Kentucky Basketball - LIVE BREATHE BLUE - Brotherhood, Bankroll, and a 50-Year Reunion

It’s hard to believe it’s been fifty years. Appropriately, the members of the University of Kentucky’s 1975 NCAA basketball runner-up team were honored during halftime of the Wildcats’ recent 80-57 victory over South Carolina. Some of you may remember the seniors on that team coming in as the heralded Super Kittens freshman class in 1971. Jimmy Dan Connor, Jerry Hale, Mike Flynn, G. J. Smith, Keven Grevey, Steve Lochmueller, and Bob Guyette would then remain together as loyal teammates until that magical Final Four run four years later.

I’m not sure if a future reunion of this magnitude is even remotely possible for players on any of Kentucky’s current teams—or any college basketball teams for that matter. Relationships take time to develop. In an era of one-and-done departures and transfer portal chaos, meaningful bonds struggle to take root due to the lack of time spent together. Logistics have replaced loyalty. The old adage used to be “players win games, but teams win championships.” Now, it’s more like “players cash checks, and teams are just temporary landing spots.” 

We can all agree that college basketball has changed a lot over the past half century. Although the baskets are still ten feet off the court, the movement of players through programs has skyrocketed into the stratosphere, rendering the traditional team dynamic nearly unrecognizable. The thought of a Reed Sheppard or Cooper Flagg playing for the same school for four consecutive years is pure fantasy. The stark reality is that the dollar dictates decisions, and chasing dreams now means chasing paydays.

But what about the 98.8% of college basketball players who don’t go on to play professionally? What’s the trade-off for those average Joes who decide to jump from school to school in pursuit of more playing time or an extra NIL payout? And what happens to the programs and fans left watching a revolving door of short-term mercenaries?

“It was great spending four years with these guys,” said Flynn, who dropped 22 points in Kentucky’s thrilling 92-90 upset over No. 1-ranked Indiana in the Mideast Regional final. “Those four years of my life were some of the greatest four years I’ve ever spent. I think it’s very special to go to school for four years and get your education and your degree.”

“But I understand the one-and-dones,” the Jeffersonville, Indiana, native added. Those who are good enough to get to the NBA and start making good money, they should be allowed to do that. And with all the money being generated in college athletics today, I think it’s a good thing for NIL. And now some of these programs are going to have a lot of extra dollars to distribute to [the other athletes on campus]—which is also a good thing.”

They say confession is good for the soul. I’ll confess, then, I’m purely old school when it comes to college athletics. I don’t like paying college athletes directly. I do like paying for their college tuition in exchange for their services on the court. To me, that’s a fair tradeoff. I’m certainly okay with student-athletes like Koby Brea making a little cash off selling T-shirts with his name or picture. After all, why should the NCAA be the only one to profit off those massive TV deals?

But NIL has morphed into something much more sinister than giving Jackson Robinson a little extra pocket money. It’s now an all-out arms race to see how much cash a university can extract from its deep-pocketed donors. Fancy collectives have turned into pay-for-play machines, where schools bid for talent like high-stakes auction houses. Those who refuse to indulge will be unceremoniously left behind.

Am I naïve in believing that the love of the game and the friendships forged over time should be worth more than a $10,000 car dealership endorsement? How much NIL money is enough to forsake the quintessential college experience as we know it? Do life-long relationships even matter anymore?

“What’s great for me is that we’ve managed to keep together,” explained Connor. “We try to get that original group together every two years for sure. We come to a game and get together. If you played for Adolph Rupp and Joe Hall—through some of those practices—it’s kind of like being bonded by warfare.”

“Guys who don’t do what we do and stay four years, it’s kind of a catch-22 on what you gain [financially versus what you lose out on in] friendships working together all those years,” Connor, the former Mr. Basketball from nearby Anderson County, further rationalized. “I’m sorry that guys who leave earlier didn’t get to experience that.”

Here’s to all who did get to experience it. Looking at the joy on their faces when they took their well-deserved bows in front of an adoring Rupp Arena crowd, Mike Flynn and Jimmy Dan Connor certainly have no regrets about the path previously taken.

“You ask how I feel about the NIL,” Connor said with a pensive grin. “I think it’s certainly going to change the game the way we’re used to. I hope it doesn’t ruin it.”

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. Currently serving as a columnist for Nolan Group Media, he invites readers to follow him on social media @KYHuangs. Explore his debut novel— “Name, Image, and Murder”—and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD