The first time I saw Patty she glowed. We met at the bar Bourbon Street in Hartford CT, and the night was like Mardi Gras for us: partying, dancing and laughing. I’ll leave any “beads business” to the imagination. I was immediately struck by her, and we started dating right away. 

It was March when we met, and Patty and I bonded over our shared passion for UConn basketball. The men’s and women’s programs were just beginning a climb to national prominence, but Connecticut already had a case of “Husky Fever”. Sharing their triumphs was an early joy, and the pain of defeat in March Madness stung us both immensely.  

Our relationship flourished along with many basketball triumphs. One day, I was looking for something in the closet of our condo and I found something that looked like a bone. Made of foam, it was bone white, and it said “Husky Hoops” in black letters. It was a dog bone! And it was made to be worn as a hat. 

We had just scored season tickets for the 98-99 men’s home games. When I saw the bone, I knew it was destiny! I would wear the bone to games. Maybe Coach Calhoun would spot me in the crowd! 

But then I thought: what if Patty doesn’t want to be sitting next to the guy with the bone on his head? Maybe this is not something that adults do. 

When she came home from work, I greeted her with the bone on my head. She laughed and said, “Where did you find that? I won it in a raffle years ago.” 

I told her how I found it, then said, “I want to wear it to games.” It seemed forever waiting for her reply.

As always, she surprised me. She enthusiastically said “Of course!” She was more than ready to be the woman sitting next to the guy with a bone on his head.  

The first few games I got a lot of looks, some amused, some seeming judgmental. But then the cameras found me in the crowd, and there I was on the jumbotron for 15,000 people to see! Soon, I was on the big screen every game. The looks became huge grins, high-fives followed, and a new nickname was born: Bonehead! 

That season the men won their first national championship. We were ecstatic, and one thing was clear: I had to keep wearing the bone. It was obviously a good luck charm. 

Over the next 12 years, I faithfully wore the bone to home games. For a long time, I was a staple on the jumbotron, and there was Patty right next to me, with a look of amusement and love, proud partner of Bonehead. Some people even started calling her Mrs. Bonehead! 

Sadly, the bone didn’t age as well as our love. Over the years it became yellow, lost all its letters, and sagged on both sides. Eventually it became a pathetic thing, which drooped so low that Patty started to call it my “ears”. I looked like a sad, rejected Disney character. The camera stopped finding me. People started to look away with a bit of shock, as if the bone was terminally ill and looking at it was traumatic.  

The last game of the 2012 season I left it behind at a bar. I called the next day, but they said they threw it away because “It looked like garbage.” I was disappointed, but I had to admit they were right. The bone had seen better days.  

It turns out that was the last game we would see Hall of Famer Jim Calhoun coach. He retired after that season. 

Is it coincidence that I began wearing the bone the season that he and his Huskies won their first Championship? Is it happenstance that I lost it the last day Patty and I would see him coach live? 

Maybe. Or maybe it is the most underreported story of the Huskies historic run to triumph after triumph, and three men’s national championships.