Apathy is real in Big Blue Nation following Kentucky's latest loss

There’s a famous saying that gets trotted out when times are tough, particularly in sports: the only thing worse than anger is apathy. Nobel laureate and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel put it much more poetically when he said that the opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. Well, in taking the pulse of the fanbase following Kentucky’s loss to Missouri, the fourth defeat of the season, apathy is trending for the new year.

There are few fanbases in sports that love their teams as much as the Big Blue Nation loves the Cats. With no pro sports teams, Kentucky Basketball was THE show for those who grew up here, a source of pride for a state that is often the butt of jokes. Over the past decade, Kentucky Football has gained momentum and even eclipses basketball for many, but regardless, one thing has always been true: as the Cats go, you go. Kentucky wins, you’re happy. They lose, you’re sad. They lose in frustrating fashion, you’re ready to go to war for them. That’s what being a fan is, but to quote one John Calipari, it’s different here.

Kentucky fans are right up there with Alabama fans in terms of emotions being so intertwined with team performance. The fandom unites us in a way few things can. Families bond over it. Schedules are based on it. Group chats are dedicated to it. Strangers become friends on the internet because of it. Heck, this blog became a multimedia entertainment outlet with ten full-time employees, all because of it.

That’s why what’s happening right now sucks so much.

When I got on social media this morning following the 89-75 loss to Missouri, alongside the usual rants about the offense and John Calipari’s postgame remarks were comments from friends and followers about how they didn’t watch the game or turned it off because it was too painful or, worst yet, they just don’t care anymore. This has been a growing sentiment on my timeline going back at least to the loss to Saint Peter’s in March, and, if we’re honest with ourselves, longer. For an increasing number of fans, Kentucky Basketball is no longer appointment viewing.

I don’t make it a priority to watch UK bball games anymore. If I have something going on… no big deal. That is CRAZY for me to say out loud because I have been a die hard fan my whole life. It’s not must-watch anymore.

— Ally Tucker (@AllyTucker14) December 29, 2022

It hurts my emotions too bad, I can’t stand being disappointed week after week, over something I love so deeply. It really is like a relationship that was once amazing and perfect but has now become frayed but you still hold on because you have hope it will work out.

— Waffles (@BBNwildcats92) December 29, 2022

I turned the game off last night at halftime. I have been Kentucky basketball for 40+years

— Jeremy (@BiggKing24) December 29, 2022

Absolutely feel this way. I got busy with my kids and never even bothered to check the score until an hour after the game was over. Even a few weeks ago, I would have at least watched a couple minutes with my boys on my phone

— Satya Mehta (@thesatyamehta) December 29, 2022

Social media isn’t always an accurate representation of life, so here are some more examples. One of my good friends, one of those internet ones that you may know as Fake Barney, has almost completely checked out, sending only the occasional text after the occasional game. If Kentucky comes up at family gatherings now, it’s my nephews asking, “What’s wrong with us,” or “Why do we suck so bad?”. My mother used to watch every game and text me her thoughts, continuing a tradition my father and I had before he passed away. Last night, she sent me a single text, when Mizzou went up by 18 four minutes into the second half: “I finally turned it off.” My response: “I don’t blame you.”

We could debate for days about when Kentucky Basketball changed under John Calipari. A lot of people point to the loss to Wisconsin in 2015. Going into that night, the fanbase was on the highest of highs, all in on the impossible dream of 40-0. It felt like the pinnacle of the Calipari Era, only to turn into a nightmare when the shot clock hit zero and Nigel Hayes’ putback still counted.

I’ll admit that my fandom changed that night. When Kentucky lost, the joke became, “Well, at least it’s not as bad as Wisconsin.” However, that old buzz was still there when the 2016-17 team with De’Aaron Fox, Malik Monk, and Bam Adebayo trounced UCLA to advance to the Elite Eight, and it still stung when Luke Maye made sure they didn’t get any further. The same goes for the 2018-19 team’s loss to Auburn in the Elite Eight and the abrupt end to a really fun run in 2019-20. You don’t need me to tell you how things have gone since then. The joy that is usually reserved for March is now relegated to big regular season wins, and even those are becoming few and far between. Imagine how bleak the past year might have been without Oscar Tshiebwe.

There are other factors, too. The pandemic altered perspectives for many, with sports becoming a lesser priority. A lot of my friends have had kids and don’t have as much time to keep up. There are a million other things to watch on television now or ways to spend your time. Given the way things are trending, watching “Glass Onion” on Netflix is probably a lot better for your health than sweating through another painful game. Life is short, etc.

…But again, that’s why this sucks. I never thought I’d see the point in my life when Kentucky fans were searching for reasons not to watch, especially the week of the Louisville game. We should be making Louisville photoshops and getting our Ls Down shirts ready for the annual beatdown in Rupp; instead, we’re writing long-winded whiny columns like this. Saturday’s game is starting to feel less like the rivalry we know and love and more like a contest of who’s sadder, Louisville fans or Kentucky fans. (For what it’s worth, I still think it will be Louisville when the clock strikes midnight.) While there is plenty of time for this team to turn it around — the 2013-14 season taught us never to give up, even in March — faith that they will seems at an all-time low.

I’ll end with another quote. Al McGuire used to say of Kentucky Basketball, “They had it before you, they had it during you, they’ll have it when you’re gone.” That’s certainly true when it comes to head coaches, but what about the fans? Does Kentucky Basketball even exist if its fans don’t eat, sleep, and breathe it? The crowd at KSBar last night proves all hope is not lost, but in 2023, let’s hope fans get a reason to hang on.