60 years

There's something symmetrical, I think, about turning 60 earlier this month and then attending the 60th Anniversary celebration for Allen Fieldhouse, which took place in that wonderful old barn last night.  The symmetry exists in how important Allen Fieldhouse is to me--heck, it's even the inspiration for the name of this blog given my perch in section 10 in the Phog.

I feel like I grew up in Allen Fieldhouse.  My parents began taking me to games when I was nine or 10 and from then on in my life, the number of games I missed only numbered in the dozens.  I witnessed, night after night and afternoon after afternoon, great games played by the likes of Wesley, White, Robisch, Stallworth, Valentine, Manning, Vaughn, Pierce, Collison, Simien, Collins and Robinson, and by lesser-known names like Franz, Kivisto, Kellogg, Thompson, Turgeon, Robertson, Morningstar, Reed and Releford.  I saw guys go off on Kansas--guys with names like Peeler and Durant--yet still lose, and I saw coaches stride off of the Allen Fieldhouse floor in a sullen funk, having been beaten yet again by the Jayhawks.

After I left home for school and then professional life, I always knew that I could count on seeing my parents, each game, at Allen Fieldhouse.  My first date with my wife was to a Kansas-Missouri game in that building.  My best friend,  who died way too early in life, and I shared season tickets when doing so meant a significant hit to our respective disposable incomes.  And, both of my children attended their first sporting event in, yep, the Phog.

If a building has a soul, as Jay Bilas contends with Allen Fieldhouse, then my soul and that of this building are inextricably woven.

I realize that I am incredibly lucky to have had the opportunity to step into Allen Fieldhouse 500 plus time so that I could sit down on one of those rock-hard benches, get cozy with my neighbor, and look on as Kansas won one of its 713 home court victories in the Phog.

Last night's event was a chance to revel in the magic, relive the great moments, thank four of the five coaches (Dick Harp is deceased) who coached in this building, and pay homage to the greatest home venue in all of college sports.  It's the loudest arena in the land, says ESPN Magazine, and it's the "St. Andrews of college basketball," says Bilas.  Most importantly, it's home--home to so many great memories that I know are shared by all of those who see themselves as part of this wonderful family and heritage.

"Pay Heed" indeed--you truly can go home again.