Whenever an outsider asks me to try and explain the significance of basketball in the state of Kentucky, there’s always one story that pops into my head before any other gets there.
I was working at a law firm downtown in 2009, and on this particular day I was watching the front desk while the receptionist took a break. A family of three — a mother, a father and a young boy — were waiting to meet with one of the attorneys.
After 30 seconds or so of silence, the mother, in as stereotypical a Southern drawl as you can imagine, spoke up.
“How do y’all like your new player?”
I had never met this woman, nor had I met either of the family members she was sitting next to. I was wearing khaki pants and a button-down shirt, nothing which would give away anything about who I am or what I enjoy. She was wearing jeans and a blouse, and the same thing held true for her. Given the circumstances, it was about as insane an opening line as you could ever deliver to a stranger.
Except I knew exactly what and who she was talking about.
Justice, who would go on to win a state title at Shelby Valley and be named Kentucky’s Mr. Basketball later that year, had committed to walk-on at Louisville a week earlier. The woman explained that she and her family were from Pikeville and that they had watched Justice play since he was a little boy. We talked basketball for a good five minutes before the family was finally called back for their meeting.
As she began to walk away, the woman had one last thing she had to get out.
“We’ll be rooting for y’all and Elisha now, you know, except for on that day.”
There is nowhere else in the world where this happens. This woman had no idea that I was a Louisville fan or that I even knew the slightest thing about basketball, and yet she was still confident enough in the likelihood of both facts that she deemed it appropriate to ask just about the most vague question possible to a complete stranger. And naturally, her confidence was validated.
This is Kentucky. This is the place where, unless otherwise specified, every single conversation about sports is assumed to be centered around either U of L basketball or UK basketball…or both, of course. Only it’s typically not nearly as pleasant as that 2009 exchange.
The use of “hate” is excessive in almost any context, especially when we’re talking about sports, but the Battle of the Bluegrass brings utilization of the word closer to the edge of appropriateness than any other.
The dialysis center fight.
T-Will vs. Ramel Bradley.
Boo Brewer tossing Sean Woods over his shoulder.
John Calipari trying to fight Reggie Delk.
Rick Pitino giving the bird to the fans at Rupp.
Pitino and Calipari’s prolonged off-court war of words.
Nate Johnson vs. Jamal Magloire.
Eddie Sutton coining the “little brother” nickname for Louisville.
DeMarcus Cousins trying to murder Jared Swopshire.
Denny Crum calling out Kentucky’s refusal to play.
Mark Pope and Pat Kelsey’s recruiting dust-up.
True fans on either side don’t need further description when it comes to any of these.
Two programs with rich histories. Two fan bases that care about this as much as any others. An area of the country that has been obsessed with basketball for about as long as basketball has been a thing.
On the surface, Louisville-Kentucky has everything you could ever want in a rivalry. There’s only one thing missing, and we’re going to have to talk about it.
Louisville doesn’t beat Kentucky nearly enough.
I don’t have to throw out the numbers. You know them. They sting.
Louisville doesn’t beat Kentucky nearly enough.
“The rivalry in this state is awesome, man,” Kelsey said last month. “It’s what college basketball is all about. Rivalries are rivalries because one team wins sometimes and the other team wins sometimes. We got to start doing our part. I get that.”
If he didn’t get it a year ago, he certainly does now.
In the first year of the “Kelsey vs. Pope” era of the rivalry we saw a 90-81 Kentucky victory in Lexington where there was a skirmish on the U of L bench, UK’s Brandon Harrison throwing a forearm into the back of Chucky Hepburn’s head, and a postgame celebration that saw Wildcat players throwing L’s down at midcourt to a frenzied Rupp Arena crowd.
Despite a handful of close calls, Louisville has beaten Kentucky just three times since the school hired John Calipari in 2009. All three of those wins came at home, all three of them came by three points, and just one of them came against a Wildcat team that would go on to make the NCAA Tournament.
Ask 10 college basketball fans in the Commonwealth about the reason for UK’s recent dominance in the rivalry series, and you’re liable to get 10 different answers. Some credit the fact that Kentucky’s perennially young roster (in the Calipari days) didn’t know enough about the rivalry to tighten up, you’ll also talk to people who will claim that the game is officiated differently, and even more who will note that, more times than not, the Wildcats have simply fielded a better team than the Cardinals.
Whatever the reason (or reasons) the fact of the matter is that Kentucky’s dominance of Louisville over the last two decades has both driven Cardinal fans insane and held the rivalry back.
“It’s hard to truly describe how much this rivalry means,” Kelsey said after last year’s loss. “They reminded me early and often and every single day. Every time I get gas, every time I get something to eat in the community it’s: ‘Hey coach, how you doin’? You gonna beat Kentucky this year?‘ So I get it.
“It’s 365 days or whatever it is until the next time we play again, and I’m gonna be reminded about 4 million times when that game’s comin’ up. I can promise you, I want to win it more than anybody.”
When you’re taking the reigns at a program with more history than 98% of the 364 other teams in the sport, it’s rare that you have an opportunity to do something that hasn’t been done before you. That’s doubly true when two of your predecessors are national championship-winning coaches enshrined in the Basketball Hall of Fame.
But Kelsey has an opportunity at U of L to do something that Rick Pitino and even Denny Crum could never accomplish: Beat Kentucky on a consistent basis.
While Crum was the driving force behind the resumption of the rivalry in the 1980s, he still managed just seven wins in 20 tries against Kentucky, and never beat the Wildcats twice in a row.
Pitino also started strong and then struggled, going 6-12 against his former school while at U of L, including 2-8 against his arch-nemesis, Calipari.
No rivalry embodies the notion of “passion bordering on insanity” more than this one. No coach fits that same description better than Kelsey.
He revived the program after a period of historic ruin. Now he’ll try to do the same with Louisville’s struggles against its most hated rival.
Maybe, just maybe, this is a match made in Heaven.
