Clemontime

Last night, I went to my first Kansas basketball game as a spectator. It was surreal because the last time I was inside Allen Fieldhouse, I was playing for Iowa State (and beating Kansas). I grew up a die-hard Jayhawks fan. Both my parents went to KU and I watched every game as a kid. I've spoken (and written) a bunch about how Roy Williams told me I'd never play in the Big XII, about how I went to Iowa State, and about how we beat Kansas the last four times I ever played them (and how good that felt). I'll probably never completely lose that chip on my shoulder, but I spent a lot of last night's game thinking about how grateful I am that things did NOT go the way I wanted when I was 18 years old. I like my story: Iowa State on an academic scholarship thanks to Tim Floyd (and my mom's research), the early struggles, the late triumphs, the heartbreak to end it all. It's so, so hard to remember this, but it's often true that we'll never find what's right until someone tells us we're wrong.