Tag: march-madness

Dear Duke Basketball

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

United We Stand, Divided We Fall

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.

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