Down at the old school

Went out to the old school last night.

I was there to watch basketball, to root for my brother and his JV team, to slap backs, to shake hands. I had forgotten how much fun it can be.

Believe it or not there are still some familiar faces. Gary Davis still keeps the scorebook. Rodney Duncan still sits in the corner -- I guess because Cheri makes him. It came after I graduated, but Tim Reeves still works the PA.

Here is a "this will make you feel old" moment. I noticed an attractive, well-dressed young woman sitting with several students. After a few minutes, realization struck. It was Brooke Underwood, one of pal Gary Underwood's daughters, who was about 10 when I graduated from Halls High. She is an assistant girls coach now for J.D. Lambert.

My, how time slips away.

Jason Webster, who like Tim is about my age, is athletic director. Coach Mark Duff -- hero, teacher, history mentor -- is principal. The kids look so young. (Did we look like that back then?)

As I bundled up to face the winter chill outside, I thought for the hundredth time how lucky I am to still be haunting the homestead. Sometimes I wish I were elsewhere, but when you balance the scales, it tips in my favor.

I had such a good time it made me forget about what I saw later -- Kentucky's Jodie Meeks and Tennessee's inability to stop the guy's red-hot shooting.

Well, almost.