From the Cats loss to the Cards, to the POETUS’ nuclear noodging, to my own POTUS executing a Grayson Allen-like leg sweep to trip up Israel at the United Nations, I’m taking a writing vacation to console myself for the holidays with some fine bourbon.
But to appease the Ghosts of Chanukah Past, I share memories of a more halcyon time, when a marvelous big man with a marvelously Jew-ish name roamed the hardwood at Rupp Arena. Enjoy this 2014 piece, and a Happy Chanukah and Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night…
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Whenever my East Coast friends ask how a Jewish bagel-nosher like me could win statewide office in the country ham-slinging Bible Belt, I tell them it’s simple: There’s only one acceptable form of idolatry here, and it’s Kentucky basketball.