The Thompson-Boling Incident

You know, I never really considered Tennessee a rival. The gap in football was just too big. It's hard to get all riled up over a 40-point loss. Consider it a very cold cocktail party in jeans. And I just couldn't take the basketball Vols seriously. I watched the Cats beat them by 80 one time. They would win the occasional game, but they could easily be swatted away like those little gnats that swarm around if you leave the fruit tray out too long. I understand the frustration of my Eastern Kentucky friends--a Vol fan will trash talk. In Glasgow I was never privy to that particular experience. I knew Louisville fans and the one Indiana fan (Nemesis. Pure evil in a maillot swimsuit.) The Vols just never figured in.
All that changed on one February night, 2006. The Vols had picked up a flamboyant, smelly, outspoken new Yankee coach, a 2-seed the previous year (still couldn't make the Elite Eight), and a win in Rupp. Something about that Rupp win was like a bite from a vampire for the fanbase that I encountered. It erased years of things like tradition, records, championships...
We sat in our traditional away game nosebleed seats. In Thompson-Boling that means looking at the back of the Women's Banners. The game was close. At halftime I needed a Coke. While making my way to the concession stand I was grabbed by ten beefy digits.
"You're a Kentucky fan! What are you doing here?" the man exclaimed too closely in my face. I replied that I was looking for championship banners, but I hadn't been able to find any. A few more steps and a Ralph Lauren orange-checked clad gentleman proclaimed, "I think I'll come up there and watch y'all in the NIT." Nice. "Great," I answered, "We haven't been since 1979. We could use your experience." A few more heckles and gropes and I made my way back to my treacherous perch. What kind of gentleman trashtalks a girl in heels? Must be pretty insecure about his team. Oh, yeah. He's a Tennessee basketball fan.
The Cats battled. They fought. And then...one held ball, one fouled Joe Crawford, two free throws, one famous chest bump. Karma's a bitch.