My Mother's Eyes

It is a truth universally acknowledge that every woman becomes her mother as she gets older. Not that I’ve ever been too unlike my mother.

I have always sounded a lot like her--people used to confuse us on the phone all the time. And I’ve been old that my mannerisms--the way I stand, the way I move, the way I talk--are very much like hers. And, while my personality trends more towards my Dad’s (Jenny got Mom’s personality), I am getting more and more like Mom as I get older.

I look like her. I look a lot like her. I have her tall, lanky frame, her long limbs, her long fingers. And no one would ever call either of us “curvy.” I didn’t inherit her coloring--my hair has stayed much lighter than Mom’s dark brown and my skin borders on albino while hers had more color to it--but I did get her propensity for freckles. I have her nose, her ears, and, most noticeably, her eyes. The one thing that people always remembered about Mom were her eyes and now, when I look in the mirror, I often see her looking back at me.

But there is one thing that I hope my mother didn’t pass on to me--her ovaries.

I know it seems like a silly thing to say--after all, it was those ovaries that produced me. But it was also those ovaries that left me motherless at 20. You see, Mom was diagnosed with late stage ovarian cancer when I was just 17. She was 43. She fought hard for almost 3 years, but before I could finish my junior year of college, she was gone. She was only 46.

The statistics say that chances of a woman suffering from ovarian cancer in her lifetime are 1 in 71. The majority of women who are diagnosed are over the age of 60. In fact, unless you have a family history of the disease, they don’t even screen for the cancer until you are 50. For someone with no family history to be diagnosed as young as Mom was is very rare. It happens in only 8% of all cases. The 5 year survival rate is less than 50% but 68% of all cases are diagnosed after the cancer has spread to other organs (like Mom’s) which drops the 5 year survival rate to a paltry 30%. And for someone like me, who has a family history of the disease, the risks are tripled.

I’m not going to pretend that I spend every second of every day worrying about the future, but it certainly crosses my mind. I have the symptoms of ovarian cancer (such as they are) memorized--bloating, abdominal pain, feeling full quickly, digestive tract issues, rapid weight gain or loss. Every weird twinge, every bout of diarrhea, every time I lose a few pounds for no apparent reason I wonder if this it. I oscillate between wanting to run to the doctor for every little thing and not wanting to know. And, while I hate feeling like a hypochondriac, I recognize that the second option is potentially the fatal one. Luckily, I’ve found a doctor who understands my neurosis and takes all of my complaints seriously.

I also know that I’m doing everything I can to reduce my chances of developing ovarian cancer. As soon as I turned 25, I got myself into UK’s Ovarian Cancer Screening Program which means that I get a free ultrasound at least once a year. I’ve been on birth control pills since Mom died. I try to limit the amount of animal fats in my diet (which may be linked to a higher incidence of the cancer). I run and try to maintain good overall health. And, while I have not yet been tested for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes (since my insurance won’t pay for it), I will get tested one day.

But all of that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry about what might be lurking in my body. I realized the other day that by the time my mother was the same age I am now, her life was more than half over. In 16 years, I will be the same age she was when she was diagnosed. In 19 years I will have out lived her. It was a sobering thought. And a scary one.

There are so many things that I wish I had asked her. So much that I just don’t know. Was she as insecure about her height as I am? How did she know that Dad was “the one?” What was it like when she and Dad started their family? Did she know something was wrong before she went to the doctor? Was there anything she overlooked?

And of course, there are the things that she won’t ever get to experience with me. She didn’t get to see either of her daughters graduate from college. We never got to take our Europe trip the summer after graduation. I will never get to introduce her to the man I will marry. She won’t be in the hospital when I have my first baby. She will never know her grandchildren.

But then I look back over the years that I got to spend with her, and I have to smile. We had a lot of fun. There was a lot of love. And I can only hope that one day I’m half as good of a parent as she was.

So, I am proud to say that I am my mother’s daughter. When people mention how alike we are, I smile and nod. I know I have my mother’s eyes. But in one way at least, I hope I am different.

How Do I Love Thee....Let Me Count the Ways (John Wall Edition)

It’s coming up on Valentine’s Day (which I usually ignore) and love is in the air, so I thought I’d expound a bit on why I love John Wall. To set the record straight, I also love Patrick and Boogie, but Wall has been in the media a LOT in the last few days and so, naturally, he’s on my mind.

My love fest has to begin with the disclaimer that while I agree that Wall’s basketball skills are AMAZING, they aren’t the reason (or at least the main reason) why I love him. UK has been privileged to be the alma mater to a number of highly talented players over the years, but most of them don’t make my top five favorite players (Chuck Hayes, Tayshaun Prince, Travis Forde, Tony Delk, Cameron Mills). What you might notice about my all-time top 5, is that while 3 of them made it to the NBA, 2 didn’t, and one (Hayes) is relegated to mostly a back up role for his team. What made me love these guys wasn’t their on the court skills, rather it was a list of off the court qualities like attitude, team spirit, and emotion. (And the fact that Hayes cried on Senior Night.)

You might also notice that every one of those guys was a 4 year player at UK. I don’t really like the idea of One-and-Dones. I’ve never been a fan of players who come in highly regarded and stay only a year or two (Rondo, Morris, I’m looking at you). While I recognize their benefit to the team, I never really take to them for the simple reason that I don’t want to develop a relationship with someone who is going to leave early. So I was predisposed to hate Wall from the moment he signed his Letter of Intent.

I also tend to dislike players that come in with lots of hype. They rarely seem to live up to the expectations, and often come with egos that outstrip any talent they might have--can we say Rashad Carruth? (Carruth, Carruth, Carruth is on fire!) Yet another knock against Wall. How could a kid that was as hyped as Wall was not come in with a huge ego? How could he possibly live up to the hype? How much trouble would he cause?

What I found, almost from the first moment Wall set foot on campus, was that he wasn’t what I expected at all. First off, he was humble. Despite being asked about himself constantly, he rarely gave an interview where he didn’t mention at least one, if not more, of his team mates. He praised Cousins, Bledsoe, Patterson, everyone else on the team. And, surprisingly enough, the rest of the team didn’t seem to mind that Wall was getting the lion’s share of the attention--and they seemed to genuinely like Wall. Already I could feel my dislike beginning to crack.

He also went to class and studied hard (rumor has it that he got a 4.0 during his summer session and at least a 3.5 during the fall). For a kid who would be spending at most 3 semesters on campus to care that much about his school work seemed--well crazy. But he does care. And being a bookworm myself, that certainly made me love him (at least a little).

On the court he was even better than advertised. Did he make freshman mistakes? Sure. But after watching him play a few times, I was willing to give him a couple of stupid passes a game in exchange for some of his thrilling break away dunks and fabulous passes. And watching him take over games (but only when we needed him to) made me realize just how talented he was.

But what has cemented my love for John Wall is how he has handled the pressure cooker that is being the most talented freshman to play college basketball this year for the greatest college basketball program of all time. He has done amazingly well for a kid who is only 19.

Take, for example, this latest dust up about Wall and Cal not getting along. Did he make a rather ill-advised comment Saturday after the game about being unhappy and frustrated? Yeah. But he’s 19. Most 19 year old kids don’t have to deal with swarms of media every time they step into public asking about everything from his choice of shoe to why he isn’t smiling. Most 19 year old kids vent all the time to all kinds of people via Twitter, Facebook, and text. As far as I’m concerned, all Wall was doing was venting. His coach had gotten on him, and he was mad about it. He felt wronged. Most teens do at some point. So he said something he probably shouldn’t have.

What impressed me about the whole thing wasn’t that he slipped up and made the comment (although that did prove that he’s human). What impressed me were the comments he made today. He admitted that he was wrong about how well he played at USC. He admitted that Cal was right when he said Wall hadn’t played well and that he and Cal were “good.” And he admitted that there were things he wanted to work on.

What, might you ask, does Wall think he needs to work on? His scoring (17 points per game)? His rebounding (3.6)? Steals? Blocks? No, the thing that Wall thinks he needs to work on most is his assist per game average (6.8). He isn’t worried about the stats that most guys focus on, he wants to make sure he is getting the ball to his teammates enough.

For a little perspective, the all time assist leader at UK for a single season was Roger Harden who had 232 assists in the 85-86 season and averaged only 6.4 a game (over 36 games). Roger Harden also holds the record for the highest Assists/Game average in a single season. Wall already holds the single game assist record (16 vs Hartford). And the only other freshmen to ever lead the team in assists were the great Rex Chapman who averaged a measly 3.6 a game over 29 games and Liggins last year with an even more meager 2.8.

So, for Wall, arguably the best player in Division I basketball this year, to want to improve on his 6.8 assist per game average says a lot about this young man’s character. He wants to make his teammates happy when he has every right to think of them simply as “those other guys on the floor.” And so, despite the fact that I was predisposed to dislike him, Wall has wormed his way into my heart. Will he become one of my all time favorite players? Probably not. It is going to take a lot to crack my top 5. But he has certainly made himself one of my favorites on this team--and it has little to do with what he’s been doing on the court. Keep it up, John.

Christmas Day 2009

What happens when you let the parents play with the Wii......

Like Coming Home...

I watched my first UK game at Freedom Hall when I was 11. My first trip to Rupp came a year later. I don’t remember who we played, although I am pretty sure that UK won. What I do remember is the sense of awe I felt as I came out the tunnel and saw the arena for the first time--the floor, the benches, the National Championship Banners, the retired jerseys. It was everything I had seen on TV my whole life, and more. I many ways, it was like coming home.

Our seats were not nearly as good as they had been the year before--think nosebleed, above the banners--but I didn’t care. I was in Rupp. If watching the team play live in Freedom Hall had made me a UK fan for life, watching them play in Rupp was my indoctrination to the religion that is UK basketball.

A few years ago, there was a fabulous article written by a reporter from South Carolina who came to Rupp for a USC game against UK. He likened visiting Rupp Arena to going to church. He talks about how those to get to attend the games feel privileged to do so. He talks about how the fans worship the program. He talks about the fanaticism that leads thousands of people to worship this team when they may never get to see them play, never get to attend the university they represent, never get to meet a player or a coach.

I read that article a few years ago. By that time, I had been a student at UK, I had seen countless games from the stands, I had even been on the floor during pre-game warm ups. But when I read about his experience at Rupp, it took me back to that first game. It took me back to the sense of awe I felt looking up at the (then) 5 National Title Banners and the retired jerseys bearing names like Beard, Groza, Mashburn, and Issel. It took me back and made me feel like that 12 year old again.

I keep that article bookmarked and whenever I start to lose the feeling of wonder that should accompany watching UK play, I pull it up and read it again. It reminds me what I love about coming to Rupp. Coming to Rupp is like coming home.

Here is a link to the Article I was talking about: Rupp Arena Like Going to Church

In the Beginning....

I can honestly say that I don’t remember a time when Kentucky basketball wasn’t a part of my life. I was born into a family that was (and still is) crazy about UK basketball. I grew up watching the Cats play.

Winters were spent sprawled on the living room floor either watching or listening to games with my Dad. You knew to settle in about 10 minutes before tip off and there was to be no moving around during the game. No walking in front of the TV. No talking. Games were serious business.

As I got older and started to play basketball myself, games were a chance for Dad to teach me. I learned about zone defenses, pick and rolls, and full court pressure by watching Kentucky. The proper techniques for bounce passes, free throws, and setting screens were demonstrated by players like Ford, Delk, Mashburn, and Rhodes.

And then, some time around the start of 6th grade I fell in love. Most girls that age were pouring over Tiger Beat magazine. They had posters of the New Kids on the Block on their walls. I read the Kentucky Basketball Yearbook and had a UK basketball poster hanging over my bed. My love? Travis Ford.

Now, don’t get wrong, I loved all my UK basketball players, but Ford was by far my favorite. I read his section of the yearbook so often I could recite it by heart. I knew his height, his weight, all his stats from the year before, and more non-traditional things like his favorite ice cream and his favorite movie. During games, I watched him all more than anyone else. I talked about him with my friends. The highlight of my life was when my Dad went to a game and brought me back a 3 point card signed by Traivs Ford. At one point I was going to marry him.

That season (1993-94) was his senior year. It was the year of Jeff Brassow’s last second tip in to win the Maui Invitational. It was the year Ford hit a record 50 free throws in a row. It was the year of the Mardi Gras Miracle down at LSU. But most importantly, it was the year that I got to see my first UK game--Live.

It was UK vs Mississippi at Freedom Hall in Louisville on Wednesday January 12. My Dad, my best friend Melissa, and I sat mid court in the balcony row B (yes, I remember all that). The minutes leading up to the team coming out for warm up were some of the longest of my life. (We were in our seats as soon as the doors opened.) And, when they ran out, I got my first glimpse of the guys who were rock stars in my world. I’m kind of surprised that I didn’t pass out.

What I did do was take about 3 rolls of film worth of pictures (remember film?) on a camera with no zoom and a flash that you had to attach externally. Not one of them was any good--all the players were about the size of ants--but to me they would be priceless. We all cheered for the whole game, me so loudly that I couldn’t talk the next day. And, while I don’t remember much about the game itself (UK won 98-64) I do know that it was one of the best days of my life. And I’m pretty sure that my mom and my sister got tired of hearing me talk about the game in the weeks and months that followed.

After that point, there was no going back. I had been fully initiated into the Big Blue Nation and I was destined to bleed blue for life.

Here's video highlights from the Mardi Gras Miracle game (incidentally I went to bed before the miracle come back, it was the last time I ever didn't watch the end of a game, no matter how horrible things were going.)

It's Basketball Time in the Bluegrass!!!

With basketball season nearly upon us, everyone is talking about our new coach and what he is going to bring to (or should I say bring back to) Kentucky basketball. Excitement is at an all time high. Rumors and speculation are running wild.

The coach himself, however, cautions that we need to keep in mind that we have a young team full of new players who have to learn a whole new system of basketball and things will be shaky at the start. I contend, however, that the learning curve doesn’t just apply to the players (and the fans) as they learn the dribble drive offense, but to the coach as well. There is nothing quite like Kentucky basketball and it can take an outsider a little while to learn to ropes.

Over the years I’ve had the task of trying to explain what Kentucky basketball is and what it means to several people. What I’ve found is that UK basketball is one of those things that defies description.

Sure, you can list the stats--7 NCAA Championships, 13 Final Fours, 48 Tournament appearances, 43 SEC regular season titles, 25 SEC tournament Championships, 1988 games won--but there is so much more to it than the numbers.

It’s about the love that the people of Kentucky have for their team. It’s about the pride we feel when we watch them play. It’s about the heart ache we feel when they lose and the glee we feel when they win. It’s about people who pass season tickets down to their grandchildren and drive 3 hours both ways for every home game.

It’s about the people who show up for every game and those that never see them play. The ones who fly to Maui and Alaska for pre-season Invitationals. The people who throw game day parties to watch on HD TVs, those that watch in bars with 300 of their closest friends, and those that spent years crouching around radios to listen to Caywood.

It’s about kids that grow up playing ball in driveways and backyards, on courts made of dirt, concrete, shingles, and grass with backboards tacked to the sides of houses and barns and stuck up on light poles. It’s about kids who take thousands of last second shots to beat teams like Louisville, Duke, and Florida. Kids who grow up idolizing people like Macy, Issel, Givens, Delk, Mashburn, Rondo, and Patterson.

How do you put all of that into words? What can you say that encapsulates everything that this team is to everyone? You can’t. You can’t possibly understand Kentucky basketball unless you have lived Kentucky basketball.

But I would like to try. I would like to try and explain what Kentucky basketball is, at least to me. So, what I’m going to do is, in a series of posts, try to highlight different aspects of my relationship with the Wildcats. It may not work, but hey, why not at least play the game?

An Open Letter to Lexington

Dear Lexington,

You know I love you. I must. I’ve lived here for 9 years now and for the most part I can’t complain. I love your horses and your fences--both the wooden ones and the stone ones. I love your downtown with the fun bars (putting in one named the penguin was a big plus). I thoroughly enjoy living in a town where I can buy booze, eat at a nice restaurant, and go to the mall.

But, don’t get a big head. You’re not perfect. Your super pollen kills me in the spring and fall. You have a decided lack of good live music venues. And don’t get me started on your traffic problems. Scratch that. Someone needs to point this stuff out and, like any good friend, I’m going to volunteer.

First, let me say that I feel I’ve been very patient with your wonky traffic. I’ve put up with streets that change names three (or four) times. I’ve dealt with the funky light system on Nicholasville Road. And I’ve never said a word about the fact that New Circle can’t seem to decide if it wants to be an expressway or main street. But these days you are really testing my patience.

We all knew that the new hospital was going to require some road work--after all, everything UK does requires digging up some portion of road somewhere--and the randomly changing lane closures on South Limestone during rush hour and basketball game traffic do keep things interesting, but that schtick is getting old. Please finish that stuff up so that I drive over asphalt again and not the giant metal plates you insist on putting down every time you dig a giant hole in the road. It’s killing my shocks and suspension.

Also, I thought you were crazy when you decided to close portions of South Limestone (aka Nicholasville road, aka US 27) for a year. Really? An entire year!?! Is that necessary? Especially when you didn’t start this project bak in May after all the students left, but decided to wait until August, just before they all came back (and just before football season).

I won’t harp on you too much for the Old Frankfort Pike closure, since I’m rarely on that side of town, but it does seem to be a pretty major hassle for those who live up that way (I’m told that people do live on the North side).

And it seems in poor taste to close a large section of Main Street at the same time as both S. Limestone and Old Frankfort Pike/Newtown Pike are closed. Remember when I said one of the things I loved about you was downtown? You are making it really hard for me to get there theses days.

I’ve managed to do okay so far, navigating the continually shifting maze of open/closed intersections and road. Sure, it now takes me 30 minutes to go the 1.5 miles between work and church and getting downtown from Nicholasville road requires an advanced degree in geometry and navigation. But those are minor nuisances compared to what is coming.

Must you really insist on closing Limestone between Cooper and Virginia? That stretch of road is really hard to navigate around, since Cooper is not set up to handle a large volume of traffic and the back roads between Virginia and Cooper are even worse. I will commend you on deciding to do this work over a weekend and not during the week (or on a football game weekend). But, really this is crazy talk. If you insist on doing this, I will have to break up with you. It’s been a good run, but I’m starting to feel like you are pushing me away. Let me know when you decide to let me back in. Until then.....

Your Friend,

Kim