For the past 5 years, my wife and I have had a Buick Rendezvous.  She bought it new before we got married, and may have been swayed into the buy because I thought it would be cool to have a car that Tiger Woods endorsed.  This made the incident on Thanksgiving last year even worse for me, why was he not driving badly in a Rendezvous?  Who cares about the mistresses, does he not support the company’s he is paid by? I better change the subject before I rip off this red Nike Dry Fit like I am Hulk Hogan preparing for Andre at Wrestlemania.

Last week, after a series of “nickel and Diming” repairs that we incurred  over the past couple of months, we  decided to run the Rendezvous off the Boonesborough bridge over the Kentucky River and get money from our insurance company for a new car, not really, but if I had my druthers, it is what would have happened.  We actually just started the process of finding a new car. After several test drives, several talks with completely creepy car salesman, and several arguments between husband and wife, we made our decision.  Before I go on, if you are a car salesman, god love ya, but is it some sort of law that I am not aware of that instructs all salesman to be evasive and weird?  Can you prohibited to answer my questions directly? I also don’t need you to call me 28 times after I leave the lot, to ask me what I am doing or if I had thought about coming back to the lot.  If I want to come back to your lot, I will come back to your lot.  Bugging the heck out of me is not the way to sell me anything homie.

So, we found a car we love, it may or may not be a Toyota, and have nearly locked down the purchase. We were told that it would be delivered to the store yesterday, because the exact color and whatever else we wanted on it was not available on their lot. I was off work yesterday and after I spoke with the salesman that sold us the car yesterday morning, he made it sound like the car would be there late in the afternoon sometime and we could pick it up.  Is there anything more exciting than getting a new car?  Is there anything more American than getting a new car?  I had the  whole thing planned out; go to lunch at Harry’s, go to Best Buy and get the new Eminem album to bang out of my new speakers, then sit in my drive way and play with the car until midnight. If only it was that easy…

My wife invited one of our friends to go with us, and after the salesman told me the car would be ready late afternoon we headed towards Lexington. First stop, Harry’s patio, for some mini burgers. About 15 minutes after we sat down to eat, a crack of thunder loud enough to break glass echoed through Hamburg and nearly caused me to perform the Heimlich maneuver on our friend Katy after she took a drink of water or something. Seconds later there is hurricane force winds and torrential rain, not ideal patio weather. We are now moving quickly into the building with plates and drinks in hand to avoid drowning. The rain did not let up for a while, and after our meal, we were severely drenched on the way to the car. The guys at the car dealership had not called to let us know the car was there and ready, so, it gave me time to head over and grab the “Recovery” CD, Eminem’s newest brilliant musical offering. “Relapse”, Marshall’s last record was the only record he has ever released that I felt was disappointing, but I felt confident he would not let me down again, and I was right. If you don’t have it, go get it immediately. After I got the damn CD case open, damn that wrapper, I popped it in only to have Katy tell me she hates Eminem after about 4 minutes. This prevented me from letting it bang the way it deserves to bang. Then we head over to the Toyota dealership, only to be told by the salesman that due to the storms that the car was going to be a bit delayed in arriving and it was going to be another hour and a half. After a trip to Cold Stone for ice cream for the girls, a trip to the mall to look for some shoes for Katy, and another trip back to the dealer I found out the car was going to be another hour or so from being delivered. I just went shoe shopping with 2 girls for an hour, and I am not going to get a car out of the deal? You have no idea how badly I wanted to tell the creep salesman that.  Bottom line, come back after work tomorrow, it SHOULD be ready then.  Not exactly the day off I was looking forward to when I woke up.  holla!

Due to Richardson having to get his annual memorial weekend Brazilian wax and his hair did, there will not be any morning links.  Instead, I bring you this piece of brilliance!  Warning!  Some offensive and hysterically funny language is involved with this video…

This must be the craziest story I have ever heard. No, scratch that, anybody has ever heard. I am not even going to regurgitate what the article says because it’s worth the read…..

Formulate your own opinions, I am still in awe as to how this could be.

For all you students out there we know this week can be tough. You have 3 finals this week. All of them are late in the week and all your roommates are leaving Lexington by then and you are responsible for cleaning your apartment before head back home too…. This in most instances always sucks. It always killed me why in the world would you schedule finals the week after Derby? Seriously. Why not make them before Derby weekend, that way Derby acts as the big celebration? I still don’t get it but I don’t have to worry about tests any more….

You know finals are in the air when partying dies down and the dreadful studying begins. For some of you this is the first time all semester that you have hunkered down and gotten serious about your studies. You finally break down and buy that Sociology 301 book because you have put it off until you “really needed it”. You come up with a plan to tackle the material and plot it out like a crazy.

Wednesday evening you have to begin studying at 7 pm for your Thursday 8am test. You are heading to the Johnson Center for 2 hours of bball because the pickup games are best during finals week and you want to get those last few games in before you head back home for the summer. You’ve hit Kroger up for some soft drinks already, most likely Ale-8 and purchased coffee for the first time in your life to keep you “pumped” full of caffeine for the all-nighter your about to pull.

Wed. rolls around, you hit the gym but don’t get home till 8 because you “were winning” and didn’t want to give up the court. You were pretty hungry so you cleaned up and made a pit-stop at Kroger to grab something to throw on the grill. While you were in aisle 20 you see the beer chiller and your favorite ice cold beverage and can’t pass up the sight of a 12-pack of Natty Light for $6.99. You make it home to find your roommate had come back from Louisville and invited friends over to play cornhole and drink because their finals are done and its time to party. You say to yourself “it’s ok to have a few, besides, I have till 8 am.”

Midnight rolls around as you lock yourself in your room, turn on the pot of coffee, because coffee on top of beer is a good idea, and get to studying…..

Look, in reality, it’s not that bad! You have nothing to do all week but study for a couple finals. Yet, you are mad that summer couldn’t begin soon enough. You wait until the last minute to cram for a test you have no business taking. Your jealousy over the roomy with a photographic memory that can read it once and ace a test, whom is done with their school, shouldn’t get in the way of the fact this is your test, your education.

So, suck it up fat boy. It’s not that hard. Besides, you have the whole summer to do absolutely nothing. Must be nice.

There are few better days to be a Kentuckian, not UK related, than the first Saturday in May. It is bred in all Kentuckians to love thoroughbreds, gambling, and a damn good party.  I have been lucky enough to have attended 3 Derby’s in person, 2 in the infield at Churchill and once out in the tents on the first turn.  The two experiences in the infield were two of the most unbelievable experiences of my life, and not for all the right reasons.  Some of the things I witnessed, and some of the things I participated in, even I would not write about. I know that the infield for the Derby is on a lot of folks ‘bucket list’, but if you are someone who considers yourself to be a fairly classy and upstanding citizen, I would stay away.  Just mark it off, and retain your integrity.

In the past few years, I have resorted to the “Home” Derby party. I have had a few at my house, my in-laws have had a couple at their house, and last year my brother and sister in law had one in their sparkling new basement. No matter the location, the parties basically involve the same types of activities, heavy eating, heavy drinking, and heavy gambling, what could possibly go wrong, right?

Here is an over view of a normal Kentucky Derby party, in my world…

• You invite everyone you know that enjoys at least one of the following: eating, drinking, or gambling. This involves most everyone you know, except the weird old woman down the street that seems to be scared of her  own shadow, and that will call the authorities at the drop of a hat if one of your guests wonders to close to her house to relieve themselves.

• You make it very clear that the party will be BYOB, even though you will have some extra brews and bourbon in stock. Your friends abide by this and bring their own drink, but manage to finish off your bottle/beers before they get into their own.  If they are full before they get to theirs, they do not hesitate to take theirs home with them when they leave.

• You don’t always ask folks to bring any food, but you also don’t tell them not to, if they insist. Pot Lucks normally creep me out, but once I am loaded, I will eat anything.  It seems like the guy who insists he is bringing something, normally shows up with a pack of beef jerky that he walks around the party with asking people to try. If you don’t take a piece, and tell him how good it is, he will stand their explaining why it is good and you are wrong for at least 20 minutes.

• On Derby day everyone becomes a gambler.  Everyone has a tip on a horse, everybody has a strategy, and everybody is dead broke. My in-laws have introduced me to grid bets.  You can buy squares on a grid, similar to a multiplication table.  Boxes normally cost either $2 or $5 a square.  It is always a struggle to sell all of the squares, and it never fails that someone breaks out a check book.

• Gambling fever goes on through out the day.  My wife and I set up a twinspires.com account online to bet on races all day long from the Downs. When people figure out that this is going on, they want some action too. After a while, you have 10 people around you while you are on the computer, and everyone is yelling numbers at you.  No one ever seems to win when they use your account, and when they hand you a fist full of $1 bills (they cashed in about 53 $1 lottery tickets on the way to your house), it always feels like you are being screwed somehow.

• Derby quickly turns into a long day when you have a house full of drunken idiots, including yourself. While moving around your house, you find different pockets of people you had no idea were there. After they tell you that they love your 4-wheeler, and compliment you on how nice it rides, you figure out someone has had your Rhino out of the garage and you instantly become enraged. When you peek into the garage and your prized possession is gone again, you ponder clearing out the entire party and having everyone leave.  The only reason you don’t?  You are told it is your wife that is giving everyone rides.

• By the time the actual Derby goes off, your house is no more than an insane asylum. 4 of your most over weight friends have their shirts off and are belly to belly in the back yard, arguing over a corn hole game. One of your wife’s friends, the one with kids, has her yard apes over by the pond letting them wing rocks at the ducks and swans. One of your cousins has taken one of the grid sheets to the old lady’s house down the street to try and finish off the boxes, the only problem is that he also has a fifth of makers and his pet albino snake around his neck. A couple of your buddies have dared another friend to chug the barbecue sauce out of the crock pot that once held the cocktail wieners, after he vomits, your kitchen counter, your stove, and  your miniature wiener dog are covered in brown sludge.  The 2 guys now dare someone else to lick the sauce off your poor dog. Your mother in law has asked you 20 times what race the Derby is and you say you don’t know19 times, but the last time you say something that will scar your relationship forever.

• Finally, the race is about to start, and the traditional singing of My Old’ Kentucky home is about to begin. People are stumbling around to find their beers, a seat, or whatever else makes plenty of noise and forbids you to hear the song played. Everyone is grabbing for their pieces of paper with a horses name on it they have drawn out of a hat, so that they will know who to cheer for. Once the noise dies down a bit, you can hear the mumblings of the wrong words to My Old’ Kentucky Home throughout the entire house and porch.

• When it comes time to load the horses into the gate, there is always someone their who seems to have every horse picked. This guy is known as “Digger Phelps”, because he is not ruling out anyone to win.  He has $2 to win on every horse, and you are sure to hear about how he knew the winner was going to win for months after the race is over. You also have the guy/girl who can’t remember who he/she bet on.  They ask their husband/wife over and over until it has to be written down for them like they are twelve.

• And they are off! This is either the best 2 minutes of your party, or the worst. You find out very early on that the guy/girl that could not remember who they had bet on is pulling for the wrong horse. As they normally do, a few people who bet on the speed horses have called the race over after a bout a furlong into it and are celebrating. About10 seconds later, they are all ripping up their tickets and walking out of the room faster than their horse is fading. Around the 3^rd turn, your in-law, realizes that the horse he put $2 to show on is making a move.  Even though he is one of the favorites and the guy stands to win about.20 cents if he makes it into the money, your in-law begins cheering like it is no body’s business. He is on all fours as the pack starts down the stretch, and is pounding his fist on the ground with each stride of his pick.  The entire party becomes a small roar as the horses cross the finish line.  There are high fives, there is disappointment, and there is confusion because the guy/girl who was cheering for the wrong horse realized she/he did not win, even though the horse she/he pulled for finished first. The guy who was on the verge of a .20 cent win fall is right up against the TV, because he lost track of his horse, and is waiting on a replay. Your wife slips off to the computer room to check on your wagers, and she returns with a smile on her face.  She tells you that depending on the official results, you may have just hit the Trifecta .

• When the results are official, it starts another sequence of emotions. Your in-law is dancing on the couch, because he has a new .20 cents in his pocket.  The girl/guy who was confused about what horse he/she had is still very confused, and they are being consoled by a friend.  One of your over weight friends has passed out with his shirt off in your back yard, and someone has drawn a male genitalia on his back.  During all of the excitement, your little barbecue sauce covered wiener dog became nervous and moved her bowels in the living room floor, and no one has cleaned it up. When your wife gets a glance of the final results, she can not control her excitement, and also moves her bowels in the living room floor; again, no one cleans it up. You are not affected by these events, because this means you did indeed hit a big one, and it is now time to party! I, I mean, you roll over to the stereo and play the song below as loud as you possibly can!  Happy Derby day!

Extremely late trips to the hard Rock, Cadillac Ranch, and that piano bar I mentioned before to celebrate the big win over the Vols made Sunday morning a little rough.  Another noon start meant that we had to pack, get ready for the game, and get the hell out in a short period of time, and with a pretty solid headache, it was not pleasant

After the chaos of preparing to leave our hotel subsided, we then attempted to start the process of getting an elevator.   In the past posts, I mentioned that it was tough to get an elevator when just about everyone in your hotel is leaving at the exact same time.  I also mentioned that our hotel was the main hotel for the Mississippi State team and fans, being that they were our opponents for the championship game; it was going to be tougher than usual to get a ride down from our 9^th floor room.  It was also impossible to get a luggage carrier to put our stuff on; we were going to have to pack it all with us.  My brother and sister in law took the steps down with their arms full of luggage.  My mother, wife, and I had more than we could carry down ourselves and we were going to wait on those two to return to help with the rest.  Already in a foul mood from the fact that I knew we were not going to make it for tip off, I rolled toward the area that I needed to be in to wait for an elevator.   Before this day, I had sat waiting for an elevator for nearly 30 minutes, watching the elevator doors open  several times only to have the elevator be full and force me to have to wait for the next one.  With all the UK and Mississippi State fans leaving and checking out all at the same time, getting an elevator was going to be near impossible.  With this thought running through my head, I could feel my blood starting to boil.  That is when I found out that today was going to be my day.  The first elevator that stopped at our floor opened its doors, and not a soul was on it, a big blue miracle!

I wedged my wheelchair in it’s doors and began yelling for mom and Jess to hurry.  They somehow managed to grab up all of our 20 bags and stuff them on the elevator with me.  The only problem with this elevator was that it was going up, but I did not care, as long as I was on it, I would ride it out.  We went up nearly 20 floors, stopping at almost every one only to have to tell a UK fan there was no room, and that we were sorry.  The UK fans understood and politely said they would take the next one.  Eventually we got to a floor where a couple of UK fans were and the husband, I guess, told the wife to go ahead and get on with us and he would walk.  The elevator became a bit more cramped, but it was manageable.  The hotels elevators were tiny. The next floor up there were 2 Mississippi State fans and that is where the fun began.

When the door opened, my wife and mother politely said to them, “Sorry, it is full”.  The man, in his 50s, said, “It doesn’t matter, we are getting on anyway” and stuffed him and his wife/prostitute in to the tiny elevator with 3 women, a guy in a wheelchair and 6 large suitcases plus luggage of their own.  If you are one of these types of people who stuff your fat butt onto an already packed elevator, I will tell you exactly what my wife told this MSU jerk, you are a rude piece of trash (that was very edited).  We had to go back down 20 floors with this ass and his hooker/wife, stopping at every floor, and the 5 of us jawing at each other the entire way down.  I was very impressed with myself that I could find that many ways to tell the man and his tramp how classless he and his silly little school were.    I doubt I have ever told someone to shut up that many times in a row, in that short a period of time, in such a confined area in my life.  I have cheered for the Bulldogs more than once against other SEC teams, but that will never happen again.  It might have only been one or two people that threw water bottles and debris onto the playing surface in Starkville, but it was only because the other fans who didn’t throw anything, didn’t have anything to throw.  They are all creeps and their school should be banished from existence.  AS they say, dogs drool and cats rule!

This was never so evident then when we finally reached the lobby and a young man (wearing blue), under the age of 16, saw us with our many bags and offered to help jess to our car with them.  I wish I would have gotten the young man’s name, because I would have given  him a shout out.  The young Kentucky fan didn’t even want to accept the $10 bill my mom made him take for the help.  Mississippi State could learn a lot  from that young man.

The tension was thick in our final entry into the Bridgestone Arena.  You could feel that the Big Blue nation was not satisfied with a 2^nd place finish in the tournament.  My brother and sister in law, after seeing every team except UK play in the tournament, finally came across a decent price on a couple of tickets for the championship game.  MSU brought probably the 2^nd biggest fan base, yet, it did not compare to the sea of blue inside the arena Sunday afternoon.

We all know how it went, Cousin’s  put back stirred up the biggest roar I had ever heard at a UK basketball game.  It was one of the luckiest wins I have ever seen a team get.  8 different things had to happen in that last 2 minutes in order for UK to win, and they all happened, beautifully.  MSU missed free throws, John Wall’s steal, Eric Bledsoe’s made and intentionally missed free throw, the Patterson tip, the Wall lane violation no call, the Wall air ball, and the Boogie catch and put back, and that wasn’t the half of it.  Basically MSU was beaten by a series of fluke events, and after the event in the elevator with the old man and his jail bait, it could have not happened to a better bunch of people.

Our TGR trip to Music City was an experience I will never forget.  I hope all of you are able to experience at least one SEC Tourney, it has to be on your bucket list.  Next year’s Big Blue Family reunion is in Atlanta.  Maybe we will see you there.  If you did not get a chance to see all 5 parts of my story you can check them out  here.

Intro

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

You would have all been proud of the crew on Saturday morning.  Everyone was recovered, and ready to beat some Volunteer butt!  My only issue of the morning was whether to wear my Jodie Meek’s ‘Witness’ t-shirt, in order to make sure the Vol fans  remembered how Jodie poured in 54 and the order the baskets fell in, or my Jon wall t-shirt so that UT fans would know that there is no Scotty Hobson dance, only a J-Dub jig.

Ticket prices were once again, out of this world on Saturday morning. Scalpers were talking in the thousands when discussing a transaction with perspective buyers, this, once again, meant my brother was watching from a near by establishment. The first time I was told that there were more people without tickets, than people with tickets; I was hesitant to believe that.  Like I have bragged about before, I have been to 5 and I had never known that to be the case.  In Music City, this was absolutely the case. I know the SEC wants to move around the tournament to different parts of the south, but they have to put this thing in bigger arenas/domes.  The tournament is becoming more and more popular; it is only going to grow.  Why put money into the pockets of scum bag scalpers unnecessarily, and keep fans of your conference out of games they are willing to pay you money to attend. You might be able to provide HD cameras to your SEC Network games with a few more bucks.

Going into the arena, I really thought it was going to be a pretty good Tennessee crowd.  I guess there horrible school colors somehow deceive the mind and eyes, because there might have been 2,000 UT fans, and that would be a generous estimate.  I either heard or read that someone had said “Tennessee fans should be embarrassed” and they should have been, it was in their own state.

My lovely wife had surmised earlier in the week that the C.A.T.S! chant was probably as bad to UT fans as ‘Rocky Top’ was to us.  Stating that that song makes her ears bleed, I completely agree, that song is the entrance music of the devil.  I decided before the game that I would count the number of times it was played, and I did.  It was played twice before the teams were even introduced; it was on the 3^rd playing that the Big Blue took control of the arena.  When the first cords of that joke of a fight song fired up, the BBN started the “Go Big Blue” chant throughout the entire song.  From our seats, you could not even faintly hear the band playing, it was completely drowned out, and it was one of the most inspiring moments of my BBN career.  The next 16 times they played it, the ‘Go Big Blue’ chant went up every time and it was great.  The sparse Volunteer crowd made it tough to find someone to talk trash to during the “Beat Down at Bridgestone” (I think I just made that up).  The few Vol fans that were near me probably heard me scream to Daniel Orton, “Be careful Daniel, He Might have a gun!” a few times.

I told you that I had a story about Ashley Judd’s backside, and I do.  A couple of TGR idiots had seats 20 rows behind the movie star, and she never sat down the entire game, none of the games.  He had quite the view for the greatest show on earth, and the basketball games too.  The guys sitting directly behind her did not pay nearly what their seats were worth, I am sure. I heard from a few UK fans that they are tired of Ashley being put all over TV during UK’s games, your thoughts, if any?

The game was great, as we all know.  There is no better team and coach to put a complete beaten on than them.  It took Vol fans, the few, a lot less time to get out of the gym, then it did to get in.  The Big Blue celebration was on!

I could not get my hands on a cold beer fast enough.  The bar we found ourselves at after each game is on the corner of 4^th Avenue and Broadway, that is why it is called Legend’s Corner, because it is on a corner (Tennessee is a very intelligent state).  After a few drinks, my brother and I strolled out to see if their was any ticket scammers out looking for a sucker.  Not long after we made it out the door my brother looked up and saw something down the street that caused him some distress.  When I asked him what he saw, he said that some of the UT players were walking our way. He was distressed simply because he knew it would be physically impossible for me to let them walk by us without saying something ‘smart asses to them.  Lucky for him, they chose to take the opposite side of the corner we were on, unfortunately for them, the rest of the TGR crew was walking towards them on that side of the building.  The hated Scotty Hobson happened to be the one the guys recognized, and immediately started the chant, Scot-Ty-Hob-son! With a clap in between chants, this seemed to upset Mrs. Hobson.  Scotty’s mother had some very explicit comments for the TGR boys, I can’t believe such a pretty lady could have such a dirty mouth.  This became the highlight of the entire trip for a few of us.

Once again, we were at legends too long.  This time long enough to have the next game, Vandy vs. Miss State, end. That meant plenty of victorious MSU fans would have to walk right by us to get out of the area, another chance to run our mouths.  I can’t understand why UK fans get a bad rap.  I don’t think I have said the words, “call me” as many times as I did in an hour’s time.  I held my hand to my ear like I was talking on the phone for the duration too.  I had no idea that encouraging MSU fans to leave their water bottles in their hotel rooms could be so much fun, and I had no idea it would bother them so much when you reminded them to do so.

The last good story of the night happened, yet again, in the Legend’s Bar.  The bar and its employees were very hospitable the entire time they served us throughout the weekend, let me point that out.  The bands and the lead singers of its bands let UK fans participate in its songs and most of them even put something to do with Kentucky into their songs they played.  Everything was great, until late in the day on Saturday, that is when the lead singer of the band on stage decided to play ‘Rocky Top’ after we had kicked UT’s tail all over the floor across the street.  This infuriated quite a few of the UK fans in attendance, including one inpeticular TGR mom.  Legend’s is damn near her favorite bar in America, it is the reason we spent so much time there.  After spending so much time and money in her favorite bar, the idea that they would play that song at this moment made her so mad that she got up and left, vowing never to return.  It is her favorite bar!  She spent 99% of her time in Nashville there!  She talked about it for an entire year after last year’s tourney, but it had betrayed her and she took her ball and went home.  If that ain’t Kentucky, I’ll kiss your ass.  Go cats!

Is there anything better than a UK game day?  When you have a ticket?  If there is, I don’t know about it.  The TGR family was moving a little slow early Friday.  The arrival celebration went deep into the night for most, I being one of the few exceptions.

After a quick preparation, we made our way to the elevators.  For those who don’t know me, I am a wheelchair user, have been for 12 years now.  I understand that our country was not built for wheelchair use originally, so I don’t bitch when there are issues with the accessibility of different places or what have you. I understand that our society is trying to conform itself to regulations, slowly but surely. Saying that, I am going to rant.  If you are one of these people who wait for an elevator, and when the elevator comes, no matter how many folks are on it, you squeeze yourself in it…You are a rude piece of trash. If you are in that big a hurry to get down stairs, either use the stairs (if you are able), or get up a bit earlier and take in consideration that most of the hotel occupancy will be going downstairs at the same time, just like morning traffic. My wife and I are very considerate when it comes to this process, if it looks like my chair might make anyone in the elevator uncomfortable, we pass up the elevator and wait on the next one.  Why is it that difficult for others to do the same? OK, I’m done.

When we got to the lobby my TGR peeps were pitiful.  I even heard one refuse a beer, which is unheard of most of the time.  I ended up with a pre-noon Bloody Mary, which I was careful not to drip on my sparkling new white Patrick Patterson jersey I was sporting.  We departed soon there after, those with tickets to the arena and those who did not have any, to the bars to watch their cats with thousands of others in the same boat.

It was when we got within a few blocks of the Bridgestone Arena that we began to understand the magnitude of the Big Blue nation’s complete take over of Nashville.  It was not only fans, it was vendors selling UK gear, it was car and trucks decorated to the max with UK flags and stickers and blue and white paint, it was basically a circus of blue.

My mom, Jess, and I had seats together.  They were not bad, 3^rd level about the 3^rd row.  They were on the same side of the floor as the benches, behind the UK bench.  The arena there holds about 20,000 for basketball games, and there is not a terrible seat in the building from all indications.  My brother and his wife did not get in, the cheapest ticket any of us saw on game day was $400 a piece.

No reason to recap the game, we all saw it.  There were some really tight moments for me; Alabama played a very tough 1^st half.  When we cut the lead to 1 in the 2^nd half, then the Tide rolled off 2 straight baskets, I got a bit nervous.  Surely I had not come all this way to see only one game, right?  PPat grabbed control late and pulled out a close vic over the Crimson Tide.

Tide fans are very odd, I had two different sets of fans say that they would cheer for the Cats to win the tourney after their loss to us, not another fan base in the conference would ever do that, so “Roll Tide!”

A group text was sent out late in the game for the TGR to meet back at Legend’s Corner, and a celebration cold beverage was had by all!  1 Down, 2 to go!

Lunch was had at Bailey’s Pub & Grille on Broadway.  I recommend it, nice food, and nice atmosphere.  It was one of the locations for TGR non-ticket holders to watch the Big Blue. My only problem was that it was very very loud, I am all about loud, but their TV‘s could be heard from blocks away.  The best story of this place? One of the founding fathers of TGR ran into a guy he met on his honeymoon in Jamaica a couple of years ago, very very random.  Proving the BBN knows no boundaries.

Most of us returned to the hotel after lunch. Some of the girls, both male and female, took naps to help the recovery process. I took my show to the hotel bar for some post game discussion with random people, both UK fans and different team’s fans. Time flies when you are discussing basketball with people who know quite a bit less than you do about mark Krebs high school career and Ramon Harris’s shoe size, but it was fine.  Before I knew it, most of the girls had   risen from their beauty rests, and were ready for…not much.  Quite a few ate dinner in the hotel. After to long, most of the REAL soldiers had gathered in the   hotel bar to watch Miss State beat Florida.  An hour or so after the game, the Bulldogs came walking through the hotel lobby, only feet from the bar. Out of no where, an applause grew from the patrons of the bar for the MSU team, UK fans included. That is when the TGR crew joined in, not with applause though.  All of us were holding up our hands to our ears, signaling to them, “Call me”. One or two were yelling at them to “call me!” I was yelling at MSU All-American, Jarvis Varnado to “Please don’t throw any water bottles at us!”, he simply shook  his head and smiled.  Nothing like harassing young adults because of the school they chose to play a sport for.

After a short stay at a downtown piano bar, that I can’t remember the name of, I tucked it in for the night.  The Vols were next on our list, and payback was going to be a beotch!  Go cats!

My trip to Nashville started last Wednesday after work.  An uneventful trip down the BG parkway and I-65 landed us at our hotel for only one night.  We would be moving to the Sheraton Suites Downtown on Thursday afternoon.  We have had reservations there since last June or July.  Being the tourney veterans, we know you have to plan way ahead, so get your rooms for the ATL now if you are going.

My brother and I were a little anxious and decided on a late night cruise to Broadway and 2^nd Ave. after we arrived in the city.  Although it was not a completely ‘blued’ out scene, it was obvious UK fans were starting to make their move into the city limits. A few ‘C.A.T.S! chants could be heard murmuring from the numerous watering holes, the invasion was happening and it was going to happen fast.

Thursday morning of the SEC Tournament is a very cool day to be an SEC basketball fan. No one has played yet, no one has lost yet, and everyone has plenty of spirit and hope for the upcoming weekend.  Vandy fans even take time to look up from their encyclopedia’s for a brief moment to enjoy what is happening.  The colors, the sounds, and the pageantry are something that all UK and SEC fans should try to experience at least once.

After a short stop at the nearest liquor store, the TGR train pulled into its final destination Thursday afternoon.  It did not take long to discover that we were staying at the Mississippi State fan and team headquarters.  We saw more than 8 of their fans early, so it had to mean this was where they are all staying, because there are not more than 10 MSU fans in existence (Due to a rude MSU fan on an elevator, I will no longer ever be a fan of or cheer for the bulldogs, more about that later).  When we got to our 9^th floor room, it became clearer that it was MSU’s hotel, when we saw the entire MSU team chillin’ on their balconies one floor above ours.  I never saw them contending for the tournament title, so I did not take the time or effort to heckle them like I had done the UT Vols the year before, not worth it.

The TGR family started to assemble soon after we arrived.  The planes and vehicles all arrived safely in Music City and moved toward our downtown home.

Our SEC Tournament started the same as it had the year before, with a tequila shot for my mother, this time minus the iced tea.  Legend’s Corner Bar was the official TGR gang hang out for the weekend.  It is located on the opposite corner as the Bridgestone Arena, its location is butter for UK fans while attending the tourney.  It has a wonderful combination of country music and extremely cold beer that makes it hard for me to pass up.  The band was “just OK”, he seemed to think he was Tim McGraw.  It was kinda weird actually that someone would try to immolate someone that much.  He had the hat, the look, and the wiggling hips (my wife noticed that, not me).  Cold beer makes any music good though, and it was  handy in this situation.

I wrote a couple of weeks ago about how to get SEC tickets, if you don’t have any, from scalpers.  Wear a neutral color or the color of a losing team, etc…  My brother did not have tickets and took this advice.  He went in the afternoon and night sessions searching for tickets for the cats Friday after noon tilt.   He was unsuccessful, not only were tickets hard to come by, the ones that were available were extremely overpriced.  Scalping is legal in Nashville, if you have an ID from the local chamber of Commerce, so there was no real limit on ticket prices folks could ask for.  A ticket to UK’s first game is being described from some as the “toughest ticket in SEC tournament history”.  Prices ranged from $1,200.00 for upper level to $2,000.00 a ticket for lower level seating, quite  a bit out of the league of most UK fans.

Several hours  after we arrived at Legend’s Bar, we were still there.  It was  only after about 5 or 6 hours that we took our group elsewhere.  By this time most , if not all, of us were feeling no pain, to say the least.  My wife was no exception, and the moment  she saw UK Head coach Joker Phillips walking down the street, it was on.  So, here goes…

Dear Joker,  I am sorry for my wifes  behavior Thursday night.  She knew the next morning that you probably did not care about her going to the women’s football camp last year.  She  also knew that you probably could not understand much else she said.  She was just very excited and happy to see her fav new football coach, and she can’t wait until next year.  She is very sorry for harassing you.

Thanks. R.A.

Our stroll down Music Row went in and out of some of Nashville’s best  honky tonks.  It was a perfect atmosphere for UK’s ballgame eve. A couple of cold snacks later, I found myself tucked into my cozy hotel bed.

A few of the TGR crew did not do as I did, instead they took to the hotel bar on the lower level.  Cat fans have a lot of things in common, one being that it is never too late, or too early to get a big loud ‘C.A.T.S!’ cheer going.  Our hotel had an open area in the middle of the hotel, so all of the hotel balconies were on the inside.  Whenever there is the slightest sound in the bottom of the hotel, it echoes up all 20+ floors.  That might have been why the hotel manager, followed by one of Nashville’s finest had to tell the TGR crew to shut up. When one of the TGR was told to stop chanting he told the cop that he would stop, but the 9 year old  in the bar had to also.  The late 20 something and the 9 year old were asked to leave the bar area.

Friday was game day for the Cats, more on that later…Go cats!