In Part 2 of ESPN The Magazine's March 5 story on Saul Smith, writer Gene Wojciechowski examines Smith's life-threatening illness, his relationship with his parents and Kentucky fans. Click here for Part 1. Also, read Geno's opinion in his weekly column, Movers & Shakers.

Keep going. Is that what you tell Donna Smith? She had heard the taunts and criticisms before, at nearly every road game for the past four years, but never had she been forced to sit in icy silence as Big Blue yahoos booed her son. If only they knew. If only they'd seen little Saul when his temperature hit 104° and Tubby and Donna thought they might lose him. If only they knew about that 22-day vigil the Smiths spent watching their 2-year-old in intensive care. "If people want to hear that it hurts me as a mother, then yes, it does," Donna says."It hurts real, real deep."

Saul was pulled from his mother's womb 21 years ago with forceps and a prayer. Tubby was there, but the excitement of seeing his second son enter the world was dulled by the sight of Saul's blackened eyes. The boy cried a lot as a baby, and each time a bubble would form on the bridge of his nose. Turns out, the bubble was filled with spinal fluid that had trickled into a hole in Saul's skull. Without surgery, he might have died. So the doctors made an incision from one cheekbone, across the crown of Saul's head, to the other cheekbone. They peeled back his frontal lobe and used a synthetic mesh to seal the hole. But Saul had a reaction to the mesh and an infection began eating away at the frontal lobe. "He was on his deathbed," Tubby remembers. "His temperature had blown up, his head ballooned up, stuff was coming out of his head."

So they operated again 11 months later, removing a piece of Saul's right hip and grafting it onto his skull. He had to wear a protective helmet for the next 11 months. And it wasn't until he was 12, when he had surgery to fix his nasal passages, that he could finally smell his mom's cooking.

He was born with fine soft hair, and his mother and grandmother would run their fingers through it and say, "You look so pretty." So of course he wanted a high-top fade with his name carved on the sides, like every other kid at elementary school. "But I could never get one of those," Saul says. "That's when I realized I had scars on my head."

In a way, those scars would bring him closer to a father who was busy working his way through the coaching ranks. Big brother G.G. protected Saul. Donna nurtured him. But only Tubby, who had moonlighted as a barber in college, was allowed to cut the delicate hair of his self-conscious son. It wasn't until Saul's sophomore year in college that anyone else could be trusted to work the shears around those scars. By then, Tubby had repaid the trust in full. When he succeeded Rick Pitino at Kentucky, his first recruit was none other than Saul, even though father and son both knew what an unforgiving place Rupp and the road could be. So what if Saul was nowhere to be found on the list of big-time prospects. He was good enough for Tubby, and that's all that mattered.

***

It's pretty simple, really. Kentucky fans expect nothing less than SEC championships, No. 1 seeds in the NCAA Tourney and Final Four appearances. They don't understand why Myron Anthony transferred to TCU in 1998, or why Michael Bradley bolted to Villanova and Ryan Hogan left for Iowa almost two years ago. They bemoan the loss of seven-foot signee John Stewart, whose tragic death during a 1999 state tourney game left a big hole in the middle. They can't believe how Desmond Allison could be so stupid as to lose his scholarship after a DUI, or how the team's best player, Jules Camara, could do the same thing and have to redshirt this season. They don't understand the seriousness of Hawkins' asthma condition. Most of all, they don't understand why mighty Kentucky is stuck with a coach's son who reminds absolutely no one of the beloved Wayne Turner, the guy Saul caddied for during the Cats' 1998 national championship run.

Of course, they forget that Kentucky needed depth at the point back in '97 and '98, and Saul provided it. And it isn't as if Tubby ignored the nation's best high school guards. Adam Boone, who eventually signed with North Carolina, was on the Wildcats' short list, as was Chris Duhon (Duke). But Kentucky took an oh-fer, and Tubby didn't have much choice but to stick with Saul. "There are certain groups here that don't want me as coach," Tubby says. "So I know they're going to look for anything and everything. You're not going to change those folks." Adds a member of the UK athletic department: "They want to be Secretariat. They want to lead from start to finish. And right now, they don't like the jockey."

Saul Smith is the jockey, and "he is what he is," says one SEC coach. He can defend. He can get you in your offense. He can hit a trey on occasion (just ask Florida). But he shoots only 34% from the field, and if you held a draft of Kentucky's current roster, he might be the ninth guy taken. A pro career? Please. The next bench he sits on will be reserved for a coach or a judge. Yet ... he has a diamond-studded Final Four ring, a place among UK's all-time assists leaders and the admiration of opposing coaches. "I'll pay him the ultimate compliment," Harrick says. "He plays hard every single night."

***

Sean Sutton knows how it feels. He played the point under his dad, Eddie, for two years at Kentucky before following him to Oklahoma State. He was booed twice at Rupp as a sophomore and subjected to endless taunting on the road. Even now he winces at the thought of Saul standing there alone that night against Vandy as the Rupp crowd dissed him. "I can relate," Sutton says. "The thing about Kentucky fans is that some people are not going to accept him no matter how well he plays."

And guess what? Tubby and Saul don't give a damn. Father and son are closer now because they took a leap of faith four years ago. You should see them together -- Tubby rolling his eyes as Saul interrupts a drill to question the logic of a defensive assignment. The kid has always been chatty like that. "And he's usually right," Tubby admits.

"I think I've lived a pretty fun life," Saul says. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about me being able to walk around on this earth. You never know. Just look at Oklahoma State."

His playing career at Kentucky will be over soon enough. He'll leave with a ring, a layer of skin thicker than a car bumper and no second thoughts. He'll leave with a bear hug and probably a tear or two from his old man. And if he ever writes a book about it all, Saul already has a title picked out.

"The True Stories in the Life of Daddy's Boy," he says. "How 'bout that one?"

This article appears in the March 5 issue of ESPN The Magazine. To read Part 1, click here.