Vols
I'm a Kentucky girl. I know Wildcats and Big Blue Country Basketball and still remember the many thrills of watching Rex Chapman, Sam Bowie and Richie Farmer swishing the net at Rupp Arena. I married a Tennessee Volunteer. I decided early in the game not to hold that against him. After all, in all other respects, he is as sane as the next man, and has a great heart. I know it isn't a black heart. It is as orange as a pumkin.
Football reigns supreme in Tennessee. Down here, they believe girls play basketball...ergo the Lady Vols, their national title dominating Ladies' Basketball team. I haven't quite convinced anyone here that Basketball is also a national championship MEN's sport.
I've never really looked good in Orange. It makes me look sallow, but I have to say that Neyland Stadium has a definite orange ambiance. It reminds me somehow of a huge, pulsing living, breathing Jack-o-lantern, ripe for the madness that erupts when that Big Orange machine comes charging out of the bowls of the orange stadium, running through the orange Pride of the Southland Band, followed by orange cheerleaders and orange dance team members and all the peripheral orange members that make up the inner sanctum of the Volunteers.
Most of the time, my eyes travel immediately to "Smokey," the Blue Tick Hound that is Tennessee's mascot. Smokey doesn't care that most of the spectators seem to think life and death can hinge on the outcome of any particular football game, whether the opponent be Western Kentucky or UCLA or Georgia or Florida or even my own beloved Kentucky. All Smokey cares about is getting to charge up and down the sidelines or run across the end zone following one of those all important touchdowns. Smokey is just happy to be there. I can only imagine what he must be thinking during the game, and I wonder how often the urge to charge the field and chase that pigskin enters his doggie brain. It is, after all, his natural instinct to chase and fetch. He must wonder why he isn't allowed to chase that ball, since everyone else on the field seems to be allowed to. Be that as it may, I can't help but be infused with enthusiasm for the game when I happen to glance at Smokey and see him dancing on the sidelines, eager to join the fray and happy to be part of that Big Orange Hullabaloo.
I like football. I like UT Football. I will be a fan...right up to the point in time that UT plays UK. That's when my blue Wildcat colors will come out and ours will be a house divided. I wonder what Smokey thinks about the mascots that accompany other teams. Somehow, a human impersonating a wild cat doesn't carry the same "uumph" as a living, breathing canine mascot.
I think Daisy and Dolly would love to go to a UT football game, but their interest would end when the tailgating goodies are packed away. They are so obvious in their love of creature comforts. They might even give Smokey a second glance; he is, after all, a fine, masculine canine specimen, but unless he came bearing steak bones as gifts for them, those Kentucky Divas would probably not give him the time of day, mascot or not.
