Opinion: How I am looking at this Louisville basketball season with a glass half full approach

Check out the full podcast here:

I woke up this morning to a half dozen grainy videos of myself losing my voice, and going crazy at Louisville basketball’s season opener against Bellarmine.

A splitting headache and a hoarse voice greeted me immediately as I sat up out of bed, hungover from straining my voice and staying up far too late. Recording, editing podcasts, and interacting with some of you knuckleheads on social media until the wee hours of the morning.

This isn’t the first time this month. In fact, it’s become a common occurrence to receive videos of myself going bananas at UofL football and basketball games.

I high-five and hug anyone in the vicinity when good things happen, give the refs hell, and go nuts when my team does well. I run the stairs and get people hyped during defensive possessions. I get red in the face, draw crazy, blank stares from people in my section, and probably look like a damn fool.

You might think I’m crazy, and you’re absolutely right.

But, I’ve always been this way. Especially during times like this.

Louisville basketball lost to Bellarmine on Wednesday night. And, try as they may down the stretch, the Cards simply could not get the job done in the end.

This is going to happen again during the 2022-23 season. There will be games where you’d rather be anywhere else than within the confines of the KFC Yum! Center, or watching from your couch. This is only the beginning of a trying season that will test our wills, our grit as fans, and our patience as supporters during the Kenny Payne era.

Payne and the Louisville basketball coaching staff have received sharp criticism from the Monday morning quarterbacks, and perhaps for good reason.

Louisville basketball, as a program, should never be in a place where it finds itself losing to crosstown foe Bellarmine.

Given its rich history — a borderline blueblood pedigree — staunch supporters, and lofty status in one of the nation’s elite conferences, no excuse will be accepted for losses to teams that are transitioning from the NCAA’s Divison II. Yet, that’s what happened on Wednesday night.

Louisville’s fall from grace has been a culmination of multiple scandals, FBI and NCAA probes, accountability resolution process stalwarts, and five head coaches in 6 seasons. It’s been ugly. It’s been mentally taxing. And, yet, a future where Louisville is playing championship basketball again feels way too far out of reach.

Patience is wearing thin. Fans are feeling the hangover effect an NCAA/ FBI/ IARP cloud that has been holding our beloved program in its clutches for well over half of a century. Many lost their jobs and positions with an NCAA institution, likely, forever. Hundreds of families lost their livelihoods. Thousands, who staked their reputation with the program which they support, were forced to search inward and consider if supporting a program with multiple black eyes was pointing their moral compass too far in the wrong direction.

Amid the waiting for a final decision from the NCAA on its latest infractions case, Louisville missed out on an unfathomable amount of recruits and saw teams with promise flame out or never even get a chance at finality during the COVID-19 pandemic.

We are hurting. Likely more than we’d care to admit to each other. And the program to which we stake our reputations, spend our very little free time, and give our hard-earned money simply is not providing a return on investment or filling any buckets of our lives.

So that brings me back to Wednesday night. The vibes were about as good as anyone could have hoped in the KFC Yum! Center, yet the play on the floor still lacked the identity of teams we became so accustomed to seeing for decades.

And then there’s me. Screaming. Imploring other fans to stand and cheer. Flailing my arms. Almost certainly annoying many around me. A grown man pushing the boundaries of anyone in his vicinity.

I feel it important to explain why.

There’s been a growing restlessness among the Louisville fanbase across almost all sports since former AD Tom Jurich’s departure.

In basketball and football, particularly, the sentiment has been one of despondency. Two programs that reached the pinnacle of their existence in the last decade have seen their in-person support dwindle, while the mood remained one of apathy and reluctance to jump back in and fully emerge oneself in fanhood.

It has been over the last two years that I have felt the compelling urge to lose my inhibitions just a bit more.

While other fans have been dipping their toes in, testing the temperature of fellow supporters, hoping not to jump back into a relationship perhaps perceived as toxic, I have been running across a busy intersection without looking both ways.

You see, it’s not in my nature to love this city, and, by proxy, this university and its programs half-heartedly.

When Kenny Payne was introduced as the Louisville basketball head coach he implored former players, fans, students, and the community as a whole to be patient and to provide constant support.

“I need you. I can’t do this alone.”

And it’s true. So much more than we often realize.

In 2013, I attended the Sugar Bowl, where Louisville football was victorious against No. 3 Florida. Just months later, I was there when the Louisville basketball team cut down the nets after a national title. At those times, it was easy to cheer.

I remember vividly being frustrated with Louisville’s defense in a 34-point blowout of Syracuse and 24-point romping of Marshall in 2016. I recall being despondent when the Cards couldn’t pull away down the stretch in the 2012 final four. When those times come back around — and they will — criticism is warranted. Expectations will be rightfully high.

By the same token, my expectations for this Louisville basketball program have not changed over the course of my lifetime. The bio for the Starting Five02 podcast reads “National Championship expectations”, because that is the standard that should be set.

But right now? That standard is unattainable. And just as you wouldn’t ask someone in your personal life battling something out of the ordinary to do you any favors, I don’t feel it right to ask of this program to hold itself to a higher standard at the moment.

The healing process is only beginning. The usual standard will continue to remain far out of reach.

But, just as you’d alter your expectations for a relationship you value personally as that person heals, expectations for this Louisville program will return to their usual form in the coming years. As they should.

But right now, I see it as my obligation and my duty as a supporter to only help the program heal.

Will I be critical when warranted? Absolutely.

But, more importantly, I will continue to lose my mind for this team.

Recently, I wrote that “I hope not to come across as ostentatious, but I have always felt that Louisville basketball was so much bigger than a program confined to the walls of the Kueber Center. Louisville basketball is deeply engrained in the culture of this city. The city that birthed me, raised me and molded me into the person that I have become. Louisville basketball is as important to this city as Muhammad Ali, bourbon, horse racing– Fill in the blank for whatever cultural phenomenon draws you in. It has broken barriers between us. It brings us closer. It opens our hearts and fuels our optimism. It helps drive our economy.

Louisville basketball is not Louisville basketball without Louisville. And Louisville is not Louisville without Louisville basketball.

As a city, as a culture, and as a university, we have carried a burden for over five years. We awaited a decision that, until it was announced, could have fallen in any direction; The result of which could have set us back even further.”

Now that it’s time to heal, I don’t want to be anything other than supportive. I don’t want to do anything more than jump on a seat and lead a CARDS cheer after an important play. I don’t want to provide anything more than my complete and total support. To, as corny and played out as it sounds, “give my all for the Ville”.

I’ll never be someone to tell others how to fan. Come late. Leave early. Sit on your hands for all I care. Give me dirty looks.

Everyone provides their support in different ways.

But, for me, personally, I want nothing more than to continue to give all of my energy, and good vibes, and share every good moment that I can find with you all.

That’s my gift. That’s what I feel called – compelled – to do.

If you see me at a Louisville sporting event in the near future, feel free to laugh. Feel free to stare.

Because, when I look back on these times, I’ll know that I was a part of something so much bigger that led to a future that is far greater than what we are experiencing now.

I love this process. And my one hope is that you’ll try to enjoy it with me.