For those of you who don't know me, this is what I look like.

Rivalry: (n) competition--Webster

the need to compete against in every aspect of life, someone who is going for the same goal as you are--Urban Dictionary

"It's, like, another team that you don't like very much."--the majority of children when asked to define the word on IQ tests.

Today's the day, brothers and sisters. For an entire year we will be able to smile smugly or hang our heads in defeat. Needless to say, we have the ultimate trump card. Louisville would be trying to win with Larry Eustachy if our freakin' coach didn't have to come back to Kentucky. But Pitino isn't the Party-on-Euclid Pitino anymore and those days appear to be over.

It isn't the Louisville player that bothers me nowadays. I'm sure if I met, say, Andre McGee in line at Qdoba, he'd be a very pleasant sort. Not like the days of Milt Wagner, who called Drexel "one of them academic schools." And I'm very fond of my Louisville fan friends. I wish them well in all of their other endeavors. I just never want them to win in any athletic pursuit. Cool?

No, it's all the little things that just send me over the edge. Take, for example, the lyesreport, where some dude named Crash Craddock cited benching Rajon Rondo as a reason for hating Kentucky. I heart you, Rajon. It's none of your beeswax, Crash. The lyesreport (classy name, btw) also made use of the derogatory term for Kentucky fans--Kayuts. Reminds me of all the Yankee vacationing golfers who used to visit Barren River State Park and ask me how to get to number ten tee, then make fun of me when I answered. Look, ten=tin. The word does not sound like tan. Makes me want to kick someone in the shins. Go Kayuts!

I don't remember much about the original Dream Game. It happened really quickly. They found out they would play on Thursday and played on Saturday. I do remember losing. I was in third grade, and I don't think I knew the University of Louisville had a basketball team. Did I ever find out! The uproar that ensued was fierce and furious. Kentucky and Louisville played twice when I was in fourth grade, and the matter was discussed everywhere. From prime-time television to the playground, from my grandparents' dinner table to the Governor's desk, the Cardinals and Cats were a matter of great debate. Glasgow gets cable television from Louisville, so I got to hear Denny Crum flap his opinionated jaws about racism ad nausem. It was frightening for a little girl who grew up outside the shadow of segregation.

Happy Valley Elementary embraced the furor wholeheartedly. We chose teams for everything based on team loyalty. Games of dodgeball and Red Rover, Red Rover were based on UK and U of L. I watched with furrowed brow as children I thought I knew chose to compete for Louisville (gasp) in math races. I then hurried home to practice my long division!

My favorite Dream Game occurred on 12-18-2004. The phone rang on Friday afternoon. "Do you want tickets for tomorrow?" (Do I want oxygen and plasma?) We arrived at Freedom Hall and waited in line with a childhood friend to pick up our tickets. The friend is a mammoth human being who played semi-pro football for a time and is a Louisville fan. Diminutive, steel-spined Sandy Bell handed over the tickets. She said to our friend, "You'll need to give me that (Louisville) hat." He looked at her quizzically and gave her the hat. She added, "And I'm going to ask you not to cheer. We get precious few of these tickets. These people do not want to listen to you." The massive man looked at her mutely. Silent he remained until his hat was returned to him after the game.

We went to our seats in the Freedom Hall rafters. We watched as our Cats fell further and further behind, trailing by 16 points at halftime. We listened as some hilljack called out "That's why I hate you, Carrier!" when Josh made a mistake. We endured a cacophony of halftime "music" we had never heard before.

Then the impossible happened. The Cats made a comeback. With 0.000001 seconds on the clock, Patrick Sparks drew a foul from Ellis Myles. (Billy Packer said Patrick walked, which made Patrick really mad and caused a little scene later on in the year.) Patrick iced three free throws. The Cats won by two. There was nothing Ricky and friends could do about it (hee, hee!) The hilljack congratulated Michelle Sparks. I told him it was nice of him to say something to Patrick's mom, but he probably really offended Josh's. I think I made him uncomfortable...

We journeyed to the court to wait for the team. There I spied the sign I had been viewing all day: Popcorn--$3.00, Tickets--$300, 3 wins in row over Kentucky--priceless. How I wanted that sign! It would be booty for Brandon's war chest. But I knew it could not be, as it was hanging from a railing far, far away. As I discussed this, a Freedom Hall security guard overheard my plight. He said "I'm a Kentucky fan. I'll get it for you." What are the chances in all the world that a member of the Committee of 101 would ever do that??

Oh, Kayuts by ten ;)