Billy Gillispie gets arrested last night for suspicion of DUI, and Rick Pitino goes off on a bizarre tirade against the media, after being forced to admit he couldn't keep his pants on after hours in a fancy restaurant six years ago with a woman he just met and Vinnie the Bodyguard watching from his comfortable spot on the floor. John Calipari's Memphis team gets their whole season ripped from the record books. Sports authors around the nation must be wondering what the heck is in the water here in the Commonwealth.
Frankly, I have reached my limit with commenting on scandal. I am tired of defending Calipari for now (let someone else defend him... I've done my bit, and done it way better than any of his detractors), I am tired of commenting on Rick Pitino and his you-couldn't-make-this-up ménage à trois with the media and an emotionally disturbed woman. I am not even going to begin commenting on Billy Gillispie driving around with a drunk person (and possibly two drunk people if you include him) in a Mercedes at 2:30 in the morning. All I can say to Gillispie is this: "Brother, with your history of alcohol and driving, plus the millions you made at Kentucky, you aught to be renting limos every night, or hiring taxicabs."
In the end, there is very little to be said except that the rest of the United States must think Kentucky is a place where crazy people go to live. Our fans are over the top, our coaches are always in trouble or under suspicion of something. On the bright side, we have not yet been accused of having anything to do with the death of Michael Jackson. And John Wall is getting ready to dominate this year, and getting 4.0's in summer school.
A silver lining to every cloud, that's how we do it here in the Bluegrass.