More than a Game: Kentucky Football Provides the Most Precious Gift

There was a buzz in the air Saturday at Kroger Field. Even as an “unbiased journalist,” those nervous feelings are unavoidable before a big Kentucky football game. This time, the stakes were even higher, and the uncertainty was crippling.

No, I was not worried about how the Kentucky secondary would contain Austin Simmons and Lane Kiffin‘s prolific passing attack. There were more pressing matters at hand. It was my son’s first Kentucky football game.

The Roushes are on a recent run of firsts. My 5-year-old started Kindergarten in August, and in that time, Duke has already become a little grown man (Yes, I named my son Duke. Long story short, it’s a family name tied to a badass, so chill.) That’s one rite of passage, but a Kentucky football game? That’s a whole other deal, for multiple reasons.

Roushes have been regularly attending Kentucky football games since Stoll Field was the home of the Wildcats. My grandfather, Tubby, did not let visitors to his house wear orange because he was a man of principle who (rightfully) despised Tennessee. He had season tickets when Commonwealth Stadium opened in 1973, and we sat in those seats on the 25th row of section 226 for decades.

I was my son’s age when I first got to sit in those seats. The Cats lost, but I got to give the mascot a high-five. A year later, I stopped in my tracks when I saw a mummy sitting on top of a chair, on top of a car in the grassy lots on the southeast side of the stadium. Did I remember that Kentucky beat Louisville? No, but I will never forget Hal Mumme’s first game. A month later, my parents snuck me into Commonwealth Stadium and let me stay up wait to watch Tim Couch connect with Craig Yeast in overtime to beat Alabama. I asked my Mother, “Can I go touch the goalposts?”

Those core memories created an addiction to Kentucky football. It wasn’t just because I liked football. The oldest in a family of four, this was my chance to be the Big Brother who got to spend one-on-one time with his parents, even if for a good chunk of that time, my Dad was listening to Tom Leach on his rabbit ears.

Another Important Wrinkle

A normal person would not be nervous to take their kid to a game, they would be excited. Well, this isn’t a normal situation.

The Roush House is divided. My wife was an all-conference volleyball player from Louisville. My Dad and I were wise enough to teach Duke, “Go Wildcats!” almost as soon as he could talk, but soon there after, he independently chose to cheer for the Cardinal Birds.

I’m the Kentucky football guy. I can’t let my household be dominated by Cardinal Birds.

This was the opportunity to wedge a foot in the door and help Duke fall in love with the Kentucky Wildcats. A 3:30 kickoff on a beautiful day for a big game created the perfect storm. Then I arrived to Kroger Field and cold rain was falling.

Oh no. This could go badly.

Fortunately, it was anything but that. Duke was excited to wear one of my oversized UK hats. That excitement was amplified when a kiosk handed out “Go Cats” stickers for eye black and Wildcat temporary tattoos.

“Dad, am I gonna be on TV?” YouTube will have to suffice.

The Wild Cats in the Cradle

The other wrinkle in this situation is that I can’t share my passion with my kids. When the Wildcats are playing, I’m working. It’s easy to connect the dots that lead them down a path where they associate Kentucky football with an absent father.

This was the first time I got to actually show him what Daddy does every Saturday. Evan Crane from UK’s SID office was kind enough to create a press pass for my son. Thanks to another suggestion from our friends at KSBar, he brought his small digital camera. I took him up to the pressbox, and he was eager to zoom in and take photos of the field, even more excited than when I snagged a sugar cookie from the buffet line.

My worst fears never surfaced. He loved the fireworks, but that wasn’t his favorite part of the game. It was the Dipping Dots.

The outcome did not matter on Saturday. Three generations of Roushes got to watch a Kentucky football game at Kroger Field. That’s a win. I did not understand how big of a win it was until a few days later.

“Dad, when I grow up I want to be a writer,” Duke told me on Wednesday.

“Really? That would be cool,” I replied.

“Yeah, then we can go to football games and watch the Wildcats together.”

Nothing in the world can make me happier than watching Kentucky football with the ones I love.