An Open Letter of Apology to Kyle Kuric

Kyle,

I just wanted to apologize to you. In the preseason I referred to you as a poor man’s Bobby Perry. I didn’t really mean it as a compliment. It wasn’t a complete smack in the face, after all, Bobby posted a 20-10 game against UConn’s NBA front line in the tourney, and went for 20+ against UAB in a tournament game as a senior. But really, it was a way of saying there is no “it” quality to your game. I watched you as a sophomore and wondered why you got any clock. You aren’t a prolific rebounder. You’re undersized for a 3, let alone a 4, and you only managed to hit eighteen threes in an entire season (good for 8th on the team). I mean, I heard talk about how you could jump, but all I saw was another white kid jacking up threes, and when seven of your teammates can outdo your biggest strength, well, I guess your game left something to be desired.

Moving forward, you started slowly this year, only hitting double figures in two of the Cards’ first eleven games (I’m not counting a ten-point effort against WKU when your team scored 114, that’s like saying that you got to wear a jersey). Then your game started to heat up. Your stats still aren’t outrageous (10 ppg and 3 rpg), but there is something very not-Bobby Perry about your game. It is obvious when you are on the court. You bring energy. You hit 46.9% of your threes. You have big games against good teams (17 v. UNLV, 28 v. Notre Dame, 15 v. UConn, 23 v. Syracuse). When UofL’s half-court offense struggles, you’re often the guy who gets open in the corner for a 3 or finds a way to punch in second-chance points. Most importantly, you dunk on faces. Everyone notices when white guys dunk on faces, and that’s what you started doing this year. You dunk on faces and you don’t care. Ask anyone if they noticed when you dunked against Notre Dame. They did. They noticed big time. They’re still talking about it.

I don’t want to lay it on too thick, but I just need you to know that I know I was wrong about you. You may not be Jeff Sheppard, but you’re closing in on that standing. You’re bringing plenty to the table as a basketball player, and you don’t stop there. You were also homecoming king of your college...and it’s a big college. I was homecoming prince of my high school, so I can appreciate the hard work it probably took for you to achieve that honor. You should be pretty proud. You have nicely-defined arms too. They may be the best-looking arms on your whole team, and everyone likes to be the guy on the good end of a bunch of "Gun Show" jabs. But I digress. This post is about setting things right between us. As an olive branch, I’d like to offer you “Special K” as a nickname. Your coach really likes nicknames, but he veers towards initial-themed monikers (T-Will, E5) or seemingly nonsensical nicknames (“Bullet” for Elisha Justice?). Special K isn't a creative nickname, but it’s better than nothing. You take Special K, and go ahead and use something corny like “8 essential ingredients for building a championship basketball team.” I hope we’re cool.