The other day, Mom and I were talking to someone about my having two boys. "Much as she loves sports, she's really made to be a boy mom," Mom said. There's probably a lot of truth to that. I'm 37 years old and STILL can't apply eyeshadow the right way, but I can tell a zone defense from a man-to-man as soon as the starting five has taken the floor. Given that, I've been really excited to take the boys to Lexington twice this summer to see the breeding ground of our beloved Cats.
The first trip was in July. On Daddy's birthday, we met him and Mom in Lexington and even got to tour the UK basketball practice facility. While we were there, the strength and conditioning coach (Rock Oliver) came over, pinched Freddie's thighs, and said, "This one can leg press 500 pounds." During the visit, we also saw Coach Cal across a room. He waved and, later that day, called Daddy to see how the boys had liked their visit (I'm writing this down, so I can always tell them these anecdotes about their Wildcat heritage). For as excited as I was to hear of this call, you'd think I'd shaken hands with a Beatle or something.
Our second visit was for UK's football game against the Ohio Bobcats. It was a long day after a long (for them, anyway) trip. We headed to the Stadium about 12:45, waited in line for the CatWalk, and then sat in the JMI Sports hospitality suite before hitting the field and, ultimately, the JMI suite. Freddie, who spent the whole time in the stroller, was pretty nearly perfect. Jones was ... not. He wasn't terrible. He actually handled it better than I thought he would, but he definitely had those moments that made me think, "I am NEVER LEAVING THE HOUSE WITH HIM AGAIN." Of course, I will - we've got tickets for Midnite Madness next month, in fact - but I won't do it without wondering why in the world I am so hellbent on passing on not only my love for the Wildcats but also my love for roadtrips.