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<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
It\u2019s a March thing.\u00a0 It\u2019s a mad thing.<\/p>\n
And for us, it\u2019s a family thing.<\/p>\n
In the state of my birth, with its blue-tinged grass, honey-colored Bourbon, and the fried chicken that conquered the world, basketball reigns supreme.\u00a0 Oh, sure, we love the Boys of Fall (especially this past year). And we did, after all, bring the world its quintessential baseball bat, the venerable Louisville Slugger.\u00a0\u00a0And yes, of course, our blazing-fast horses are the stuff of story and song\u2014true, all true\u2013 but basketball is rooted in the marrow of our bones.\u00a0 Like so many states, we have a bifurcated soul for college sports, but there is no house divided in my family. We stand solidly within the unfettered boundaries of the Big Blue Nation (BBN), the admittedly maniacal fan tribe of the University of Kentucky. \u00a0And when March rolls around in the Big Blue Nation, attention must be paid.\u00a0Because they don\u2019t call it Madness for nothing.<\/p>\n
As luck would have it, a prime tournament game fell this late March week on an evening when Buddy and Sis were visiting overnight.\u00a0 How to maneuver this, I wondered, reaching back in memory, trying to recall how early I watched basketball.\u00a0 Must have been REALLY early, because I can\u2019t remember not watching, any more than I can remember a spring without daffodils, dogwoods, or the Kentucky Derby.\u00a0 Two options emerged for Elite Eight night:\u00a0 offer the kids a movie in the other room, or take a shot at wrapping them into the fold.\u00a0 I tested this concept with preliminary market research and found that terminology may still be rolling up the learning curve, but the core concept is definitely rooted.<\/p>\n
Hey, guys, there\u2019s a big game on after dinner, I begin.\u00a0 Basketball, our Kentucky Wildcats.\u00a0 Wanna watch it with me?<\/p>\n
\u201cNah,\u201d Buddy responds, shaking his head.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m not much for that.\u201d\u00a0 As I take a breath to formulate Plan B, he continues, \u201cI really like March Madness.\u00a0Can we watch that?\u201d<\/p>\n
That\u2019s it! I affirm in relief.\u00a0 That\u2019s what I mean.\u00a0 The Wildcats are playing in March Madness.\u00a0 Big game.\u00a0Go Cats!\u00a0 Right?<\/p>\n
\u201cGO CATS!\u201d echo the two young nascent fans, Tennessee transplants but, like their G-ma, Kentucky natives.\u00a0 So, I dig in the closet for extra Kentucky t-shirts, rustle up some snacks, and we settle in for tip-off.<\/p>\n
We played the late game, with tip-off near their usual bedtime, even on a weekend. \u00a0I remind myself to be flexible if they can\u2019t hang, but the raucous game holds its own attractions.\u00a0 The speed alone was probably enough to keep them riveted, with the added bonus of the satisfying little flashing indicator in the lower corner of the screen each time the ball hit net.<\/p>\n
Watch those numbers at the bottom of the screen, I urge, watch how fast they change.\u00a0 Look!\u00a0 We got a basket; what\u2019s the score now?\u00a0 See that guy shoot the ball from so far away?\u00a0 He gets extra points for that.\u00a0 Three!<\/p>\n
Buddy studied the action as the three-pointer was answered almost immediately by a snaking blitz down court and a slam dunk.\u00a0 The magnificence of this electrifying leap was undervalued in his reason-driven, eight-year-old brain.\u00a0 \u201cIt seems like that should get four points,\u201d he observed thoughtfully, eyes still glued to the action as the young superstar hung briefly on the basket then dropped back to terra firma.<\/p>\n
During a timeout, I keep up the patter, pointing out the sea of blue in the arena.\u00a0 See those folks?\u00a0 They\u2019re all for the Wildcats, just like us.\u00a0 Hear them cheering? Later when the TV camera zooms in on the angry, swearing face of the opposing coach, I seek to divert.\u00a0 Look, that\u2019s funny, he\u2019s wearing a blue shirt, I note.\u00a0 That\u2019s our color.<\/p>\n
Sis frowns with palms up in question mode, head cocked.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s weird.\u00a0 It looks like he\u2019s voting for us.\u201d<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, the family basketball commentary extends over state lines, and reaches up into global airspace.\u00a0 My brother, sister, brother-in-law and I, ardent fans all, often maintain a running, four-way text commentary on the status of the game.\u00a0 After I fire off a confirmation that we are watching in Nashville, I get a return confirmation from the sister and brother-in-law in Central Kentucky, though I have forgotten that my brother and his wife left that afternoon for a vacation in Europe.\u00a0 No matter!\u00a0Citizens of the BBN always find the game, somewhere somehow, and sure enough, here buzzes a text from the jetliner, high above the Atlantic, bound for Paris.\u00a0 \u201cThis in-flight internet is the best $20 I ever spent,\u201d says Brother, taking up his thread in the text conversation while streaming the game.\u00a0 \u201cGO CATS!\u201d<\/p>\n
When the opposing team starts to close the gap, narrowing our lead, Buddy seeks to needle me by cheering for their progress and watching my reaction.\u00a0 As I try to silence this with a frown, he tries out adult logic again.\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s just a GAME,\u201d he says, placatingly.<\/p>\n
There can be only one response here:\u00a0 Not to me, not to Wildcat fans.\u00a0 You have to understand, I try to explain\u2014this was my school, where I went to college, and where your mother went, and your father went to law school, and your great aunt and uncle\u2026on the litany goes.\u00a0 Suddenly, I am overwhelmed with memories, bouncing atop one another.\u00a0 Sitting in the student section with free tickets, so close to the floor you heard the sneakers squeak.\u00a0 Scoring lottery student tickets to the Final Four my senior year in college, and the dizzying euphoria when the championship fell to us.\u00a0 The names of every starter on that team.\u00a0 Years earlier, sitting on the floor in front of the TV in the little paneled den at home, a young teen watching records smashed, a tradition built one championship flag after another.\u00a0 Something to cheer for, to look forward to, to speculate on, to scream about, something that transcends so many boundaries.\u00a0 Something that still peaks every year in March, still infuses unbridled anticipation.\u00a0 Just a game?\u00a0Never.\u00a0 Not in my house\u2014this last is delivered with a wink.<\/p>\n
But it is half time now, and that means bed time for my two fellow watchers.\u00a0 \u201cTell me what happens,\u201d Buddy pleads, and I promise I will.\u00a0 After I tuck them in with their bedtime books in the adjacent room, I am reduced for the second half to pounding the couch cushion and flinging arms into the air silently, hoping not to keep them awake as the game rolls to a breathtaking close.\u00a0 At last, a Wildcat victory is secure.<\/p>\n
Checking on them one last time for the night, I stroke Buddy\u2019s thick blonde bangs briefly, thinking he is asleep.\u00a0 The blue eyes pop open for just a second as he whispers sleepily: \u201cHow much did we win by?\u201d<\/p>\n
Four, I whisper back.\u00a0Four points.\u00a0 His eyes widen in triumph, there is a very brief, -small smile, and he turns face back to pillow. But I\u2019ll take that as a sign.\u00a0 Another fan in the ranks, the new generation.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It\u2019s a March thing.\u00a0 It\u2019s a mad thing. And for us, it\u2019s a family thing. In the state of my birth, with its blue-tinged grass, honey-colored Bourbon, and the fried chicken that conquered the world, basketball reigns supreme.\u00a0 Oh, sure, we love the Boys of Fall (especially this past year). And we did, after all, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1586,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1585","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-grandkids"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1585","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1585"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1585\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1586"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1585"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1585"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1585"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}