Tag: sports

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

Cats’ Meow: Ole Miss Smackdown

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.

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

Zvonimir’s Jaw-Dropping Debut

Zvonimir’s Jaw-Dropping Debut

(LEXINGTON, Ky.) – Attention College Basketball World: We interrupt your current season to bring you this special announcement. The program with the greatest tradition in the history of college basketball just delivered another “you’ve got to be kidding me” moment.

Considering the grand tradition that is Kentucky Basketball, you’d think these announcements might amount to a dime a dozen. But these declarations—manifested as iconic moments—are by definition few and far between. Because iconic moments are just that—archetypal, quintessential, seminal—occurring only once every decade or so.

Hatton’s halfcourt prayer, James Lee’s thunderous dunk, Padgett from the top of the key, Tayshawn from ten feet yonder. Full names and dates and descriptions not needed because the events themselves transcend the details. They’re all moments where we remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when Claude or Cawood or Tom described them so vividly.

And now add this one to your treasured archives: Zvonimir’s behind the back pass leading up to that glorious, mythical, magical, “THIS HAS TO GO IN” three-pointer by Antonio Reeves. Store it in there tight. Preserve it at all costs on your Mount Rushmore of Kentucky Basketball memories. Don’t let it ever dissipate or dissolve because you’ll repeatedly share that precious moment—through your own mist-filled eyes—with your children and grandchildren. You’ll nostalgically relive with friends and loved ones the joy and passion unique to us as privileged citizens residing in a proud and unified Big Blue Nation.

For those in winter hibernation who have no earthly idea what all this ruckus is about, I present to you Zvonimir Ivišić. Kentucky’s 7-foot-2 freshman took the floor for the first time and helped the eighth-ranked Wildcats cruise to a 105 – 96 smackdown of the visiting Georgia Bulldogs.

By the time the final horn sounded, Zvonimir (or Big Z as he’s affectionately known) had stuffed the stat sheet. The rising star from Croatia scored 13 points (on 5-of-7 shooting, 3-for-4 from behind the arc), grabbed five rebounds, had two assists, three blocks, and two steals in just 16 minutes of action. But it was the interminable delay in becoming eligible to even play that added to the overall magnitude of his heroics on the court.

For you see, Big Z waited patiently for nearly five whole months from the time he committed to play for the University of Kentucky before the big bad NCAA finally granted him clearance. The announcement, which came suddenly through an email from the clandestine smoke-filled back rooms of the NCAA compliance office, was met with joyful relief by everyone, including those in the Ivišić clan back home in Vodice.

“They were just too happy for me,” Zvonimir acknowledged after the game. “They couldn’t wait for me to play. They were praying to God every day that this day came.”

God answered their prayers with one of the greatest debuts I’ve ever witnessed in Rupp Arena. But historically speaking, where will we ultimately rank it?  

Iconic moments are laudable and noteworthy because they represent something far greater than the play on the court. As fantastic as Big Z’s debut turned out, is it possible we’ll only elevate it into the pantheon of UK Basketball’s greatest moments if Kentucky wins a national championship?

I would say that’s debatable. Does anyone care that Tayshawn’s five three-pointers against North Carolina took place in a season that ended at the Sweet Sixteen? Do fans dismiss the lovable Oscar Tshiebwe and all his other-worldly rebounding feats of grandeur because his team got Saint Petered? Do we wipe out the accomplishments of Kentucky’s 1983 – 84 team—one of my personal all-time favorites—simply because they had one horrific half of shooting?

We all agree that iconic moments represent more than just a statistic or a final score. They’re compilations of multiple factors coming to a head. They take into account the stories behind the story—the relentless practices, the team camaraderie, the sacrifices involved in striving to be that championship caliber team.  

But even more than that, these moments are deemed iconic because we as fans grant them iconic status. We get to be judge and jury, our feelings and emotions and participation in the moment every bit as important as the moment itself. Only time will tell. History will judge.  

For the time being, then, let’s just all bask in Big Z’s iconic debut. For the time being, let’s watch it again and again on YouTube, replay it over and over in our minds. Let’s cheer, scream, and jump up and down like idiots as we all did in real time.

For the time being, let’s all eat, drink, and be merry. Dismiss those worries regarding Final Four droughts, defensive lapses, or mysterious “general soreness” injuries that linger.

And for the time being, just relish and enjoy every game…and thank God for answered prayers. Because for a couple of fleeting moments smack dab in the middle of college basketball season, Zvonimir Ivišić gave Kentucky Basketball fans a glimpse of heaven on earth.

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and the award-winning author of Kentucky Passion. He currently serves as a reporter and sports columnist for Nolan Group Media. 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