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[This Sports Column appears on page 14 of the July 15 issue of Ace.]
PHOTO COURTESY UK ATHLETICS: Turpin over Shaq
by Heather C. Watson
The 1982-83 Kentucky Wildcats are the first basketball team I can remember.
When you grow up in a basketball family like I did, memories of your team are a part of the family lore. They become a part of the conversation, a way of establishing each member of the family along the team’s timeline—sort of a generational link to the team’s history. Memories of big games or favorite lineups are woven into the family history.
My father recalls being a high school basketball player in ’66, catching the infamous loss to Texas Western over his transistor radio. My brother claims that the Laettner stomp of ’92 is his earliest memory (perhaps a bit of revisionist history, but we’re willing to overlook it for the sake of a great story). My own very first memories of UK basketball include the names Dirk Minniefield, Kenny Walker, Bret Bearup, Dicky Beal, and Melvin Turpin. I was in the early weeks of second grade when Coach Hall’s team began their season with a revolutionary midnight practice session in Memorial Coliseum.
I can remember my daddy and granddaddy analyzing those players’ performance after every game. The conversation around me was so impassioned that it seemed quite important that I form my own opinions. My favorite player, I decided, was Melvin Turpin. Mel wasn’t my favorite because of the SEC scoring records he’d go on to break, but for a far simpler reason: he had a kind face. As a kid who was learning the rules of the game as well as what it meant to be a fan, I simply saw that this was a player that I could look up to.
Several years later, I had the privilege of sitting behind Mel during a UK game. My lower arena tickets at the UGA game were already a fantastic birthday present from my cousin. When we took those seats, however, that present became exponentially better. We were not only sitting behind a bona fide UK star, but behind my favorite player! My 20-something birthday celebration now included an appearance from Melvin Turpin!
Sitting behind the big guy was, perhaps, a little obstructive. He filled the seat in every imaginable sense. Not only was he too tall and too wide for the seat, but his personality filled up the surrounding rows. Everyone in the adjacent area was gawking at the sight of a star Wildcat alumnus. And, truth be told, it was hard to see around him. But, at halftime, I introduced myself by saying “I was a huge fan when I was a kid.” It more than made up for any missed viewing opportunities when Mel was gracious and humble and charming in response. He didn’t have to be so kind to the silly girls who wanted to talk about their own childhood memories of his college sports career. But he was kind, and he confirmed my earliest belief that he was someone to whom I could look up.
Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to meet several Wildcats and to see many more play. I’ve met former players and those currently in uniform. I’ve encountered some players of my own age in social settings, and I’ve sat in Rupp Arena knowing that the player who just scored two points for our team would soon be taking his game to an impressive professional level. But my favorite UK basketball experience will always be the day Melvin Turpin was nice to me on my birthday.
Last Thursday, as I fulfilled an evening obligation, I attempted to surreptitiously check Twitter for a quick update on the LeBron James Media Circus. My feed brought me far sadder news, as I learned the Favorite Player of my youth had passed. In subsequent days, I have studiously avoided the blogosphere and the sports papers. I don’t want to read speculation into the details of Mel’s untimely demise, nor do I want to rehash his NBA years.
I want to hold on to the simple memory that he was my favorite player. I want to remember the kind man who graciously accepted the ridiculous rants of a fan. I want to recall one of the sports legend of my youth.
Goodbye, Mel. You’ll be missed. And you’ll always be my very first Favorite Player.
by: Ace
[This Food column appears on page 13 of the July 15 issue of Ace.]
BY TOM YATES
I’m still patiently waiting for my container vegetable garden to mature and ripen. In the meantime, our Farmers Market is a beacon of summer’s freshness. I strolled downtown early this morning to pick up fresh produce for a gazpacho supper.
Even at that early hour, it was bustling. Dizzying, even. I usually make a couple of passes through the vendors surveying what is available and what looks best. Stall after stall of bursting ripe vegetables. Almost everyone had their samples sliced open to tempt with their juicy insides. Canteloupe, honeydew, and watermelon from an Amish community in western Kentucky. The same Amish community my parents frequented for their produce. There were rows of heirloom tomatoes from Scott, Madison, Jessamine, and Casey counties. Dotted in and through the produce stalls were stands selling fresh local cheeses and meats. The corn is apparently in. Big time! Ears of corn pulled halfway open to reveal their Silver Queen, Peaches and Cream, or Supersweet identities.
The fresh blackberries were huge. Almost the size of my thumb. I wanted to plop several in my mouth with no one looking, but they were looking, of course, so I bought some.
My third pass meant serious business. I needed bulky tomatoes for the juicy base of the soup. As I scoured the stands for not-pretty-but-tasty tomato seconds, I managed to find my favorite farm from Jessamine County selling Big Uglies, as they call them. Big, ugly, and cheap. Score. I picked up purple and green bell peppers that were incredibly fresh. Warm and soft. Flaccid, in a good way.
Assorted cherry tomatoes from Madison County would be the perfect garnish for my market soup. A tri-colored basket of Sungold, Black Cherry, Yellow Pearl, and Orange Grape fit the bill.
Next door, I found fresh picked green-topped purple onions from Scott County along with Candied Onions and garlic. On the other side of the stall, I found tiny cucumbers. Cornichon size. Adorable. Maybe not for gazpacho, but what the hell? Two pints. Just down from the wonderfully smelling omlette station, I found good medium sized cucumbers that appeared very plump and ideal for soup.
My bags were very full with eveything I needed along with some things I didn’t need, but simply had to have.
I made it home with my stash and started mincing, chopping, and peeling everything for the gazpacho.
I took the large Uglies and dropped them into simmering water for 5 seconds to release the skin for peeling, pureed them into juice, and set them aside. I didn’t bother straining the seeds. After finely dicing cucumbers, peppers, onions, and garlic, I pureed half for body and left the remainder for texture. Once I quartered the tri colored tiny tomatoes, I combined everything and seasoned it with kosher salt and cracked black pepper. Olive oil, sherry vinegar, and fresh parsley finished it off. Some recipes call for canned juice. The juice from today’s tomatoes was so pure and sweet, I didn’t even want to mask it. I covered the bowl to refrigerate overnight and blend flavors, but not without having a bowl straight away while it was still warm from the summer sun.
Michael walked into the kitchen and said, “It smells good in here.” And it did. Not from cooking, but from chopping and slicing such fresh market stand produce. The air was perfumed with flavor.
No need for the gazpacho police here. I realize this is not authentic Andalusion gazpacho. I adore the pureed tomato, bread, and garlic version as well as the next person. I wasn’t going for an authentic culinary stroll through the streets of Seville.
I wanted a garden party…..in my mouth.
——-
On Saturday , July 31st the Lexington Farmers’ Market will celebrate their 35th anniversary with the third annual Farm Tour 9am-2pm. That evening, the A Taste of the Farm in the City dinner will showcase recipes from Central Baptist Hospital’s cookbook, “Beyond the Fence: A Culinary Look at Historic Lexington.” Tickets for the dinner are limited and must be purchased by July 26th. The Saturday market will take place as usual in Cheapside Park from 7am-3pm. In celebration of the 35th anniversary, Mayor Newberry will deliver an address at 10am.
by: Ace
Anyone in Kentucky worth their snifter (or mason jar) knows a little something about bourbon. To char the new white oak barrel designed for aging spirits, you set the inside alight until you’ve got a small bonfire busy defacing the white oak, moments away from ash. After the fire’s out, the woodgrain is no longer pure, but the longer the spirits sit, the more complex the resulting bouquet and flavor, the more lusty in color, and the larger the angel’s share. Regardless of how long it sets, bourbon is not bourbon unless it first dwells in something that knows what it means to burn. To be steeped in the “mountain soul” of Sunday Valley is to find yourself a vessel holding onto a slurry of flame.
Many fans of Sunday Valley are notorious for their nigh-ecstatic/berserker fervor during shows. Maybe it’s a combination of heat and sweat rising from bodies clustered at the foot of the stage meeting the waves of heat coming from the instruments and voices under the lights. Whatever the reason, it becomes clear, that much like a tent revival, the spirit will really start to swing the further in the congregation is willing to go. In fact, it’s no surprise to hear someone call out to a friend or stranger, “They’re takin’ me to church!”
This is a dynamic reemergence of the band’s unique timbre which garnered them the title, “The Kings of Cowpunk” and got them voted “The Best Band in Kentucky” in 2007 by Louisville’s Leo Weekly. Now a trio, with Sturgill Simpson on guitar and lead vocals, Gerald Evans on bass and vocals, and Edgar Purdom holding down the drums, the band seems to embrace the concept that change is the nature of the universe and that the more recent changes are positive. Most importantly, as a group of friends first, Simpson feels they’re “doing the only thing that makes sense…trying to make the most honest, heartfelt, and pure music.”
Balancing a full plate of shows throughout the state and with a new “top secret” album in the works due out late summer/early fall, Simpson is enthusiastic about what Sunday Valley has to offer audiences, “In terms of musical development, we’re still exploring and are nowhere near exhausting the sonic limits of the unit. As a songwriter, it couldn’t be more exciting because I’m learning more everyday how much freedom we have to go wherever we want. Being a three piece allows us to focus on the rhythmic structure of the songs and our sound and to play around with dynamics on an extreme scale.”
And if what’s being cooked up in the studio reflects what’s been happening onstage lately, “The audience can expect things to get much darker as we’ve strayed away from the now saturated honky-tonk based Country and have been really digging in and developed a sound based much heavier on the music in my heart, which is Appalachian Blues, Bluegrass, and traditional mountain string music. There’s a certain dread and forlornness in the music that I feel translates to modern times and the general state of uncertainty in the world. I think the record will serve as a raw introduction and claiming stamp on the Sunday Valley sound.”
Much like the altered barrels that turn an unrefined liquid into something worth sharing, the more you listen, the more you find that you are able to hold, though your most vital organs be scorched to char, your blood thinning to resin. On Saturday, July 3rd, Sunday Valley will be scorching organs next at Buster’s, the first in a lineup of upcoming gigs this month, including the particularly promising July 24th show at Cosmic Charlie’s with the “Dancing Outlaw,” himself, Jesco White. Simpson wishes clarity for the people planning to come through, “If they take away anything, it will be something to hopefully believe in, being that so much music today, especially country and its retro novelty acts, are based on a postured persona with no real emotional content in the songs….”
And ultimately, he wishes what any musician worth his instrument could wish most for a crowd, “Ideally, someday we’d love to look out at a room full of people rocking their asses off and crying at the same time.”
So come this weekend, try not to flinch when Sunday Valley leaves anyone in hearing range breathless, pulses popping through temples, palms, soles, and throats plain wore out. ‘Cause you won’t be put out until you’re fully cured.
Next show:
July 3 Buster’s Billiards and Backroom w/The Sundresses
Doors at 8, Show at 10, $7,18+
For upcoming dates log on to: http://www.myspace.com/sundayvalley.
Also, stay posted on Facebook through the Sunday Valley Official Fan Page.
(Photo by Richie Wireman)
by: Bianca Spriggs
—from tread
If you are a Central Kentuckian, and you picked up the newspaper, turned on the local news, logged on to your facebook or Twitter account, then you know now that the New York Times and ESPN.com have been looking into the high school career of NBA-bound, former UK guard Eric Bledsoe.
Their investigative stories are based upon the fact that the NCAA has also been exploring Bledsoe’s path to college. The stories and follow-ups are available all over the web—go read them. In a nutshell, Eric Bledsoe, for his first three years in high school was a “D” student. He transferred schools, out of district, after his high school closed—to play basketball for a controversial Birmingham, Alabama high school coach. The coach claims he had one goal with Bledsoe, to get him eligible for a college basketball career by injecting some discipline and placing expectations on him. Real Hollywood-style story, right Ms. Bullock?
But the NYT story quotes a landlord who is still owed $3200 back rent who says this same coach was paying for the $400 a month apartment that Bledsoe and his mother moved into, in order for him to be in the right school district. The move out of district was investigated and cleared by state athletic authorities. The real meat of the investigation seems to stem from the jump from bad student to good student in one year at his new school. You see, major colleges had been calling back in Bledsoe’s junior year at his old school, but it didn’t take long for all the grown men in the shady world of recruiting to find out that this kid might not have the grades to play college basketball. Bledsoe’s old coach seemed to guard his transcripts as best he could if you believe what he is quoted as saying. The NYT article used terms as dire as “improbable” that Bledsoe could get his grades up enough on his own to be eligible for a D1 basketball program. It’s safe to say, that isn’t really the case, at the risk of being crass, I gotta believe a Birmingham high school “A” couldn’t be that hard to garner for a kid whose future was on the line. The NYT article floats back and forth between salacious comments about Bledsoe’s mother’s employment in an adult bookstore and sympathy for a kid that was being tugged by many. The story also quotes an unnamed coach who claims to have been asked for money by the ol’ ball coach in order to get a letter of intent signed by Bledsoe. By the way, the hard-to-see transcripts of Bledsoe’s grades have been viewed by both media outlets covering the investigation. So, someone leaked them or just handed them over.
So we got money, grades, transfers…and of course, the NCAA, John Calipari, Memphis, UK and ultimately a jump to the NBA after one season. All these elements make for a great story if you are a sports journalist. It has been rumored that this story was going to break for months. There has been rampant speculation that many involved in the big sports media markets, the North East variety, are dying to get some dirt to bring down Calipari.
The timing of this story is also interesting for a UK fan. The story broke, coinciding with the story of improprieties in the UConn men’s basketball program. Pay attention kids: ESPN offices are located in Connecticut and there’s no shortage for UConn fandom in the New York metropolitan area. It’s not paranoid to smell a little “look they are all doing it” journalism to ease the blow to the home team being called in on the rug. But you can speculate on that, you got the story, I can’t hate on you running with it. Worth noting though, the NCAA Eligibility Center validated basketball player Eric Bledsoe’s academic eligibility but that wasn’t reported at press time.
Now, I spent the better part of last fall and winter happily dismissing the naysayers of Coach Cal as jealous of the tradition of UK basketball returning. I still hold true to my assessment, it’s okay to be hated again, but this story has made me think more about the system that kids like Eric Bledsoe and any number of poor but gifted athletes must navigate from ages 14-18. I think it might be time to call for change. Perhaps we should look into the current college sports model and look for a better way of doing things.
The current system, one orchestrated by rules created and governed for the most part by the NCAA. Under the guise of furthering a high student’s education as athlete on scholarship. The NCAA, this past year got a bit richer, signing a new contract with CBS Sports and Turner Sports for $10.8 billion dollars over 14 years. This contract is a 41 percent increase over the mammoth deal the NCAA signed back in 2001. The NCAA is expanding the tournament field to 68 teams, from the original 65. Keep in mind; this is not the total annual revenue for the NCAA. Instead, this whopping amount of cash represents the television rights to air March Madness each year. Put that together with another $55 million from ESPN for women’s and other championship broadcasts on the tube, throw that in along with marketing revenue for shirts, hats, flip-flops, flags and all of the other league-sanctioned ephemera and I think I can traipse out on a limb and say that the NCAA is making money. Gobs of it.
Now, if you are free market thinker, I’m not so much of one—but say you are—then you can say the NCAA has a product that is highly sought after; therefore they should be reimbursed for this product. I’ll give you that. We have to also justify that coaches who deliver teams to this high level of competition should be reimbursed with salaries that reflect the value of the product. Administrations and schools should be able to build new facilities both athletic and academic with proceeds from these teams and use these facilities as calling cards for recruiting more students to campus. Just makes sense doesn’t it? But I have to ask the question, if everyone is privy to their fair share of all of this money within the system, how do we, with good conscience, deny these student-athletes and their families a portion of this giant chunk of change? Do you honestly believe that a scholarship is worth the trade of millions of dollars in human capital that is being sold in the free market without the athlete being able to take part in that sale? Sold for premium price are the images of athletes on videogames, billboards, jerseys and television commercials, yet in some cases, the athlete’s mom is sitting at home in a housing project or in this case still owing $3200 in back rent to a crappy apartment in Birmingham.
Listen to me, a college scholarship, which is really a year-to-year employment contract, is not of equal value to what the typical Division-I NCAA player in a revenue-generating sport is relenting to the system he is working for. Yes, I said working for. You have to ask yourself, would you put in the work that a student athlete at this high level must put in for 25 grand a year? I’m not saying they aren’t spoiled within the system, I’m not saying that it’s not a blast to play a game in exchange for an education but once we pick the scab of “who paid for what” in a college player’s past then we have to bleed out of this romantic notion of big man on campus and amateur athletics and think about what this big man might be bringing to the bottom line. Without the big man on campus the monolithic revenue stream is but a trickle. You have to remember, you might pay $75 for that ticket to a game to cheer him on but if you buy him and his friends a pizza afterward you might cost him his scholarship. The NCAA wouldn’t want the cash exchanged in college sports to end up anywhere other than their own system-stitched pockets.
It’s time to seriously consider a different set of rules than the ones in place by this mysterious entity known as the NCAA. This system has grown archaic, it’s using kids, many of which with few options other than to be manipulated and used by those with much to gain and little to lose as long as they continue to deliver quality grist for the mill of school-colored jerseys and pompoms. When asked why he was coming to UK, Bledsoe infamously muttered, “to get shit right.” We are all complicit as fans, we have to ask for better, we need to get shit right. If we love the notion of amateur sports and amateurs competing for the love of the game maybe we should hang out more at under-11 soccer games.
by: Ace
UPDATE: Right before I was ready to post this, Coach Cal sent out the following tweet: I want to address this with the Big Blue Nation one last time, I will be coaching at Kentucky next year. Now let’s finish what we started.
The fact that LeBron James and the Cleveland Cavaliers lost to the Boston Celtics last night should really only matter to UK fans because UK’s own Rajon Rondo proved himself to be the best player on the Celtics, and for a majority of the series, the most difficult to guard player on the court. But, LBJ’s loss means a crazy summer for UK fans, because where LBJ goes, our very own Coach John Calipari may follow.
Yes, I know, he has stated before that he is happy at UK and that he loves the job and everything else, but we are talking about LeBron James and a chance to be the Phil Jackson to LBJ’s Michael Jordan. The connections between Cal and LBJ run deep, but are primarily centered on Agent Leon Rose and International Man of Mystery William Wesley (AKA World Wide Wes). Gary Parrish of CBS Sportsline has a nice blog post about it here, but the word amongst everyone in the national media is that if Cal is offered the chance to coach LBJ than he is gone.
So, as UK fans, what do we need to know? The best situation for UK fans is for LBJ to become a New York Knick. The Knicks have a coach, Mike D’Antoni, who was hired with the idea that his fun and uptempo style would appeal to LBJ and other NBA free agents. This is the best case scenario for UK fans. If any UK fans are out there with time on their hands, they need to start a website dedicated to bringing LBJ to NYC. LBJ to the Knicks means everything stays great in Wildcat Country. All the recruits show up, the 2011 class grows larger and more impressive (that’s what she said), and local stores don’t have to start discounting Coach Cal t-shirts.
The worst situation, in my opinion, is if LBJ goes to the Chicago Bulls. Derrick Rose and Joakim Noah (and yes, we all still hate him) provide an attractive already there supporting cast for LBJ and Rose’s presence would also entice Cal. Rose + LBJ would make it almost impossible for Cal to say know if offered. And he would almost certainly be offered. Teams going after LBJ know he likes Cal and LBJ is going to be in a position to call a lot shots.
The other two choices are New Jersey and staying in Cleveland. Either one of those would also be attractive, but I have a hard time seeing LBJ go to NJ or Cal returning to NJ. Cleveland would be interesting, but I think they will fire the GM first and the new GM may want his own guy as coach.
The key to any of this is whether the team in question would want Cal and that is no guarantee. He does not have a stellar NBA record and his national reputation is built around his ability to recruit, not coach. There are not a lot of coaches who would turn down a chance to coach LBJ, and NBA veterans (and proven winners) like Avery Johnson, Jeff Van Gundy, or even Phil Jackson might be more attractive.
If Cal leaves, the question becomes, what will happen at UK? It is difficult to hire a coach in May/June and I believe there will be a lot of pressure on AD Mitch Barnhart to hire someone who will be ready to make this job permanent. This points to former UK PG Travis Ford, currently the head coach at Oklahoma State. He would be a solid, if not spectacular choice. My guess is that this current recruiting class would lose Brandon Knight, but keep everyone else. The 2011 class would be gone, because they Marquis Teague and Michael Gilchrist were coming to UK to play for Cal. My dark horse candidate would be the aforementioned D’Antoni. If the Knicks lose out on LBJ, he may be ready to move on, considering their poor record the past couple of seasons. He would bring a fun, uptempo style and future PGs would have to look no further than two time MVP Steve Nash for how well the style suits a talented guard.
No question, losing Cal after one season would hurt. The chaos that we all went through last spring/summer with players leaving/going would repeat itself and the future would be incredibly cloudy. That being said, UK is UK and while the team might stumble at first I feel confident UK can avoid becoming the debacle that is now Indiana University basketball. That being said, I think I speak for most UK fans when I say, Let’s Go Knicks!!!
by: Kevin Faris
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