I’m living in a camper.
Due to circumstances concerning my now former relationship with my now former fiancee, I am quasi-homeless. Therefore, any semblance of a routine I had has been scattered all over Hell and half of Georgia. As a result, you’ll be on the receiving end of a quasi-unintelligible post. Have fun. Hope you drank some coffee this morning.
Instead of generic analysis of stuff I’ve been too out of the loop to study for the last week and a half, let’s do an etiquette list for how you, Big Blue Nation, should conduct yourselves should you be in the Yum? Center tonight at 6:50. After all, Kentucky fans are known for traveling well, and this is no different, even if many of you made the trip without having to book a hotel room.
So that begs the question: how should you behave in public, especially when said public is the home floor of the hated Louisville Cardinals?
Well, for starters, DON’T get drunk and act belligerent. Just because the Yum^ Center is a Big East arena, there’s no reason to act like Bob Huggins. Although, since Iowa State plays right after Kentucky, it would make for a nice tribute to former Cyclones coach Larry Eustachy, who couldn’t make the trip because the Pi Beta Phis at SMU are throwing a sweet mixer at Benny’s Boom Boom Room in Hattiesburg. So be cool.
Also, DON’T insult the men’s room attendant. Jerry Smith can’t help it that his life took the turn it did. Just let him give you a little squirt of soap and a paper towel, and put a dollar in his jar. No sense in being a jerk about it.
DON’T make eye contact with the WKU mascot. Despite the outward cuddly appearance, Big Red will snatch away your soul and feed it to his children. Big Red is not to be messed with. The last guy who was caught staring had his eyes soldered shut. But it wasn’t all bad; he was able to get a job as an SEC referee.
Thankfully, this list isn’t entirely constrictive. In fact, here are some things you are encouraged to do.
DO tip Jerry Smith extra if he offers you a stick of gum. Seriously. Those spinners for his Festiva ain’t gonna buy themselves.
DO admire the beauty of the Yum% Center. But try to avoid the easy joke of asking the food counter worker if she has chicken breasts.
DO feel free to give Brett Dawson a wedgie if you see him. He’ll be the guy looking around nervously the whole time, afraid I’m gonna sneak up and hit him with a gym sock full of rocks.
And finally, DO stay off of Jim Calhoun’s lawn. He’s sick and tired of you punk kids, with your cellular telephones and motorized cars, making a bunch of noise and getting his cats all finicky-acting. Jim Calhoun is old, is what I’m saying.
Cats all the way, 87-59.
