Don't Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth

One of my favorite Final Four memories happened in 1985 in Lexington, Kentucky. That year, my wife, Judy, attended the event with me. This was BC (Before we had Children).

The tournament was on Easter weekend that year. On Easter Sunday we spent a good part of the morning searching for a Catholic church. We finally were able to find one. It seemed as though Judy and I, Chris (my long-time Final Four partner), Tim (a friend who attended with us that year) the Catholic coaches from around the country (Ray Meyer, Digger Phelps, etc.) and their wives were the only Catholics in the state of Kentucky (or at least in Lexington that weekend).

After church, we decided to see if we could tour of one of many Thoroughbred horse farms in the area. We got on the main road heading out of Lexington. As we drove west out of town, we noticed a bus pulling in to a driveway of what was obviously a horse farm. We decided to follow the bus.

As we entered the driveway, there was a sign that said "Gainesway Farm". The driveway was lined with picket fence and bluegrass. We pulled up to the guard station at the head of the driveway. As we approached, I rolled down the window and the security guard—armed, no less—asked our name.

I replied,'"Knust, K-N-U-S-T," spelling it for him as if he was going to find it on his list.

Gainsway Farm from the highway

"I don't see that on my list, sir. Could I see you invitation?" he responded.

Seeing that we were in over our heads, I told him that we had forgotten it back at the motel and offered to go get it. Just then, from the back seat, Chris bellowed (as only Chris can bellow), "We're with the press!" Tim, Judy and I all rolled our eyes at Chris, who had judged this as a perfect opportunity to try a bullshit line.

The security guard looked in the backseat at Chris (who was dressed just like a sportswriter!) and told us we could enter, but asked us to cover for him and not to let anyone know that we didn't show our-invitation.

I replied, "No problem," and we were on our way up the 1/2 to 3/4 mile driveway.

The driveway at Gainsway Farm

At the end of the driveway, another armed security guard asked to see our invitation. I didn't even have an opportunity to speak before Chris chimed in. He obviously was not going to let this "schmuck" stop us after his success at the front gate.

Once again he explained that we were "with the press and that we had forgotten our invitation back at the motel. The security guard waved us by and we proceeded to the parking area where we parked between a pair of Mercedes and behind a BMW. (We were in my 1983 Chevrolet Malibu company car).

My 1983 Company Car Malibu

Chris absolutely took over from this point. We were there about two minutes before we learned that this was a press function. Gainsway Farm was holding an open house to promote Thoroughbred horse racing to the many sportwriters who were in the area for the Final Four. There were quite a few other people (sports writers) there who, like Chris, were wearing a T-shirt from one of their previous Final Four trips.

We were guided on an extremely interesting tour of the facility and learned all about Thoroughbred horses and the breeding process. Chris was asking questions at every opportunity. I think most of those in our tour thought that he was preparing a feature article for his publication.

Judy was nervous to start with, but became more and more nervous with each question Chris asked. We had lied to get in and she was certain that we would leave in handcuffs.

After the hour-long tour, we were led into a large open-air barn—about the size of a basketball court. In the middle of this facility were some tables with mountains of finger sandwiches, heavy hors d'oeuvres, and desserts. There was a bar at each end of the "walking barn". As we.went.through the line of food, Judy had a look of absolute terror on her face while Chris, Tim and I were thinking we might just spend the rest of the day here!

This barn was full of food and drinks!

We proceeded to the bar where we were given a betting form and card for a horse race. The Jim Beam Stakes, a Breeder's Cup race, was being held in Florence, KY (near Cincinnati) that afternoon. There were several large screen TV's scattered throughout the gazebo. They would be showing the race on closed-circuit. We were encouraged to bet on the race. One of the forms with the correct pick would be and the winner would receive a case of Jim Beam.

When Tim's form, with the Wichita Sunflower (Wichita State University newspaper) as his affiliated newspaper, was a winner—and entered into the drawing after the race, I thought Judy was going to pass out. We waited for the drawing (Tim didn't win), and left soon after for the health of my wife.

Pretty sure this is the only time Judy smiled that afternoon!

As I reflect on the events of that afternoon, I regret not administering a bit of "Kentucky tonic" to Judy. I think she might have enjoyed both the medicine and the tour! That afternoon we redefined "March Madness" in her eyes!

There is just as much horse sense as ever, but the horses have most of it.  ~Author Unknown