Hello, friends. I hope you’re well. Did you get that thing I sent you on email? You didn’t? I could have sworn I wrote your email address down correctly. Is it still — let’s see — [email protected]
? Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll send it to your work address instead.
Friends, as we all know, tonight is a monumental night — the night our beloved Cayts take the floor as a unified team for the first time. After tonight, gone will be the anticipation of seeing how these guys work together and how they look, because tonight’s Big Blue Madness features our new rookies and old favorites taking the stage to the adoration of the Big Blue Nation. It’s sure to be a smashing time indeed. Big Blue Madness is always special to everyone involved — from the coaches to the players to the fans — even though often the experience can differ depending upon which perspective from which you’re looking at the event. So today, just for fun, let’s take a look at how BBM will look from a few different perspectives tonight in a piece we’ll call Perspectives on Big Blue Madness
, shall we? This is exactly how it will be. Don’t argue with me. I assure you this is precisely what the event will look like to you if you’re:
A Freshman Player:
You’ll suit up in the blue and white, naturally a little nervous, and stand along the floor as you wait for your name to be announced. As you hear your name announced in Rupp for the first time, you’ll stride onto the court to the deafening roar of your new fans, a maelstrom of unconditional support for the upcoming season. Your teammates welcome you into the circle (have some signature dance or move ready!) and you officially begin your season as an illustrious Kentucky Wildcat.
A Returning Player:
Coasting on the buzz from last April’s championship, you take the court with your new comrades to duplicate the magic of last year, seeing how these younger players handle the ball and growing increasingly excited about the prospects of a return to the tropy.
A Concession Stand Worker:
You tell five people in a row you’re out of peanut M&Ms as the introductions begin. Then you think you hear the muffled announcement of Alex Poythress as you refill a nacho cheese dispenser and quietly resent the people standing in the line waiting for food.
A Fan (rafters):
Sure, you were late in line to get your Madness tix, but that doesn’t matter. You spend the opening introductions secretly worried about how close the sparks seem to your seats, as you’re on eye-level with them, but you never indicate that. Then you spend the entire practice asking the person sitting next to you “Who was that?” because you can’t see that far. That person doesn’t know either.
A Fan (sixty-plus):
Decked out in your best UK sweater, you arrive early to beat the crowd and sit quietly with your purse in your lap. This music is too loud
, you think to yourself as you unwrap another stick of spearmint gum, and I don’t understand why this has to be so late.
You wonder what you’re missing on Blue Bloods
and hope your college-aged grandson isn’t making a fool of himself in the Erupption Zone like those other kids. What would their parents say?
A Fan (student):
After facebooking a picture of yourself on Spotify you look through your Instagram account to see if someone has twittered where the next bubble-foam rave is going to be. You yell about how great the Black Keys are as practice begins and you drink your vodka and kool-aid you mixed in a concession stand cup in the bathroom and wonder how you’re going to score some drug cigarettes after the event. Then you cheer for the players as you’re apathetic about the government.
You tell Nicki Minaj to pipe down as you turn up Big Blue Madness on your 150-inch television, stare at your championship ring and toss a custom-made $1700 diamond-encrusted throwing star into a photo of Chris Brown while sipping a snifter of limited-edition Remy Martin infused with baby giraffe tears.
You sit at home quietly wondering where everything went wrong. Then you fall asleep on the hardwood floor behind the couch before practice, your last thoughts being that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drink a shot whenever someone said “Kentucky.”