The name rings a bell. It's OK, you can laugh about it. Sam Malone totally gets it.
Grow up an hour south of Boston as the namesake of the one of the most popular TV characters of the 1980s and 90s and you get used to the jokes even if you happened to be born just months before "Cheers" and Ted Danson — who played the former Red Sox pitcher turned womanizing barkeep that fetched beers for Norm, Cliff and all the rest — took its final bow.
That kind of affability helps when you spend four years on the end of the bench at Kentucky, a walk-on who rarely walks onto the court. The 23-year-old played all of 30 minutes during his career. He's scored all of one point this year — a free throw against Montana State in November and hasn't hit a basket since scoring against Radford on Nov. 23, 2011.
That's a lot of sitting and watching, a lot of stool carrying, a lot of abuse from opposing fans. Malone has taken his role and embraced it, wearing a white headband during games to hold the explosion of wavy black hair atop the 5-foot-11 guard's head. It makes him a target in opposing gyms, and he kind of likes it.
"There are some people, 'Look at the kid on Kentucky with the headband? Does he think he's going to play or something," Malone said. "But basically it's me just trolling people because I know I'm not going to play idiot. It's always some guy who's waited 10 hours to get tickets to the game and that kid is screaming at me? It's always the goofiest kid doing it."
There are worse lots in life than having the best seat in the house for Kentucky's historic run. He could have gone to a lower-level Division I school and got some playing time, but he wouldn't have a national title ring. He wouldn't have buddies making millions in the NBA. He wouldn't be a cult figure for one of college basketball's most fervent fan bases.
He'll graduate in May and then who knows? He wants to travel. There's always business school. Maybe coaching. He'll miss his teammates and the taunts. He'll miss the times John Calipari yells "Malone" and sends him to the scorer's table to check in. Who knows? His father Joe ran for the U.S. Senate against Ted Kennedy in Massachusetts in 1988. It didn't work out. It hardly bothered his dad. Serving as a practice player for a dynasty is hardly something to complain about.
"Sometimes you miss playing in games but when you get in at the end and you're up big, you don't want it to end," he said. "But really, it's unbelievable. I wouldn't trade it."
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