In Stoops We Trust (Whether You Like It or Not)

In Stoops We Trust (Whether You Like It or Not)

(LEXINGTON, Ky.) – Funny how one Saturday can change the entire temperature of the Bluegrass. Just a week ago, half of Big Blue Nation was ready to pack Mark Stoops’ bags for him. With Kentucky’s huge 38-7 victory over Florida on Saturday night, the path to bowl eligibility now becomes a whole lot clearer. Suddenly, the same folks who wanted Stoops’ head on a platter are out shopping for “In Stoops We Trust” T-shirts.

That’s life in the SEC—one minute you’re an overpaid underachiever, the next you’re the savior of the Commonwealth. But whether you were cheering Stoops before Florida or rediscovering your faith afterward, one thing remains constant: the man deserves to stay. Not because of one big win, but because of the foundation he’s built and the culture he’s created.

Let’s face it, the honeymoon was long over before tonight. The flowers had wilted, the champagne went flat, and the marriage between Mark Stoops and Big Blue Nation felt more like a 25-year-old couch—no longer comfortable, visibly soiled, and sagging in all the wrong places.

Everywhere you turned, folks were hollering for divorce. Social media was ablaze with “Fire Stoops” hashtags. Radio hosts were frothing at the mouth and ready to kick him to the curb and swipe right on someone—anyone—new.

Well, not anymore, my friend. Before we stick that “For Sale” sign in Stoops’ front yard, let’s take a deep breath, pour ourselves a glass of Kentucky bourbon, and think this through with a little perspective—and a dash of sanity.

For one, let’s talk dollars and sense. That buyout? Thirty-seven. Million. Dollars. That’s not a typo. That’s not Monopoly money. That kind of cash could fund an entire NIL war chest and keep Cutter Boley grinning for the next couple of years.

And let’s not forget history. Mark Stoops is the winningest coach in Kentucky football history. Think about that. More wins than Bear Bryant during his Kentucky days. More wins than Fran Curci, Jerry Claiborne, or Rich Brooks combined (well, close enough for rhetorical effect). Sure, some of those wins came against glorified high schools disguised as non-conference opponents, but they still count in the record book—and on the paycheck.

People forget how bleak it was before Stoops. Joker Phillips limped out the door with the fanbase howling. The program was a punchline, a perennial cellar dweller where bowl games were as rare as John Calipari NCAA wins post Covid. Stoops changed that. He brought stability. He brought hope. He brought swagger. And yes, he even brought us a ten-win season—twice! That’s not stale; that’s historic.

Now, I get it. Things felt stagnant the past couple of years. The offense sputtered forever, the defense gave up too many big plays, and the postgame pressers all sounded like reruns of Groundhog Day. Stoops kept saying, “We’ll clean it up; get back to work.” But it started feeling like the same spilled milk being mopped up year after year.

But let me ask the question that haunts every program stuck in the “fire him” cycle: Who you gonna get that’s better?

Seriously. Who?

Nick Saban’s busy counting his retirement checks. Kirby Smart’s not walking through that door. Urban Meyer? Please—he couldn’t even handle Jacksonville. And as much as people want to throw out names like Jon Sumrall or Will Stein, let’s pump the brakes. Sumrall’s a fine coach, but running Tulane isn’t the same as running an SEC program with boosters, egos, and ESPN cameras breathing down your neck. And Will Stein? He’s got promise, sure—but he’s barely had time to unpack at Oregon. Handing him the keys to Kentucky football right now would be like giving a 16-year-old your trusted Mercedes and hoping for the best.

Coaching transitions are messy. You could just as easily end up with the next hot coordinator who flames out in two seasons, leaving us all longing for the good ol’ days when Stoops at least got us to the Music City Bowl.

And here’s something people overlook: his players still believe in him. They play hard. They don’t quit. Even when the scoreboard turns ugly, they fight to the end. That’s not nothing. That’s culture—culture that Mark Stoops built brick by brick. You can’t fake that, and you certainly can’t buy it with NIL money. Remember when Kentucky teams used to fold faster than a lawn chair at a tailgate? Not anymore. This group—his group—competes, cares, and represents the program with pride. They don’t flinch. That’s his real legacy.

What Stoops provides—whether fans admit it or not—is stability. And in the volatile world of college football, stability is the rarest commodity. It’s not sexy. It’s not flashy. But it’s the bedrock on which long-term success is built. Programs like Iowa, Wisconsin, and Kansas State built entire identities on stability. They don’t panic after a bad season. They reload, recalibrate, and keep grinding.

And that’s what Stoops does best. He grinds. He builds men, not just football players. He develops two-star recruits into NFL draft picks. He preaches accountability, loyalty, and hard work. Those aren’t buzzwords; they’re virtues—spiritual ones, even.

Maybe that’s what this whole debate boils down to. We’ve lost our patience in a world of instant gratification. We want quick fixes, shiny new toys, and miracle seasons. But life—like faith—isn’t about the quick fix. It’s about perseverance through the dry spells. It’s about trust.

The Bible says in Galatians 6:9, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” That’s not just good theology—it’s good football philosophy. Stoops has been sowing seeds in rocky soil for over a decade. He’s weathered storms, endured heartbreaks, and still kept this program relevant. That’s not a man you throw away. That’s a man you stand by.

So before you call the moving truck, Big Blue Nation, remember: the grass isn’t always bluer on the other side. Sometimes, the real victory is learning to bloom where you’re planted.

And if you don’t like that spiritual analogy, fine—think of it this way: $37 million buys a lot of forgiveness.

This article was originally written for distribution through Nolan Group Media publications.

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 latest, “Whining For Posterity,” and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD

Deny, Deflect, and Denounce

Deny, Deflect, and Denounce

If there’s one thing I’ve learned after jumping into this media gig, it’s that when a coach’s lips are moving, there’s at least a 50–50 chance he’s fibbing. I say that with affection. Lying is practically a job requirement in this business—right up there with headset-throwing, blaming officials, and shaming reporters.

After Kentucky’s 35–14 loss to Georgia, Mark Stoops was asked about Alan Cutler’s recent report that he’d talked to athletics director Mitch Barnhart about a buyout and was turned down. Stoops’ response was swift, combative, and—shall we say—dismissive.

“I hate to give anything like that legs,” he said, when asked directly about it by Jon Hale of the Herald-Leader. “There’s zero (truth). I told you last year, right? I mean you guys could write it and say what you want about me, but, I mean, I told you there’s zero chance I’m walking away. I mean, zero.”

“There’s no quit in me,” Stoops added. “That’s unequivocally, 100% false, and anybody says otherwise is lying. I don’t want to address that crap no more.”

Now that’s what I call a full-throated rebuttal. In media training circles, they call this the Triple D Defense: deny, deflect, and denounce. Deny the rumor. Deflect the question. Denounce the reporter. Bonus points if you do all three with a wry grin.

Let me say right up front—I like Mark Stoops. He lives down the street from me. In his twelve years at the helm, he’s pulled Kentucky Football out of the gutter—had two ten-win seasons and eight straight bowl appearances. The guy’s the all-time winningest coach in UK Football history for heaven’s sake. But let’s not confuse accomplishments with transparency.

Because coaches, bless their competitive little hearts, lie. They all do. It’s part of their DNA.

Nick Saban once swore up and down he wouldn’t be the next Alabama coach—until he was. Urban Meyer “retired for health reasons” more times than I’ve retired from sugar and carbs. John Calipari and Mitch Barnhart held their infamous TV lovefest, right up until the moving vans headed toward Fayetteville the very next month.

And here at home, I still remember Stoops looking me dead in the eye last November when I asked if there was any chance he was walking away. His answer? “Zero percent. Next question.”

There’s that magic word again—zero.

In football, zero is usually a bad number. It means you didn’t score. You didn’t convert. You didn’t cover. And when it comes to coaching truth-telling, “zero” has become the new “trust me.” It’s the perfect word—short, emphatic, and impossible to fact-check.

Here’s the thing—I’ve known Alan Cutler for a while now. The man’s a bulldog with a microphone. He’s not going to run with a story unless he’s confident in it. Alan Cutler doesn’t do clickbait. He does facts. After doing Cut to the Chase together, I know him better than anyone outside his family—and still bear scars from all the fact-checking he made me do for the book. And if Alan says there were conversations, I’m inclined to believe he had his ducks—and his sources—in a row.

Does that mean Stoops is lying? Maybe not in the dictionary sense. Maybe he’s simply… selectively remembering. Coaches are experts in creative truth management. It’s like when you ask them if a player’s hurt. “He’s day-to-day,” they say, which usually means “He’s got a broken leg.” Or when they claim “We’re not worried about rankings,” while secretly refreshing the AP poll between bites of postgame pizza.

They can’t help it—it’s part of the game. In a world where every word gets dissected on social media, sometimes the safest thing a coach can do is say absolutely nothing. And when “absolutely nothing” isn’t an option, they pick something that sounds emphatic. Like “zero.”

Still, I wish Stoops had taken a softer tack. Instead of calling the story “crap” and implying that people are lying, he could have said, “Alan’s a respected reporter, but I think he got some bad information.” That would’ve disarmed the room. Instead, he went on offense—helmet down, mouthpiece in, straight at the messenger.

But that’s Stoops. He’s a fighter. You don’t build Kentucky football from the ashes of 2–10 seasons without developing a thick skin and a quick temper. His intensity is what makes him stand out—and what sometimes gets him in trouble.

And maybe that’s the lesson here. In football, as in life, there’s always a little gray between truth and fiction. Coaches shade the truth not because they’re bad people, but because honesty doesn’t always fit neatly into a postgame soundbite. When the wolves are howling, “no comment” just doesn’t cut it.

So yes, Stoops denied, deflected, and denounced. But I’ll give him this—he did it with gusto. And if the team somehow turns it around and pulls off an upset or two, most fans will forgive a little fibbing. Winning, after all, is the ultimate lie detector.

As for me? I’ll keep believing Alan Cutler until proven otherwise. But I’ll also keep giving Mark Stoops the benefit of the doubt because he’s earned it. Coaches lie, reporters dig, fans overreact—it’s the great circle of sports life.

And if you ask Stoops whether any of this bothers him, I’m sure he’ll tell you—there’s zero percent chance.

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 latest, “Whining For Posterity,” and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD

Heart Versus Head

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.