping vortex that awaits him back in Lexington.

“UK changed my life forever as a human being,” Pope said in his introductory statement. “The love and passion I have for this program, this University and the people of the Commonwealth goes to the depth of my soul.”

For that reason alone, all Kentucky fans need to rally behind him. I’m all in for now. And for the sake of the kingdom, you should be too.

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. This blog post was originally written as a sports column for Nolan Group Media publications. You can follow Dr. Huang on social media @KYHuangs and check out all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD

United We Stand, Divided We Fall

It’s high time for John Calipari to do the honorable thing (Dr. Michael Huang Photo).

(LEXINGTON, Ky.) – A house divided cannot stand.

Whether attributed to Abraham Lincoln or Jesus Christ, those are wise words—and Big Blue Nation should take heed.

After another demoralizing and embarrassing first-round flameout in this year’s NCAA tournament, the Roman Empire of college basketball finds itself hopelessly divided, poised on the precipice of a potential epic collapse.

In one corner are the staunch “Fire Calipari” proponents, claiming that the Hall of Fame coach has lost his fastball. The worst regular season in program history (9 – 16 in 2021), the worst postseason losses in program history (Saint Peters in 2022 and now Oakland in 2024), and one paltry NCAA tournament win in the last five years does not the Gold Standard make.

In the other corner are the loyal Coach Cal stalwarts. Despite the lack of recent postseason success, he’s still the best person for the job. Four Final Fours and a National Championship builds you a lot of equity. The man is still one of the best recruiters out there. Plus, look at all the charitable work he’s done for the community. Who’re you going to get that’s better?

So, we’re at a virtual impasse—hopelessly divided, right? A $33.3 million buyout of Calipari’s lifetime contract only adds to the existing quagmire. That’s not chump change, and the University of Kentucky—even if generous boosters come up with the goods—cannot afford to squander that amount of money just to cover up Mitch Barnhart’s horrific boo-boo.

How, then, do we unify and rally the fanbase? If Calipari stays on as coach, I’m afraid that simply wouldn’t be possible. From what I’ve gleaned in talking to fans and media alike, the atmosphere is just way too toxic. Expecting him to change his polarizing methods at this stage is simply wishful thinking on our part. Who’s coaching at Kentucky next year is a topic for another time. It just can’t be John Calipari.

The honorable thing would be for Calipari to graciously step down. When you’ve tarnished the empire’s reputation, it’s time to fall on your sword. But we know he’s way too proud and stubborn to do that. Plus, that wouldn’t be really fair to him. Both parties agreed to the financial terms in advance. Calipari loves money, and I doubt he’d settle for a penny less to just walk away.

Upon further review, perhaps the buyout isn’t as daunting as it first appears.

First of all, there’s an offset in the contract, meaning that if Calipari would get another coaching job somewhere else, his new salary would count toward the buyout. Even at 65 years old, I don’t think Coach Cal is ready to retire to his private island, watch Alaska shows, and play with his dogs all day long.

Secondly, we’re not talking about a lump sum payment. The buyout would be paid in monthly installments over the next five years. That’s certainly manageable in the university’s $6.8 billion mega budget.

The key, then, is to find a good compromise, one that allows both parties to save face and walk away feeling good. The university can’t be seen as pissing money away in an irresponsible fashion, while Calipari can’t lose out on the cash he thinks he was promised and deserves. In addition, any boosters paying Calipari to go away also expect and demand a good return on their investment.

What if the university or the boosters pay Calipari the full buyout amount and then Calipari agrees to donate a portion of it over to whatever charitable cause he wishes? That way, the university feels that money was actually put to good use—which it would be. Calipari gets what he’s owed, further enhances his charitable legacy, and rides off into whatever sunset he chooses under the good graces of a forever thankful UK fan base.

What distinguishes that UK fan base from all the other pretenders is our unbridled passion. What binds us together is our like-minded heritage and culture. We derive deep pleasure and satisfaction in having our identity tied in with the program—the program with the greatest tradition in the history of college basketball.

That tradition is slowly slipping away. It’s time for Mitch Barnhart and John Calipari to stop the bleeding. Lock yourselves in a room and either sing kumbaya or punch each other silly. But don’t come out until you’ve reached a tenable solution.

As die-hard Kentucky fans, the onus is on us also. Whatever Barnhart and Calipari decide, it’s important for Big Blue Nation to stick together, to circle the wagons, and to come back next year more passionate than ever.

“United we stand, divided we fall” is our state motto.

Now the legacy of our basketball empire depends on it also.

huangswhinings

Tag: Kentucky Wildcats