Passing Down the Madness

I turned 12-years-old in March of 1992, but it was a friend’s 12th birthday party that I remember. We gathered at his house for revelry and merriment, but the party disintegrated into a tense mob of people crowded around one of those old TV’s that were built to look like wooden cabinets. It was the NCAA Regional finals, and the Cats were in overtime with a spot in the Final Four on the line. That in itself would make this a big deal, but this was something much greater. Kentucky had barely escaped the NCAA death penalty, and the Cats were coming off three long years of probation. This was, for many of the kids at this gathering, our first real taste of the tournament, and we were about to beat the defending national champions.

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