THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY: How an NBA Star’s Early Exit Crushed Kentucky’s 2010 Title Dreams and Left Big Blue Nation Asking “What If?”
In the rich tapestry of Kentucky basketball lore, few “what ifs” sting more than the one surrounding Jodie Meeks. A prolific scorer, a relentless worker, and a beloved figure in Lexington, Meeks was poised to lead a rejuvenated Kentucky team to national glory. But instead, he declared for the NBA Draft following his junior season in 2009—just as John Calipari was arriving to inject the program with fresh energy and five-star firepower. The ripple effects of that decision shaped the course of the 2009–10 college basketball season and left the Bluegrass faithful haunted by the tantalizing possibility of what might have been had Meeks stayed for one more ride.
Meeks wasn’t just good—he was electric. During the 2008–09 season, he averaged 23.7 points per game, broke Dan Issel’s long-standing single-game scoring record with a 54-point eruption against Tennessee, and proved himself as one of the deadliest shooters in the nation. He carried a team that lacked identity and depth, routinely bailing the Wildcats out with his jumper, toughness, and sheer will to win. Despite Kentucky’s struggles that season, Meeks’ performances put him on NBA radars. But the general consensus among Kentucky fans and basketball analysts was that if he returned for his senior year, UK would become a legitimate title contender—especially with the arrival of Calipari’s blockbuster recruiting class.
That 2009 recruiting class wasn’t just good—it was transformational. John Wall, DeMarcus Cousins, Eric Bledsoe, and Daniel Orton walked into Lexington with superstar credentials and NBA futures. The class had everything—speed, size, athleticism, and swagger. But what it lacked, sorely and obviously, was outside shooting. Wall could blow by defenders and finish at the rim. Cousins could dominate the post. Bledsoe had strength and slashing ability. But none of them had Meeks’ ability to stretch the floor, and without that, Kentucky’s offense sometimes clunked when it should have soared.
Meeks’ return could have given that team the one weapon it didn’t have—a cold-blooded shooter who could punish zones, space the floor for Wall’s drives, and force defenders to make impossible decisions. Imagine Wall kicking out to Meeks on the wing instead of passing to streaky shooters like Darnell Dodson. Imagine Cousins drawing double-teams and finding Meeks spotted up behind the arc. The synergy between Meeks’ perimeter threat and Calipari’s dribble-drive offense could have produced fireworks. And it might have been the piece that lifted Kentucky past the Elite Eight, where they famously fell to West Virginia in a shocking upset.
That loss to West Virginia in the 2010 NCAA Tournament still stings. Kentucky, with its star-studded roster, went cold from the perimeter at the worst possible time. The Wildcats shot an abysmal 4-of-32 from three-point range. West Virginia, by contrast, rained down threes and executed their game plan with discipline and precision. Meeks, watching from the NBA sidelines with the Milwaukee Bucks, must have felt a pang of what-could-have-been. His presence on the floor that night could have tilted the balance. He could have broken the zone. He could have made West Virginia pay. He could have sent Kentucky to the Final Four.
Of course, no one can fault Meeks for his decision. The NBA window is fleeting, and after such a stellar junior year, his stock was high enough to warrant a shot at the next level. He wasn’t guaranteed to be a first-rounder, but he believed in his game, and he carved out a respectable NBA career, known for the same sweet shooting stroke that once lit up Rupp Arena. But timing, as they say, is everything. And the timing of his departure—just as Calipari was about to unleash one of the most hyped teams in college basketball history—was devastating for Kentucky.
Fans still debate how far the 2010 Wildcats could have gone with Meeks. Some say national champions without a doubt. Others believe they at least would have reached the Final Four. What’s not debatable is this: Meeks would have added leadership, experience, and an elite scoring threat to a team that lacked consistent perimeter production. He knew how to take and make big shots. He had been through SEC wars. He had carried the weight of the Kentucky jersey when others wilted. In a season where youth occasionally got the better of the Wildcats, Meeks’ maturity might have been the difference between promise and fulfillment.
His story is a microcosm of the fine margins in college basketball. One player’s decision can reshape a program’s destiny. For Kentucky, it meant a bittersweet season—one of highlights, headlines, and heartbreak. It meant dreaming of what could have been while coming to terms with what actually happened. Meeks, for his part, remained a proud Wildcat. He returned to Lexington over the years, engaged with the program, and never distanced himself from the fanbase. But for many, his absence in 2010 felt like an irreplaceable void.
Ironically, Meeks may have played a bigger role in the resurgence of Kentucky basketball than he’s given credit for. His junior season was the lone bright spot in an otherwise dreary campaign under Billy Gillispie. His performances brought attention, kept Kentucky relevant, and reminded the college basketball world that there was still elite talent wearing blue and white. His individual brilliance may have softened the blow of a coaching change and kept recruits paying attention to what was happening in Lexington. When Calipari arrived, the cupboards weren’t totally bare—and Meeks was a big reason why.
Had he stayed, there’s a real chance Kentucky cuts down the nets in 2010. There’s a real chance Calipari starts his tenure with a championship instead of an Elite Eight exit. There’s a real chance Meeks writes his name alongside the greats not just for individual performances, but for banners won. Instead, he remains a beloved figure whose career is defined by a different kind of greatness—one that ended just a bit too soon in college and just a bit too late to deliver the dream season Kentucky fans longed for.
That season ended with heartbreak, but also laid the foundation for future success. Calipari continued to bring in elite talent, and in 2012, he finally broke through with a title. But even then, whispers of 2010 lingered. The missed shots, the painful exit, the absence of a floor-spacer. Meeks could have been that guy. His number never hangs in the rafters, but his legacy looms like a ghost over the 2010 season—a reminder that sometimes the difference between champions and contenders comes down to one man’s choice.
To this day, fans ask the question with a mix of admiration and sorrow: what if Jodie Meeks had stayed? What if that silky jumper had been on the floor against West Virginia? What if the NBA had waited just one more year?
History doesn’t offer replays or do-overs. But for Kentucky fans, the dream of 2010 lives on—not just as a memory, but as a vision of what might have been. A season on the brink. A team loaded with promise. And the one that got away.
