The State of Louisville

Louisville basketball head coach Kenny Payne

There’s winning, and then there’s misery… And then there’s Louisville basketball

Louisville basketball fans are past the point of misery. But, how did we get here? Looking back on the Kenny Payne era, and what we’ve learned.

Pat Riley once said, “There’s winning, and then there’s misery”. For Louisville basketball, the mood of the program has been a constant state of misery for the good part of 36 months.

When a post-COVID era squad guided by Chris Mack (and Mike Pegues twice in the interim) finished 13-19, Louisville fans experienced a depth of despair that felt unimaginable in the preceding decades.

But, as we so unfortunately found out, what was waiting around the corner was a level of anguish so dark that we began to lose sight of the very fabric of our identity.

12 wins and 50 losses throughout two miserable seasons have brought an apathy that two divorcees in a lengthy custody battle would cast a judgmental glare toward.

(Queue “You shut your mouth when you’re talking to me”)

33 losses by double-digits. 14 by more than 20 points. Horrid defense, sloppy offense, a rotting culture, and a lack of accountability at every turn will take the joy out of the most unreasonably optimistic person.

Somehow, however, this author has struggled to meet the level of apathy that many others have.

It’s understandable why one would assume an apathetic stance. After all, Louisville basketball and sports as a whole serve as an outlet from the “real world” and a part of our identities to varying degrees.

Despite the reasonable apathy, I could never quite bring myself to feel that way. I kept going to the games—all told, I’ll attend 27 in the Kenny Payne era as of March 9th. I kept entering games giving the team, namely the leaders of the team, chances. Opportunities to show improvement. Indicators that the “message” was finally getting through.

But since the moment that the horn sounded on a shocking exhibition defeat to Lenoir-Rhyne in October of 2022, so little has changed that any indicators of improvement feel like mere outliers on a disturbing, destitute chart of despair.

“There’s winning, and then there’s misery.”

Going nowhere fast

As I write this, I am on a red-eye from Indianapolis, Indiana to Seattle, Washington. It’s the 17th night of the last 30 that I’ll spend in a hotel room. The journey is full of the usual suspects; Multiple people asleep, snoring with their mouths agape, a toddler kicking my seat, and no less than four people listening to their tablets on full blast.

I’m not sure if you’ve ever traveled from East to West across multiple time zones, but it’s a strange sensation. You cram into a plane seat for three to four hours, but land and it’s as if time stood still. 2,500 miles away, it’s still the same time as where you just came from. But your internal clock assures you that you have, in fact, been sucking in recycled air for the last several hours.

The journey with Louisville basketball under the Payne regime has mirrored a cross-country redeye.

Like a flight where the time hasn’t changed upon arrival, time has stood still with Payne at the helm. Coaches never changed, the playing style never changed, and the message preached to us 61 times from Payne has remained largely the same.

“Well, it’s Groundhog Day… Again.”

No one could have predicted that when the wheels came to a screeching halt at our destination two years later almost nothing would have changed. Even the most pessimistic could not have imagined things going this poorly.

Sure, there were warning signs; “Red flags” as the youths would say.

Two years ago, it was a near-baked-in decision that Payne would take over at the end of the season. A deafening faction of the fanbase made sure of that, despite the evidence before us that it was anything but a sure-fire hire.

Many went along for the ride and were ultimately fine with the administration’s decision while offering cautionary warnings of failed past experiments of Kenny Payne’s ilk.

“Scott Drew is an absolute home run hire,” I offered on the Starting Five02 Podcast two years ago this week. “Kenny Payne is not that. Kenny Payne is a risk.”

Alas, things fell into line and the pulse of the fanbase was one of excitement, optimism, and promise as KP ushered in a new era.

Two years later, the plane has landed, time has somehow moved even further backward and we are left with an aircraft full of screaming babies and exhausted passengers.

The wait is almost over. Time has stood still for long enough. As corny as the line has become, it’s finally time to End the Payne.


Controlling the controllable

The most important travel advice I can give anyone is the same general life advice I’d offer to most:
Control the controllable.

Use the same airlines and only take direct flights. Use the same rental service. Stay in the same hotels. Always wear socks. Exercise patience. These are things that you can control.

It’s just past midnight when turbulence jostles me awake. I look at my phone. 17 minutes into Armchair Expert with Dax Shephard. That’s 17 minutes of sleep. Sick.

I’ve been curled up in a ball, hiding under my sports coat against the window for the last four hours bidding my time until I can stretch my legs.

I peer out of my temporary shelter to see the plane’s wings breaking through the final layer of clouds to reveal the Seattle city lights below us. The area that gave us Louisville basketball greats like Peyton Siva, Terrance Williams, and *looks both ways* Hailey Van Lith greets us with a blanket of wet snow and sleet.

The plane hasn’t come to a complete stop yet and half of its occupants are unbuckling and beginning to stand in the aisles. A 20-minute wait on the runway, a 10-minute walk to the rental car shuttle, a 5-minute wait for the bus, and an 8-minute ride to Avis lead to a 20-person line at the rental counter.

Within moments, I am surrounded by angry men shouting “Representative! Speak to a representative!” at their phones.

I politely explain to those around me that a wait like this is not unusual in larger cities. If you are nice, the company will normally give you a free upgrade. I happily drive off in a ’24 RAM 2500 en route for my destination.

An hour later, 2 1/2 hours after my plane landed, 7 hours after scheduled takeoff time, and 13 hours after my departure from my home in Louisville, my same old top-floor, corner room in the snow-covered Fairfield Inn awaits me…
“And thank you for being a platinum rewards member with us, sir,” the manager says when prompted by his screen.
I plop down on the same bed, put on the same show, and resume my slumber.

The same planes, the same baggage, same cars, same hotels, same routine. Controlling the controllable.

In a volatile lifestyle full of constant change and unforeseen circumstances, controlling what I can control makes the chaos manageable.

“Things will go wrong at times. You cannot always control your circumstances. However, you can control your attitude, approach, and response. Your options are to complain or look ahead and figure out how to make the situation better.”
-Tony Dungy


It’s true that most who achieve their version of “success” place a heavy emphasis on controlling what is in their control while letting those things out of their hands roll off their backs.

While easier said than done, Kenny Payne and the Louisville basketball coaching staff have always had complete autonomy over their roster.

But if you were to prod Payne for an answer on what he controls- and he has been many times, in many ways- he would place the blame on others. Perhaps not directly at times, but he rarely, if ever, exhibits the key leadership quality of owning up to his shortcomings.

Among the first things that one learns when stepping into a leadership role is that you are responsible for the mistakes of your team. Whether you’re a restaurant manager who allows the wrong food to go to a table, a district manager whose subordinate doesn’t meet a deadline or a teacher whose class can’t grasp a lesson plan, it’s your fault as a leader.

Perhaps just as importantly, it’s your responsibility as a leader to own up to shortcomings and construct a plan to move forward.

Payne has full control of this program. He controls the roster and coaching staff; The team trainers; Physicians; Ball boys- You name it. Payne has reign over it all. If a player is practicing or playing poorly, it’s ultimately his decision how it should be corrected. If there are disciplinary issues, Payne is responsible for correcting them. And if the product on the floor, as a whole, is a losing one, he has the tools and manpower to correct it.

Even with some of the best resources in the country, Payne makes it apparent that he thinks he inherited a mess. Every press conference is more nauseating than the last. Payne might as well put on a tape recorder from his first press conference of the season and let it roll. At least, in that case, his PR team could edit out the constant gaffes, blunders, and outright embarrassing moments from his media meetings.

Payne had the opportunity to make changes. He had multiple chances to make this his program.

What gets me more than anything, though, is this refusal to change; An unwavering resistance to controlling the controllable.

If the team isn’t performing to his standard- which, my god, surely it’s not- it’s in his control to work on issues until they are second nature.

As the old saying goes “don’t work until you get it right, work until you can’t get it wrong.”

But the same mistakes have been made over and over for 62 consecutive games. The same message has been preached for those 62 post-game press conferences. And his radio gigs. And midweek pressers. All told, Payne has had over 100 chances to convince supporters that he knows what he’s doing. And, save a few resistors, nobody believes that the man knows what is going on.

Any good teacher should be able to explain a lesson plan. Any good builder can take you through every square foot of a drawing. But when it comes to Payne, it’s difficult to believe that there’s a concise plan in place at all.

60+ games in, players are constantly looking to the sidelines for direction. The team lacks basic fundamental discipline. And the train wreck is heading in no apparent direction.

I’d like to think Louisville basketball entrusted a man who has been in the business for three decades with a manageable task. But, when you look at things in Payne’s control, he strikes me more as a guy who forgets to take his shoes off at TSA. The program is in complete disarray, yet not nearly enough has been done to change it.

The Standard is the Standard

I’ve taken the last few days to look back on some fonder memories of years past. In times like this, I feel it’s important to do so.

It’s so easy for us to refuse to embrace the negativity of this team and program as a whole. To turn a blind eye to the constant mistakes and weekly shellackings.

But, I’d implore supporters to remember one thing: the standard is the standard for Louisville basketball.

If we were comfortable with these results, we might as well have made a concerted effort to keep Chris Mack in 2022. Fresh Kimble, Malik Williams, and Co. feel light years ahead of the current product.

But that wasn’t the standard. And Louisville basketball has taken a few more steps down since Payne’s arrival. This is quite literally the furthest UofL has ever been from “the standard” in the program’s storied history.

My recommendation to fellow fans is to go back and look at some of those teams you remember so fondly; the absolute squad in 2009, the standard-setting teams of the 80s, and the return to greatness in 2013. Watch clips of your favorite players. Really take it all in.

And then let your mind wander back to the reality and gravity of the situation we’re in. Allow yourself to feel something. Allow yourself to get angry. Let that passion bring a jolt of life to your system.

Get back to your roots as a fan and remind yourself what the expectations should be going forward.

You’re allowed to control your controllables, too. And what is in your control is that you can start allowing yourself the freedom to look forward to a day without the current “Payne”. For that, I am grateful.

There’s winning and then there’s misery. For Louisville basketball, the misery is, almost assuredly, over.

About the Author

Presley Meyer

Founder, Editor, and Creative Director | Born and raised in Louisville, Presley is a former student-athlete and graduate of Louisville Male and The University of Louisville.

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