Happy New Year, y'all. I cannot believe another 365 days have ticked away and we are welcoming 2013. Lots of milestones happened this year, some important (i.e. moving to NYC) and some that are just personal milestones of very little meaning (i.e., realizing that turning 32 means that I have been a legal driver just as long as I was not). In truth, I have been driving since I was 14. Most kids in Cassville got a head start on things like that. Dad would not feel like going to the dumpster with the trash, so he would throw me the keys and I would boogie down to Cedar Creek Road. I remember depositing my first paycheck, I remember buying a house, I remember flying for the first time but NOTHING makes you feel more free than the first time on the road behind the wheel. Even though I was hauling foul garbage from Cass Grocery, complete with almost empty tubs of mayonnaise that had been sitting in the 90 degree sun for three days and that disgusting "trash juice" sloshing around with a smell that would knock a buzzard off a gut wagon....I loved every second of it. I would crank up "Take It Easy," roll down the windows and head down the road.
Many people often look back on a year and think of all the bad things that happened. I'm not sure why people choose to reflect on sadness and grief, to be honest. They are not wrong for doing so, but I get nothing out of it personally. I would rather think of the good times. Frankly, I am living "in the now" more than ever. You cannot change the past and tomorrow is not guaranteed, so live the next 24 hours like it is the best day ever. I think my Neen's passing had something to do with that. Since I have subscribed to this philosophy, I feel much less stressed and I am not dreading going to work anymore. I feel like I am 16 again and back at the store, putting up 16 penny nails, restocking the Coke cooler and teaching yet another kid about how 2 cycle oil works. Granted, it was not all roses up there but we had it made. We really did. I try to remember what a "bad" day was like up there and it just makes me laugh. It would always be a collection of events that would make our days long and aggravating. We did not have an HR department or a water cooler to stand around and air out our gripes, so we just had to press on. So, here are a few events that I recall that could result in a "bad" day at Cass Grocery:
1) A customer drops and breaks a gallon jug of milk.
A gallon of milk can cover 375 square miles when it explodes all over a tile floor. It takes no less than an hour to mop and wipe it off everything because you cannot have any left to spoil overnight. Seriously, go drop a gallon in your kitchen right now. You will still be cleaning it when Spring Break rolls around. EVERY SINGLE customer afterwards walks in while you are cleaning it and say, "Damn boy, what happened?" I always wanted to say, "a cow was in here and sprung a leak, we got it stopped with some PVC glue and JB Weld, though. Thanks for asking."
2) The engaged gas pump handle falls out of a car and basically hoses down the front with flammable liquid.
This happened quite often with old Chevy trucks, where the gas was pumped into the side of the cab rather than the bed. You could stick your arm down the hole where the gas would go and the least little movement could jostle (another wonderful Southern term) that pump loose and before you know it, the front is a giant inferno waiting to happen. Before somebody throws a cigarette on it, you have to run and grab as much cat litter as possible to cover it up. Cat litter could dry out Lake Allatoona if you had enough of it. Of course, the presence of cat litter all over the front elicits much commentary...."you boys building a new bathroom out here? Hehehe. Hey David, these boys ain't potty trained yet?"
3) Catching a shoplifter.
In the rare event we did catch them, it always put us in a bad mood. I caught a 10 year old kid stealing cigarettes once and I locked him in the ice cooler. Literally, we picked him up and threw him in with the 7 pound bags of ice. I called his dad to come get him, which he did, and he spanked that boy right there in the parking lot. He never stole again. A local farmer once discovered that his son had pocketed some candy while he was buying horse feed and he brought his son back up to the store. He told me to make a big deal out of it, tell the kid I was calling the cops and he will never see his momma again. I did my best "bad guy" until the boy was bawling his eyes out. I wanted to dig a hole in the tile and dive into it. The farmer just winked at me and he dragged his son to the back room of the store and wore his butt out. He never stole again. Cassville justice always coming through in the clutch.
4) A group of senior citizens want ice cream and they all want the one that is frozen the hardest.
I love old folks. I really do. But sometimes, they can be as annoying as a screaming child. Without a doubt, I will have just taken a new Butter Pecan out of the freezer and an out of town church group will pile in the store. Each one wearing a fanny pack with socks and sandals. That Butter Pecan just came out of a freezer that was set at 23 degrees and of course, they all want that one. It's like trying to cut a brick with a plastic fork. You tell them this fact and they don't budge, "awww, we were craving that one." They give the puppy dog eyes and you begrudgingly dig in. 30 minutes later, you finally finish the tenth cone, after breaking at least five into a thousands of pieces. I'm shocked my forearms are not 25 inches in circumference.
5) Dealing with bad checks and giving credit.
Many folks have no idea how many worthless checks we took over the years. We've had $5.00 checks come back stamped "NSF." I got duped for $100 by a con artist once, using a two party out of town check that would have bounced to Adairsville if I slammed it on the ground. So, I called an investigator at the county sheriff's office and I told him to be on the lookout for this "sorry sumbitch" around town. I forgot about it until six months later, when the investigator dragged this rough looking girl into the store and said, "Brad, I believe Miss America here has something to say." As it turns out, the con artist was her boyfriend and they got into a fight (surprise, surprise). He went to jail over it and the investigator recognized the name on the jail roll call. She laid $100 on the counter and he just winked at me. I gave him a free bologna sandwich for his trouble. We let people get $3.00 of gas on credit and then we wouldn't see them for six months. Then, these people would get annoyed when we asked them for the money. My favorites were the people we barely knew that wanted credit. They would come in the store, "toeing the dirt" and smiling too much. They would start off with the ever original line, "hot enough for ye?" Uh oh. Weather talk. Put your hand on your wallet. Dad had no patience for this and would just cut them off, "partner, just stop right there. I might as well take out a $20 bill and light it on fire right here. You ain't gettin any credit here."
Those are some examples of bad things at Cass Grocery. They usually turned out to give us a good laugh in the end, though. I tend to think of the good people so much more. Like Tom, who would sit outside and smoke Winstons and talk to us all day. He ran a gas station/auto repair store about five miles away. He fixed all my flat tires for free until the end of the year, when I gave him a case of Natural Light whether he wanted it or not. He would never take any money from us and would get pissed off when I tried to pay him. It was only fair because my tires were magnets for wayward nails, bolts, fence staples, pieces of glass and scrap metal. One day, Tom said, "Got dam boy, you must drive through a barbed wire fence every day on the way to school." I miss Tom.
Or Andrew, who was so strong that he could hold his arm out and I could do pullups on it. Really. He once caught these two trailer trash kids stealing fish hooks and picked them up like naughty puppies and slung them out the door. There is Ed, who always helped us pump gas when we were busy. Jackie, Joel, Harold and Dee, who would drink coffee all morning and keep an eye on things. There was little wonder why nobody tried to rob us, all four of them were carrying pistols on their ankles or in their pockets. Or Mark, who would bring me steak on July 4th from their family cookout. Or Lamar, who would sit outside and wait for his ride to the Shaw plant. When I was a kid, I would talk to him and ask him why he wore a shower cap to work, "I can't be gettin' no lint on my head!" Larry and Randall, who would indulge me with stories of serving in Vietnam and always ending with, "don't you never go to war, it ain't glamorous, trust me." When I was young, I would walk up to the store when my shift started. There is no telling how many times people would offer me a ride or just honk their horns to say "hey!" It's those simple things that you like to recall. They didn't mean as much at the time, but as you get older and time passes, you realize that it meant a hell of a lot.
So, here's to another year. Here's to a simpler life. Here's to focusing on the good. Here's to doing what makes you happy. Here's to less stress, more fun and going to bed fulfilled every day. Here's to Cassville, Anderson, South Carolina, New York City, the Georgia Bulldogs, an eternally filled Starbucks cup, no traffic, 10 mph winds or less, the squat rack at my gym being unoccupied when I come in, running into good friends that I haven't seen in awhile, comfortable sweatpants, Rebel Rebel record store in the West Village, having a glass of whiskey on a cold day, the awesome silence of my parent's back porch at 7 AM, furry Kangols, live versions of "Stormy Monday," "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed," and "Jessica," sunrises and sunsets, combat veterans, pre-war apartment stoops, Napa, rigatoni bolognese, and many more years of enjoying and appreciating another 24 hours on Earth.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Unopened Presents
In God's image, more than any of us, in essence
their innocence apparent, not even to adolescence
Swept away on this December day without hesitance
their short lives, like unopened presents
Too young to know of evil's permeation in this world,
their youthful minds, like a flag still furled,
Taken by a predator, acting not on instinct nor need
but on selfishness, wickedness and greed
A premeditated act is most reprehensible,
the tools of the crime render his purpose ostensible
Even with time to ponder his bloody mission,
One hundred rounds details a clear decision
An ax to grind or an unfulfilled existence,
may explain his utter lack of reticence,
those explanations, while indicative of the cause
shall not heal the broken hearts nor give the vengeful any pause
In this season of giving, he has taken
the meaning of Christmas, by him, forsaken
dressed in battle fatigues, like a soldier at war
in actuality, a coward, who should be standing alone at Death's door
Alas, he is not, but as the Lord once said,
He who sheds innocent blood, so shall his blood be shed,
Regardless of their death, no matter how gruesome or hostile,
The pure in heart shall see God according to the Gospel
For those who are left to mourn, the pain may never leave
in this season, where we use words like birth, life and believe,
For them, it will forever remind them of Evil's cruel irreverence,
as they endure a lifetime of unopened presents.
their innocence apparent, not even to adolescence
Swept away on this December day without hesitance
their short lives, like unopened presents
Too young to know of evil's permeation in this world,
their youthful minds, like a flag still furled,
Taken by a predator, acting not on instinct nor need
but on selfishness, wickedness and greed
A premeditated act is most reprehensible,
the tools of the crime render his purpose ostensible
Even with time to ponder his bloody mission,
One hundred rounds details a clear decision
An ax to grind or an unfulfilled existence,
may explain his utter lack of reticence,
those explanations, while indicative of the cause
shall not heal the broken hearts nor give the vengeful any pause
In this season of giving, he has taken
the meaning of Christmas, by him, forsaken
dressed in battle fatigues, like a soldier at war
in actuality, a coward, who should be standing alone at Death's door
Alas, he is not, but as the Lord once said,
He who sheds innocent blood, so shall his blood be shed,
Regardless of their death, no matter how gruesome or hostile,
The pure in heart shall see God according to the Gospel
For those who are left to mourn, the pain may never leave
in this season, where we use words like birth, life and believe,
For them, it will forever remind them of Evil's cruel irreverence,
as they endure a lifetime of unopened presents.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Poetry in (e)motion....Ode to the Dawgs
Ode to the Dawgs....by Brad Stephens
32-28 was the final score tonight,
The numbers do not reflect the measure of our fight,
Games of chance, toughness and misdirection,
All decided by one deflection.
No chance to win, said "they," our season would be foiled,
The Crimson machine was too well-oiled
Toe to toe, we stood to face the fire,
Their dominance and Coach's ire.
Mistakes were made on both sides,
Very few upon which were capitalized
Bama must be living right, obviously
Fifty one rushes without a holding penalty.
Despite the yardage gained, we held firm and strong
Could this be the championship for which we have longed?
A blocked field goal and the lead of eleven,
Vanished like the Ark into Heaven (+1 for Raiders of the Lost Ark reference)
We ran out of gas, or time, that will be the story
Three yards away from instant glory
Questions of decision will be asked forever
Maybe our quick fade was not so clever.
Regardless of the outcome and the tears,
This will be a season discussed for years,
On the brink of disaster to number three,
Those whose heart was questioned responded appropriately.
To the seniors, whose time with us is ending,
Best wishes and good luck we will be sending
To Jarvis, thank you for coming home and leading the way,
We all hope it leads to a big April payday.
To Christian and Michael, for your strength in tough days
To Rambo, for your leadership and big plays,
To big John and Cornelius, I say,
I'll take you on my line any day.
To Tavarres King, who came into his own,
To Shawn Williams, the will to win, by you, it was shown
To Marlon Brown, we wish you the best in your recovery
And of course, Richard...your 4th quarter in Jacksonville is still legendary
Finally, to our Coach, the man behind the curtain
One whose future at times has been uncertain
Thank you for the memory of this season,
One that defied odds, skeptics and reason.
I feel a renewal taking place,
No more moral victories will we have to face,
For in 2013, I think the SEC will firmly be within our jaws,
So hunker down, you Hairy Dawgs.
32-28 was the final score tonight,
The numbers do not reflect the measure of our fight,
Games of chance, toughness and misdirection,
All decided by one deflection.
No chance to win, said "they," our season would be foiled,
The Crimson machine was too well-oiled
Toe to toe, we stood to face the fire,
Their dominance and Coach's ire.
Mistakes were made on both sides,
Very few upon which were capitalized
Bama must be living right, obviously
Fifty one rushes without a holding penalty.
Despite the yardage gained, we held firm and strong
Could this be the championship for which we have longed?
A blocked field goal and the lead of eleven,
Vanished like the Ark into Heaven (+1 for Raiders of the Lost Ark reference)
We ran out of gas, or time, that will be the story
Three yards away from instant glory
Questions of decision will be asked forever
Maybe our quick fade was not so clever.
Regardless of the outcome and the tears,
This will be a season discussed for years,
On the brink of disaster to number three,
Those whose heart was questioned responded appropriately.
To the seniors, whose time with us is ending,
Best wishes and good luck we will be sending
To Jarvis, thank you for coming home and leading the way,
We all hope it leads to a big April payday.
To Christian and Michael, for your strength in tough days
To Rambo, for your leadership and big plays,
To big John and Cornelius, I say,
I'll take you on my line any day.
To Tavarres King, who came into his own,
To Shawn Williams, the will to win, by you, it was shown
To Marlon Brown, we wish you the best in your recovery
And of course, Richard...your 4th quarter in Jacksonville is still legendary
Finally, to our Coach, the man behind the curtain
One whose future at times has been uncertain
Thank you for the memory of this season,
One that defied odds, skeptics and reason.
I feel a renewal taking place,
No more moral victories will we have to face,
For in 2013, I think the SEC will firmly be within our jaws,
So hunker down, you Hairy Dawgs.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Careful Optimism, 90's blues and my plea to the Dawgs
Well, folks, it has finally arrived. All my years on this Earth and and never have I been able to experience this special time. It is something you dream about, something you yearn for and when it does not happen, once again, you feel yourself dejected and saying "wait til next year." As for the lucky few who have tasted the water from the Holy Grail (+1 for Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade), I am jealous and want to be in the club. I'm like Smalls in "The Sandlot," I am in the treehouse with everybody but I don't know how to make a Smore. I'm like Aerosmith, I've been on the cusp of greatness, but just cannot quite break through. I'm like Keanu Reeves, I've been successful, but nobody takes me seriously. Well, that time has finally drawn nigh. No longer are we waiting in line and hoping for a shot. No more will we wait in the shadows and praying others will fail. I'm talking about the Black Friday sale at Bloomingdale's, of course. God help the person who cuts me off on the way to the Yves St. Laurent display in the men's cologne section, somebody is gonna lose an arm. Somebody asked me, "what is Black Friday like in New York?" I simply replied, "Dogs and cats...... living together!! Mass hysteria!" (+1 for Ghostbusters reference) It is disgusting.
No. My Dawgs are in control of their own destiny. We are like Alicia Silverstone after making "Clueless" or Michael Keaton after he made "Batman," we have the world at our fingertips, all we have to do is step up and take it. So, are we going to do it? Or are we going to disappear inexplicably like those people did? Seriously, Silverstone and Keaton were poised to be Hollywood mainstays and absolutely faded from existence in the 90's. You know it's bad when you have to post a picture of yourself regurgitating food into your baby's mouth for attention. I guess Michael Keaton will have to pull a Honey Badger....attack and eat a cobra's head off...to one-up that little stunt.
The game this weekend is the biggest home game that we have had in 30 years. Playing our arch-rival, on ESPN, while both teams are peaking. Well, I guess Georgia Tech can be considered "peaking," you do not get much lower than losing by 14 points at home to Middle Tennessee State. Yet, I am nervous. We have choked away games in the past to lesser opponents. Let's face it, nothing would make Tech happier than to ruin our shot at the BCS National Championship. The younger generation of Dawg fans do not consider Tech a rival anymore, considering that Richt is 10-1 against them and they have only beaten us once, fair and square, in the last twenty years. However, truth be told, they did beat us three years in a row in the late 90's, illegal players or not. I can say that losing to Tech is the most despicable and awful experience I have ever had as a Dawg fan. Nothing can prepare you for the unbridled jaw-jacking, Chicken Little-turned-Incredible Hulk attitude of the Tech fanbase after a win over us. In fact, there are only a few things in life that depressed me more than a loss to Tech:
1) Zack Morris and Kelly Kapowski breaking up on Prom Night because of her fling with Jeff, the new manager of The Max. Oh Jeff, how I hated you;
2) Cadbury Creme Eggs only existing in the United States during Easter;
3) The disappearance of Surge, the Coca-Cola drink that contained 12,876 grams of sugar;
4) The deaths of the lead singers of the Spin Doctors, Blind Melon and Sublime;
5) Side-spiking, Trapper Keepers and jean jackets were no longer cool.
Their fans screamed "To Hell With Georgia" during our alma mater and their players ripped apart our hedges after their 1998 victory. Then, in 1999, we had the phantom fumble. You would have thought that Tech singlehandedly ended Communism after that win. Another year of listening to smack talk from our in-state rivals from the ACC (Almost Competitive Conference). Believe me, it is a Hell that you do not want to endure. I would rather lose to Florida, Tennessee and Auburn every year. (oh wait, that was the 90's)
I have been thinking about the 90's frequently in the last few weeks. Being a Dawg fan was fun, but it was TOUGH. I remember losing to Southern Miss in 1996. Jim Donnan's first game. Some guy named Brett Favre ran all over the field, throwing impossible passes and sending us back to the locker room with an 11-7 loss. I remember Florida murdering us in Sanford Stadium in 1995 and Spurrier just smirking all game long. Tennessee reeling off nine straight wins, they could have beaten us with Jim Bob Cooter as their starter. (yes, he is a real person and he really played for Tennessee, google him) Vandy beat us at Homecoming in 1994, prompting my Dad to do the unthinkable with nine minutes to go in the fourth...."boys, pack it up because this train is going back to Cassville." Lots of 6-6 and 7-5 years, mediocrity and irrelevance. I also remember the good times. Beating Alabama at home in 1990 on a last second two-point conversion. The four-overtime victory over Auburn in 1996. The beating we gave the Gators in 1997. I will never forget Robert Edwards breaking for that first touchdown, running toward the St. John's River. You could feel the momentum as our sideline erupted. It was those moments that keep you coming back. No matter how angry they would make you, no matter how frustrating it was to watch us stumble week after week, we still packed up that blue and gold Chevy van and headed east out of Cassville at least 3 times every Fall. (I would sit in the back with my Walkman, my Collective Soul CD playing "Shine" over and over, admiring my thirteenth pair of Air Jordans and my tightrolled acid-washed Jordaches.)
We were diehards and still are to this day. I know plenty of people who hop from bandwagon to bandwagon. People who probably would have cheered for Japan in World War Two until the Navy crushed them at Midway and the Marines took Guadalcanal. It must be a tough life to be a turncoat but there are plenty out there. I guess that is the essence of human nature, it's easier to be part of a winner than to struggle with loss and hope to win. Seriously, how many random Texas Tech fans do you know? Now think of Alabama in the last four years, their "fanbase" in Georgia is coming out of the woodwork faster than Keith Marshall's forty time. I sure as hell do not remember them back in 2003, when Bama was at a low point, losing 30-0 at halftime in Athens with a terrible quarterback and a hopeless coach. They were either wearing Red and Black during their Georgia phase or still had not quite given up on Tennessee or Florida State. In any event, I have zero respect for that mindset. Loyalty obviously can be bought with wins, but I'd rather stick by my people. It would be like somebody asking me what my hometown is and I replied, "New York City." Yes, more interesting and important things have happened here. More influential and famous people have lived here. There is more money, more options, and more culture but there is no way, on God's green Earth, that I would ever turn my back on Cassville.
So begins the biggest triumvirate of games for us since Florida-Tech-Notre Dame in 1980. If we make it by Tech, we will likely meet Alabama for the SEC championship with the BCS title shot on the line. Alabama has to beat Auburn this weekend to lock in their spot. The likelihood of an upset here is about as minute as ant dandruff. In fact, only five things are less likely than Auburn defeating Alabama:
1) The Israelis and the Palestinians get together, Netanhayu says, "let's hug it out, bitch" and the Gaza Strip fighting ends forever (+1 for Entourage reference);
2) Tim Tebow leads the Jets to the Super Bowl and wins it, starts dating Eva Longoria and renames his dog "Mark Sanchez"
3) Mary Kate Olsen brings back slap bracelets as a fashion, breaks her wrist demonstrating their uselfulness, thereby igniting a campaign "PAFCSWATUTDHL." People Against Former Child Stars With Anorexia Who Used To Date Heath Ledger.
4) Rural Southerners all look at each other and say, "You know, Mountain Dew has way too much sugar."
5) An Irishman drinks a Budweiser and says, "Ahhhh, that's what Willis was talkin' bout!"
I hope the Dawgs are ready for the Crimson juggernaut because that is what we will see. A strong running game, tough defense and a cutthroat coach who I'm convinced, pulled a Robert Johnson and sold his soul to the Devil on a dirt road in Mississippi. It will be a bloodbath and if we come out on top, then we will have reached the pinnacle. Until then, I am hushing about it all and keeping a quiet optimism. An optimism that I have not felt in my lifetime and one that I hope to feel again in the future. So, let's do it, Dawgs. Do it for yourselves. Do it for your parents, your coaches and your classmates. Do it for your hometown and your state. Do it for all the naysayers. Hush them forever. And lastly, for all us loyalists...those of us who have remained...those of us who came back no matter how grim it may have been. Those of us who lived for Saturdays in Athens or vicariously through Larry on AM 750 when we could not make it to the game. Do it for me and my brother, throwing the football on Hull Street in our Bugle Boys, re-enacting "Run Lindsay Run." For my folks. For Don and Cheryl, Todd and Michelle, Lynn and Chris, Tom and Lori...and all the other Bartow County diehards. For Jeremy, Vinny and Jemel...may our gameday text message train continue to Miami. And if we are on the grand stage in the end and Sugar falls from the Sky......I know it will be Larry and Lewis pouring it on us and oh, how sweet it will be.
No. My Dawgs are in control of their own destiny. We are like Alicia Silverstone after making "Clueless" or Michael Keaton after he made "Batman," we have the world at our fingertips, all we have to do is step up and take it. So, are we going to do it? Or are we going to disappear inexplicably like those people did? Seriously, Silverstone and Keaton were poised to be Hollywood mainstays and absolutely faded from existence in the 90's. You know it's bad when you have to post a picture of yourself regurgitating food into your baby's mouth for attention. I guess Michael Keaton will have to pull a Honey Badger....attack and eat a cobra's head off...to one-up that little stunt.
The game this weekend is the biggest home game that we have had in 30 years. Playing our arch-rival, on ESPN, while both teams are peaking. Well, I guess Georgia Tech can be considered "peaking," you do not get much lower than losing by 14 points at home to Middle Tennessee State. Yet, I am nervous. We have choked away games in the past to lesser opponents. Let's face it, nothing would make Tech happier than to ruin our shot at the BCS National Championship. The younger generation of Dawg fans do not consider Tech a rival anymore, considering that Richt is 10-1 against them and they have only beaten us once, fair and square, in the last twenty years. However, truth be told, they did beat us three years in a row in the late 90's, illegal players or not. I can say that losing to Tech is the most despicable and awful experience I have ever had as a Dawg fan. Nothing can prepare you for the unbridled jaw-jacking, Chicken Little-turned-Incredible Hulk attitude of the Tech fanbase after a win over us. In fact, there are only a few things in life that depressed me more than a loss to Tech:
1) Zack Morris and Kelly Kapowski breaking up on Prom Night because of her fling with Jeff, the new manager of The Max. Oh Jeff, how I hated you;
2) Cadbury Creme Eggs only existing in the United States during Easter;
3) The disappearance of Surge, the Coca-Cola drink that contained 12,876 grams of sugar;
4) The deaths of the lead singers of the Spin Doctors, Blind Melon and Sublime;
5) Side-spiking, Trapper Keepers and jean jackets were no longer cool.
Their fans screamed "To Hell With Georgia" during our alma mater and their players ripped apart our hedges after their 1998 victory. Then, in 1999, we had the phantom fumble. You would have thought that Tech singlehandedly ended Communism after that win. Another year of listening to smack talk from our in-state rivals from the ACC (Almost Competitive Conference). Believe me, it is a Hell that you do not want to endure. I would rather lose to Florida, Tennessee and Auburn every year. (oh wait, that was the 90's)
I have been thinking about the 90's frequently in the last few weeks. Being a Dawg fan was fun, but it was TOUGH. I remember losing to Southern Miss in 1996. Jim Donnan's first game. Some guy named Brett Favre ran all over the field, throwing impossible passes and sending us back to the locker room with an 11-7 loss. I remember Florida murdering us in Sanford Stadium in 1995 and Spurrier just smirking all game long. Tennessee reeling off nine straight wins, they could have beaten us with Jim Bob Cooter as their starter. (yes, he is a real person and he really played for Tennessee, google him) Vandy beat us at Homecoming in 1994, prompting my Dad to do the unthinkable with nine minutes to go in the fourth...."boys, pack it up because this train is going back to Cassville." Lots of 6-6 and 7-5 years, mediocrity and irrelevance. I also remember the good times. Beating Alabama at home in 1990 on a last second two-point conversion. The four-overtime victory over Auburn in 1996. The beating we gave the Gators in 1997. I will never forget Robert Edwards breaking for that first touchdown, running toward the St. John's River. You could feel the momentum as our sideline erupted. It was those moments that keep you coming back. No matter how angry they would make you, no matter how frustrating it was to watch us stumble week after week, we still packed up that blue and gold Chevy van and headed east out of Cassville at least 3 times every Fall. (I would sit in the back with my Walkman, my Collective Soul CD playing "Shine" over and over, admiring my thirteenth pair of Air Jordans and my tightrolled acid-washed Jordaches.)
We were diehards and still are to this day. I know plenty of people who hop from bandwagon to bandwagon. People who probably would have cheered for Japan in World War Two until the Navy crushed them at Midway and the Marines took Guadalcanal. It must be a tough life to be a turncoat but there are plenty out there. I guess that is the essence of human nature, it's easier to be part of a winner than to struggle with loss and hope to win. Seriously, how many random Texas Tech fans do you know? Now think of Alabama in the last four years, their "fanbase" in Georgia is coming out of the woodwork faster than Keith Marshall's forty time. I sure as hell do not remember them back in 2003, when Bama was at a low point, losing 30-0 at halftime in Athens with a terrible quarterback and a hopeless coach. They were either wearing Red and Black during their Georgia phase or still had not quite given up on Tennessee or Florida State. In any event, I have zero respect for that mindset. Loyalty obviously can be bought with wins, but I'd rather stick by my people. It would be like somebody asking me what my hometown is and I replied, "New York City." Yes, more interesting and important things have happened here. More influential and famous people have lived here. There is more money, more options, and more culture but there is no way, on God's green Earth, that I would ever turn my back on Cassville.
So begins the biggest triumvirate of games for us since Florida-Tech-Notre Dame in 1980. If we make it by Tech, we will likely meet Alabama for the SEC championship with the BCS title shot on the line. Alabama has to beat Auburn this weekend to lock in their spot. The likelihood of an upset here is about as minute as ant dandruff. In fact, only five things are less likely than Auburn defeating Alabama:
1) The Israelis and the Palestinians get together, Netanhayu says, "let's hug it out, bitch" and the Gaza Strip fighting ends forever (+1 for Entourage reference);
2) Tim Tebow leads the Jets to the Super Bowl and wins it, starts dating Eva Longoria and renames his dog "Mark Sanchez"
3) Mary Kate Olsen brings back slap bracelets as a fashion, breaks her wrist demonstrating their uselfulness, thereby igniting a campaign "PAFCSWATUTDHL." People Against Former Child Stars With Anorexia Who Used To Date Heath Ledger.
4) Rural Southerners all look at each other and say, "You know, Mountain Dew has way too much sugar."
5) An Irishman drinks a Budweiser and says, "Ahhhh, that's what Willis was talkin' bout!"
I hope the Dawgs are ready for the Crimson juggernaut because that is what we will see. A strong running game, tough defense and a cutthroat coach who I'm convinced, pulled a Robert Johnson and sold his soul to the Devil on a dirt road in Mississippi. It will be a bloodbath and if we come out on top, then we will have reached the pinnacle. Until then, I am hushing about it all and keeping a quiet optimism. An optimism that I have not felt in my lifetime and one that I hope to feel again in the future. So, let's do it, Dawgs. Do it for yourselves. Do it for your parents, your coaches and your classmates. Do it for your hometown and your state. Do it for all the naysayers. Hush them forever. And lastly, for all us loyalists...those of us who have remained...those of us who came back no matter how grim it may have been. Those of us who lived for Saturdays in Athens or vicariously through Larry on AM 750 when we could not make it to the game. Do it for me and my brother, throwing the football on Hull Street in our Bugle Boys, re-enacting "Run Lindsay Run." For my folks. For Don and Cheryl, Todd and Michelle, Lynn and Chris, Tom and Lori...and all the other Bartow County diehards. For Jeremy, Vinny and Jemel...may our gameday text message train continue to Miami. And if we are on the grand stage in the end and Sugar falls from the Sky......I know it will be Larry and Lewis pouring it on us and oh, how sweet it will be.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Recap of the Weekend: Irony, Auburn is Terrible and SEC East Champs, Baby
Irony is a very interesting concept because it exists everywhere. The physical world, people's emotions, states of mind, religion, politics, families, food, sports, Walking Dead Season 3, Auburn "graduation rates,"gluten free pizza....you name it, irony has its place somewhere within that framework. Authors have written entire novels based upon it. Plays have been acted out for the sole reason to illustrate the subject. People attend Georgia Tech on purpose to continue its existence. Irony can be very funny.
Junior Rosegreen wore #4 for the Auburn Tigers from 2001-2004. Ironically, that number was also his score on the famous Wonderlic test, which measures intelligence amongst NFL draftees. Just for a comparison, the highest score ever recorded was a 48 by Ryan Fitzpatrick of the Buffalo Bills. Congratulations Junior, you have the intelligence of rusty sheet metal.
Irony can also be sad.
General George Patton survived three wars only to die in a Jeep accident in Germany shortly after World War II ended. My grandfather survived North Africa, Sicily, Omaha Beach, the Battle of the Bulge and the crossing of the Rhine River, only to die forty years later in a farming accident. Carl, my grandfather's Army buddy, remarried my grandmother ten years later. He was killed in a farming accident as well, six years ago. (Funny: my grandma tells her doctor, "I've done killed two husbands." He looks at my mom in shock and mom just shakes her head.)
Irony can also produce anger along with solemn pride. I found this out last weekend. As I was riding the subway, I picked up a copy of the New York Daily News. The first page covered the flooding recovery and Obama's re-election, obvious topics that should have been covered last week. I flip to page two. There in bold print on the left hand side: "RACIST TWEETS FLOW OUT OF THE SOUTH." An entire article dedicated to pointing out the anonymous ramblings of internet rednecks and how much they hate Obama. The article cited some obscure website that compiled this information and of course, Alabama, Mississippi and Georgia were the main culprits. They even had a map of dots, outlining the locations within all 50 states where a "racist tweet" originated. First of all, I do not doubt that these tweets occurred. There are plenty of idiots out there (a small, small minority, mind you) and many of them appeared in non-Southern states. No mention of that, of course. Second, I find the use of the word "flow" to be in poor taste, considering the flooding that many just endured here. It made it sound like thousands upon thousands of Southerners were lining up behind their Iphones and desktops to reveal their inner Klansman. Third, for a liberal newspaper who obviously disagrees with such behavior, why empower these people by printing an article about them in the most populous city in the United States?
I believe the article was printed solely to cause angst and to achieve the "see, they are all a bunch of hicks" assurance to further disenfranchise Southerners. I stepped off the subway with a harsh attitude. I'm getting sick and tired of the divisiveness. Every time I step out of my door, I represent the people of Cassville and the state of Georgia. I take that seriously. White, black, male, female....regardless, I do my best to succeed with honor, obey the rules, help my fellow man, love my family and friends and do it all with a "how y'all doin?" attitude that has served me well. As I walked through Union Square, I noticed a familar sight. Row after row of shiny white Ford F-150's and F-250's parked all around the area. In fact, there were so many, you had to walk on the street to get around them. Security guards stood all around, making sure nobody messed with the trucks. Stamped on the side of each truck......."GEORGIA POWER" and "ALABAMA POWER." My chest filled with pride as I strode beside those trucks....looking at the plates....Coffee County, Polk County, Early County, Bibb County.....my people coming up here to do their part to help with hurricane relief. It was enough to put tears in my eyes. I sure as hell did not see an article about the Georgians "flowing" to New York and New Jersey to help out. I reckon the more things change, the more they stay the same. That's irony, y'all.
Speaking of Georgia, the Dawgs traveled to Auburn last weekend to play our final SEC regular season game and to drive the final nail in the coffin of Gene Chizik's career there. I could not help but feel good about this game beforehand because let's face it, Auburn has fallen to a whole new level of sorry and I love every dang second of it. I was not always this way. I, like many Dawg fans, will never forget the 2010 game and the antics of Cam Newton, Nick Fairley and Trooper Taylor. The dirty play. The outright thuggery that could have ended Aaron Murray's season and possibly his career. All the while, you see Chizik and Taylor celebrating on the sideline. I'm glad that Fairley and Newton are not doing so well in the NFL this season. I'm glad to see their failure. I detest the fact that Matthew Stafford calls Nick Fairley a "teammate." I wish Thomas Davis would ask for a trade so he wouldn't have to wear the same uniform as Newton. In fact, there's only a few things that I hate more than Auburn:
1) Car alarms in a parking deck
2) Running out of hot water in the shower
3) Al Qaeda
4) Pop Country
5) Jessie Spano (Yeah, i said it. She drove me nuts on Saved by the Bell. I'm glad she didn't get into Stansbury University)
The Pourhouse was full of Dawgs on this day, waiting for a bloodletting. It did not take long. After forcing a quick three-n-out, the Dawgs march right down their throats and Murray connects with Chris Conley for a score. He was dialed in all night and seemed really comfortable in the pocket. You see the Auburn crowd give up immediately. It was like a German walking into Paris in 1940 and saying "put your hands in the air" and the whole city fell apart. Their defense looked clueless out there. I must say that Van Gorder hire has been top notch for them, I mean seriously, they held Louisiana-Monroe to twenty eight points. If they got any better, they would be called Louisiana-Lafayette.
**Sidenote: Florida stole one from Lousiana-Lafayette on a lucky special teams play. At home. With a half full Swamp. If somebody yells out, "they are giving away free cannoli in Little Italy," it might get better...but I doubt it.
We kick it back to them and our defense just mauls them again. Auburn puts on a clinic of offensive futility. Air mailed screen passes. Sacks. Underthrown flag routes. Zero running game. Another punt and good ol' Rhett McGowan fair catches it. Rhett's from Calhoun and will always have my support. Honestly, we didn't need any punt returns. Murray does his best "I don't always throw touchdown passes, but when I do, I prefer to do it to Auburn" and we score with ease again. Malcolm Mitchell, Mr. Everything, with another touchdown on the year, making their secondary look foolish. (also making them look foolish....their names....Demetruce and T'Sharvan. C'mon.) Another kickoff and another brutal assault by our defense. Earlier this week, Chad Slade, one of Auburn's offensive linemen, made the remark that Jarvis Jones was not hard to block. Well, two sacks and two tackles for loss later, I guess that theory is out the window. Alec Ogletree went nuts once again, totaling 10 tackles and John Jenkins actually ate two Auburn players during the game. One of them was not Onterrio McCalebb, who has been on Auburn's team since 1976. (Also on Auburn's team for thirty years: Wes Byrum, the former kicker. I swear he was getting recruited while I was still drawing blue ducks on construction paper) (+1 for Billy Madison reference)
Tavarres King catches yet another touchdown. A beautiful throw to the corner by Murray and an amazing piece of footwork by King makes it 21-0. The TV cameras scan the Auburn crowd. I read their thoughts:
"Beer. Now."
"I hope my Toilet Bowl Cleansing test is cancelled on Monday."
"I need a hug...from my first cousin."
"(lost in thought, still trying to count to 21)"
More offensive (the adjective, not the verb) play by Auburn ensues. They actually never made it to the red zone once on Saturday. The one time they threatened, Shawn Williams lowered the boom on Emory Blake and he fumbled it away. Shawn Williams owns Emory Blake. He leveled him during Rambo's INT return last season, if you will recall. When Shawn Williams needs a beer, he gets one from Emory Blake's fridge. Christian Robinson also layeth the smacketh down upon Anthony Mason, who was also leveled by Quintavious Harrow on a kickoff last season. We have been doing a lot of leveling against Auburn and I love it.
Todd Gurley and Keith Marshall carved up their defense all night. Both had touchdown runs. Keith had a really nice one in the 3rd quarter, a 62 yarder that really made the crowd groan. He looked like Carl Lewis in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, dusting T'Sharvan and Demetruce all the way to the goal line. 289 yards rushing on the evening for the Dawgs, I like the sound of that. Hell, even Marshall Morgan was 100% for the night. I guess the only way it could have improved was if Trooper Taylor had been on the sidelines to witness it. He was held out because, rumor has it, he is leaving Auburn and was trying to convince several Auburn recruits to go with him. Whats the old saying about rats and ships? Maybe it's rats and dumpster fires? In any event, it was awesome to watch the medieval beating and then watch them writhe in agony during the fourth quarter. If y'all didn't notice, the first string defense stayed in for most of the game. You don't think they wanted this shutout? That 2010 is not still in their minds? You dang right it is. Onward to Georgia Southern and Georgia Tech. The SEC East belongs to us. Whether we taste Sugar falling from the Sky or possibly something bigger, it has been nice to see our guys play with fire.
Other highlights:
1) Alabama goes down, courtesy of Johnny Football and an ill timed offsides penalty. In the post game, it was rumored that Nick Saban ate a pound of fence staples, drank a gallon of hand sanitizer and called a priest to issue Last Rites for the six walk-ons he killed.
2) Oregon racked up 3,465 yards of offense in their victory over California. (Auburn people: consult people from Georgia, Florida, Alabama or Tennessee to figure out how much that is)
3) The South Carolina legislature has declared November their statewide "whining and what if" month. I guess if conference championships were based on the amount of times you play "Sandstorm" a game, y'all would have it.
4) One more piece of irony for you on this Veterans Day: Years ago, the Atlanta Journal printed an article indicating that of the servicemen who participated in World War II, 33% of them hailed from the South. That is astounding considering that only 10% of the population lived in the South at the time. Now.....THAT is a flow I can believe in.
Junior Rosegreen wore #4 for the Auburn Tigers from 2001-2004. Ironically, that number was also his score on the famous Wonderlic test, which measures intelligence amongst NFL draftees. Just for a comparison, the highest score ever recorded was a 48 by Ryan Fitzpatrick of the Buffalo Bills. Congratulations Junior, you have the intelligence of rusty sheet metal.
Irony can also be sad.
General George Patton survived three wars only to die in a Jeep accident in Germany shortly after World War II ended. My grandfather survived North Africa, Sicily, Omaha Beach, the Battle of the Bulge and the crossing of the Rhine River, only to die forty years later in a farming accident. Carl, my grandfather's Army buddy, remarried my grandmother ten years later. He was killed in a farming accident as well, six years ago. (Funny: my grandma tells her doctor, "I've done killed two husbands." He looks at my mom in shock and mom just shakes her head.)
Irony can also produce anger along with solemn pride. I found this out last weekend. As I was riding the subway, I picked up a copy of the New York Daily News. The first page covered the flooding recovery and Obama's re-election, obvious topics that should have been covered last week. I flip to page two. There in bold print on the left hand side: "RACIST TWEETS FLOW OUT OF THE SOUTH." An entire article dedicated to pointing out the anonymous ramblings of internet rednecks and how much they hate Obama. The article cited some obscure website that compiled this information and of course, Alabama, Mississippi and Georgia were the main culprits. They even had a map of dots, outlining the locations within all 50 states where a "racist tweet" originated. First of all, I do not doubt that these tweets occurred. There are plenty of idiots out there (a small, small minority, mind you) and many of them appeared in non-Southern states. No mention of that, of course. Second, I find the use of the word "flow" to be in poor taste, considering the flooding that many just endured here. It made it sound like thousands upon thousands of Southerners were lining up behind their Iphones and desktops to reveal their inner Klansman. Third, for a liberal newspaper who obviously disagrees with such behavior, why empower these people by printing an article about them in the most populous city in the United States?
I believe the article was printed solely to cause angst and to achieve the "see, they are all a bunch of hicks" assurance to further disenfranchise Southerners. I stepped off the subway with a harsh attitude. I'm getting sick and tired of the divisiveness. Every time I step out of my door, I represent the people of Cassville and the state of Georgia. I take that seriously. White, black, male, female....regardless, I do my best to succeed with honor, obey the rules, help my fellow man, love my family and friends and do it all with a "how y'all doin?" attitude that has served me well. As I walked through Union Square, I noticed a familar sight. Row after row of shiny white Ford F-150's and F-250's parked all around the area. In fact, there were so many, you had to walk on the street to get around them. Security guards stood all around, making sure nobody messed with the trucks. Stamped on the side of each truck......."GEORGIA POWER" and "ALABAMA POWER." My chest filled with pride as I strode beside those trucks....looking at the plates....Coffee County, Polk County, Early County, Bibb County.....my people coming up here to do their part to help with hurricane relief. It was enough to put tears in my eyes. I sure as hell did not see an article about the Georgians "flowing" to New York and New Jersey to help out. I reckon the more things change, the more they stay the same. That's irony, y'all.
Speaking of Georgia, the Dawgs traveled to Auburn last weekend to play our final SEC regular season game and to drive the final nail in the coffin of Gene Chizik's career there. I could not help but feel good about this game beforehand because let's face it, Auburn has fallen to a whole new level of sorry and I love every dang second of it. I was not always this way. I, like many Dawg fans, will never forget the 2010 game and the antics of Cam Newton, Nick Fairley and Trooper Taylor. The dirty play. The outright thuggery that could have ended Aaron Murray's season and possibly his career. All the while, you see Chizik and Taylor celebrating on the sideline. I'm glad that Fairley and Newton are not doing so well in the NFL this season. I'm glad to see their failure. I detest the fact that Matthew Stafford calls Nick Fairley a "teammate." I wish Thomas Davis would ask for a trade so he wouldn't have to wear the same uniform as Newton. In fact, there's only a few things that I hate more than Auburn:
1) Car alarms in a parking deck
2) Running out of hot water in the shower
3) Al Qaeda
4) Pop Country
5) Jessie Spano (Yeah, i said it. She drove me nuts on Saved by the Bell. I'm glad she didn't get into Stansbury University)
The Pourhouse was full of Dawgs on this day, waiting for a bloodletting. It did not take long. After forcing a quick three-n-out, the Dawgs march right down their throats and Murray connects with Chris Conley for a score. He was dialed in all night and seemed really comfortable in the pocket. You see the Auburn crowd give up immediately. It was like a German walking into Paris in 1940 and saying "put your hands in the air" and the whole city fell apart. Their defense looked clueless out there. I must say that Van Gorder hire has been top notch for them, I mean seriously, they held Louisiana-Monroe to twenty eight points. If they got any better, they would be called Louisiana-Lafayette.
**Sidenote: Florida stole one from Lousiana-Lafayette on a lucky special teams play. At home. With a half full Swamp. If somebody yells out, "they are giving away free cannoli in Little Italy," it might get better...but I doubt it.
We kick it back to them and our defense just mauls them again. Auburn puts on a clinic of offensive futility. Air mailed screen passes. Sacks. Underthrown flag routes. Zero running game. Another punt and good ol' Rhett McGowan fair catches it. Rhett's from Calhoun and will always have my support. Honestly, we didn't need any punt returns. Murray does his best "I don't always throw touchdown passes, but when I do, I prefer to do it to Auburn" and we score with ease again. Malcolm Mitchell, Mr. Everything, with another touchdown on the year, making their secondary look foolish. (also making them look foolish....their names....Demetruce and T'Sharvan. C'mon.) Another kickoff and another brutal assault by our defense. Earlier this week, Chad Slade, one of Auburn's offensive linemen, made the remark that Jarvis Jones was not hard to block. Well, two sacks and two tackles for loss later, I guess that theory is out the window. Alec Ogletree went nuts once again, totaling 10 tackles and John Jenkins actually ate two Auburn players during the game. One of them was not Onterrio McCalebb, who has been on Auburn's team since 1976. (Also on Auburn's team for thirty years: Wes Byrum, the former kicker. I swear he was getting recruited while I was still drawing blue ducks on construction paper) (+1 for Billy Madison reference)
Tavarres King catches yet another touchdown. A beautiful throw to the corner by Murray and an amazing piece of footwork by King makes it 21-0. The TV cameras scan the Auburn crowd. I read their thoughts:
"Beer. Now."
"I hope my Toilet Bowl Cleansing test is cancelled on Monday."
"I need a hug...from my first cousin."
"(lost in thought, still trying to count to 21)"
More offensive (the adjective, not the verb) play by Auburn ensues. They actually never made it to the red zone once on Saturday. The one time they threatened, Shawn Williams lowered the boom on Emory Blake and he fumbled it away. Shawn Williams owns Emory Blake. He leveled him during Rambo's INT return last season, if you will recall. When Shawn Williams needs a beer, he gets one from Emory Blake's fridge. Christian Robinson also layeth the smacketh down upon Anthony Mason, who was also leveled by Quintavious Harrow on a kickoff last season. We have been doing a lot of leveling against Auburn and I love it.
Todd Gurley and Keith Marshall carved up their defense all night. Both had touchdown runs. Keith had a really nice one in the 3rd quarter, a 62 yarder that really made the crowd groan. He looked like Carl Lewis in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, dusting T'Sharvan and Demetruce all the way to the goal line. 289 yards rushing on the evening for the Dawgs, I like the sound of that. Hell, even Marshall Morgan was 100% for the night. I guess the only way it could have improved was if Trooper Taylor had been on the sidelines to witness it. He was held out because, rumor has it, he is leaving Auburn and was trying to convince several Auburn recruits to go with him. Whats the old saying about rats and ships? Maybe it's rats and dumpster fires? In any event, it was awesome to watch the medieval beating and then watch them writhe in agony during the fourth quarter. If y'all didn't notice, the first string defense stayed in for most of the game. You don't think they wanted this shutout? That 2010 is not still in their minds? You dang right it is. Onward to Georgia Southern and Georgia Tech. The SEC East belongs to us. Whether we taste Sugar falling from the Sky or possibly something bigger, it has been nice to see our guys play with fire.
Other highlights:
1) Alabama goes down, courtesy of Johnny Football and an ill timed offsides penalty. In the post game, it was rumored that Nick Saban ate a pound of fence staples, drank a gallon of hand sanitizer and called a priest to issue Last Rites for the six walk-ons he killed.
2) Oregon racked up 3,465 yards of offense in their victory over California. (Auburn people: consult people from Georgia, Florida, Alabama or Tennessee to figure out how much that is)
3) The South Carolina legislature has declared November their statewide "whining and what if" month. I guess if conference championships were based on the amount of times you play "Sandstorm" a game, y'all would have it.
4) One more piece of irony for you on this Veterans Day: Years ago, the Atlanta Journal printed an article indicating that of the servicemen who participated in World War II, 33% of them hailed from the South. That is astounding considering that only 10% of the population lived in the South at the time. Now.....THAT is a flow I can believe in.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Recap of the Weekend: Stressful first quarters and Bruce Springsteen., two things I can live without.
Well, folks, life is returning to normal here in NYC. The subways are running and power is back on in most of the city. Sandy's impact was felt by millions of people, some more than others, across the Tri-State area. I must say that I applaud the efforts of Mayor Bloomberg, Governor Cuomo and Governor Christie during this week. For an area that was as unprepared for a hurricane as Georgia is for a blizzard, they did a wonderful job. New Yorkers and New Jersey folks are resilient people. The press has reported the recovery and cleanup pretty much 24/7 and the above mentioned men have held press conferences to keep us up to date. During one press conference with Governor Christie, a female reporter posed the question, "Governor, Bruce Springsteen says that he is very impressed with your efforts here and he thinks you have done a fantastic job helping New Jersey get back on its feet. How do you feel about that?" Governor Christie handled it well, made a joke about it, and moved on quickly. I'll sum up his comments, non-PC style:
"Ummmmmm, cool? Good GOD, woman! I couldn't care less what that liberal jackass thinks right now. The Atlantic City boardwalk is in the %^$^$ ocean!"
I thought it was a question posed in poor taste and it was yet another "sign of the apocalypse" in terms of moronic human behavior. Amidst the utter destruction that is the Jersey Shore, we still care about the thoughts and opinions of millionaires who live in another reality. I know Springsteen is from Jersey, but my goodness. Let's call Kim Kardashian and discuss the reopening of the subway. Get Angelina on the horn, I'd like to know her opinion about when New Jersey Transit should go back fulltime. Better yet, get Snooki, I'm sure she has some really intelligent thoughts on the engineering specifications of the new dikes that will need to be constructed after the flooding. Ugh. I'm going to stop talking now before I put my head through a window.
On a lighter note, the Rebels of Ole Miss rolled into Sanford this weekend, looking to extend their SEC win streak to 3 games. A couple of weeks ago, I opined that Ole Miss would give us a hard time and we would vastly underperform. After watching the first half, my summation appeared to be correct. Then, as if some awesomely incandescent light bulb came on, our offense went on the warpath and destroyed Ole Miss. Jekyll and Hyde University, that is the best description of the team this season. We bullrushed #2 Florida into 6 turnovers, made them look pedestrian, and ruined their season. We come out against Ole Miss, whose lone SEC victories include Auburn and Arkansas, and make them look like contenders for a half. I just don't get us sometimes, but I will take a 27-point win any day of the week.
We kick off and Ole Miss does not attempt a return, even though Blake Sailors was the only UGA player in the screen when the returner caught the ball. "Awesome, they are scared," I thought. Three plays later they are on our 25 yard line, courtesy of blown coverage. So much for them being scared. Their quarterback, Bo Wallace, is a tough cookie. I think he has transferred about 47 times but he seems to have found a home in Oxford. No, really. This guy went to Arkansas State and East Mississippi Community College before joining the Rebellion. I think there may have been a stop at Devry in there somewhere too. Anyhow, he threads the needle on a long pass and they end up with a field goal. Not the beginning I was looking for, but I was glad to hold them to three.
**Side note: I watched the Florida-Missouri.....game? It was as entertaining as watching gravel in my old driveway. I could not help but notice the empty seats in the Swamp. I guess they were too busy repainting their red wood decks to show up. Florida did its best to give Missouri the game and just completely bury themselves. Too bad for Missouri that James Franklin is absolutely terrible. Seriously, that guy could not hit a double wide if he was an F5 tornado.
We get the ball and instantly go into what I like to call "Georgia Tech" mode. That's when you suck beyond belief, can do nothing right, and cause even the hardest of diehards to question why they watch the game. Murray is sacked twice and we go three and out. The defensive end from Ole Miss abuses John Theus with aplomb and Dallas Lee does his best "Ole!!!!!" impression and Murray pops up with that damn "deer in the headlights" look. Three and out. Throwing into double coverage. False starts. It looked like an 8 and under game, I fully expected to see Kenarious Gates drawing pictures in the grass with his cleats and ask to go to the bathroom in the middle of a play. Ole Miss gets the ball and scores a touchdown on a tackle-eligible trick play to make it 10-0. The CBS announcers start with the "uh oh" talk and they show Hugh Freeze on the sidelines going nuts. I calmly walk to my bar in the apartment, pour a glass of Johnnie Walker, and stew on my couch. The Pourhouse has no power, we are losing 10-0 and I see a bunch of Florida chatter on Facebook..."Go Rebs," "Dawgs goin down," and "Over-rated!" I logged on to Delta.com to analyze whether I could fly down to Athens and get there before the game ended. I was going to re-enact a scene I saw after we lost to LSU in 2009. A drunken fan, in his anger, confronted Mike Bobo walking out of the press box and said, "why can't we just f***** beat somebody?!?" He repeated himself over and over. Bobo screamed obscenities at the man and he was removed from the stadium by police. I honestly had the same question. I was prepared to ask it after the first quarter yesterday.
The second quarter saw one of the craziest minutes of football I have ever witnessed. In a scene reminiscent of "The Longest Yard," there were four turnovers in six plays. Keith Marshall fumbles and gives it to Ole Miss in our territory. Two plays later, Ole Miss fumbles and Damian Swann runs it back to their 30. Two plays later, Todd Gurley fumbles and Ole Miss recovers. Then, Bo Wallace throws a 50 yard bomb, unfortunately for him, his receiver was 60 yards downfield and Alec Ogletree intercepts. Despite this video game action, we manage two touchdowns in the quarter to take the lead. Murray does his best David Greene, hides the ball on a fake handoff and finds a wide open Marlon Brown for six. Then, before the half, he hits Tavares King on a forty yarder that gives us a 14-10 lead. You feel the tide turning and the Rebs seemed spent going into the locker room. Although I felt better, the lack of urgency from the team really disturbed me. These "coming out flat" games are getting old.
Well, if the first half was flat, then the second half was a beach ball inflated to the size of Pine Log, Georgia. Murray absolutely roasted their secondary. 384 yards and it could have been more if Richt had not backed off in the fourth quarter. Malcolm Mitchell scored on a pass with about 12 minutes to go in the 3rd quarter and you could watch Ole Miss literally start packing up on the sideline. By the time the quarter ended, Ole Miss was already in Cullman, Alabama in their minds. The defense clamped down hard and Wallace ran for his life. The little screen plays that worked in the first half were snuffed out. Alec Ogletree was all over the field. He had 11 tackles and caused a safety with about a minute to go in the 3rd. Jarvis was his usual disruptive self. Damian Swann gets better each week, that guy just seems to be in the right spot all the time. Ole Miss's defense, on the other hand, was the opposite of clamped down. They were a leaky O-ring that burst and their proverbial septic tank filled their backyard, the backhoe operator called in sick and they were downwind all weekend. Zander Ogletree, Alec's twin brother, scored his first career touchdown. He has filled in for Merrit Hall nicely. Rantavious Wooten, in a moment of clarity, actually caught a pass for a touchdown. Wooten has been synonymous with dropped passes. In fact, there are only a few things I am more sure of than a Wooten drop during a UGA game:
1) Keith Richards is going to light a cigarette one day and just disappear in a cloud of smoke and methadone resin. (this also applies to Ozzy Osborne, Dickie Betts and possibly Gregg Allman)
2) Jay Cutler will frown when his kid is born and say, "Damn, took you long enough."
3) The Falcons will lose a game and everybody will fall off the bandwagon so hard that Jim Cantore will show up in Atlanta to report the earthquake.
4) I WILL NOT watch Honey Boo Boo.
5) Georgia Tech will listen to "Call Me Maybe" and have a towel fight in the shower after practice this week.
In any event, we did extremely well in the second half and any Dawg fan would have to feel optimistic about our chances to return to Atlanta. We just have to get through Auburn, who is limping through a terrible season and will likely lose 137-0 to Alabama in a few weeks. Gene Chizik was actually seen scoping properties in Charlotte so he can be closer to Cam and ride his coattails some more. Cam is having a tough time these days, so riding his coattails might be harder with people like Patrick Willis battering him into submission every week. It warms the heart, it really does.
So, we move on to the Plains soon. We will be without Marlon Brown, who tore his ACL, thereby ending his UGA career. Thanks for the memories, Marlon. Personally, I hope we slap a giant nail in the coffin of the Auburn Tigers. I don't want Richt to let up. I don't want the game to get out of hand, I want it to get of the the stratosphere. They will be upset minded but if we come out clicking on all cylinders, I expect a beatdown. Plenty of recruits will be there and they need to see that Auburn is nothing more than Clemson with a lake and a fight song they stole from us. Go Dawgs!
Other highlights:
1) I attended the first professional sports event in Brooklyn, NY since the Dodgers left. It's not often you get to be part of history, but I was. I guess this is how Auburn feels right now, they are making history for so many people right now.
2) Alabama/LSU was the bloodbath that everyone expected. McCarron showed real poise in leading the Tide down the field in 1:30 to win the game in the most hostile stadium in college football. I always enjoy when the TV cameras pan the crowd in Baton Rouge, I swear I saw one guy eating a truck tire.
3) Kansas State and Oregon have an outside shot to play for the national championship. Could you imagine? "Let's go boys, dozens of people are ready to watch the game." (+1 for League of Their Own reference) Let's hope for the sake of fans everywhere that this does not happen. That would be like a World Series between Toronto and Cleveland, people would purposefully have to do laundry every night just so they wouldn't have to watch it.
"Ummmmmm, cool? Good GOD, woman! I couldn't care less what that liberal jackass thinks right now. The Atlantic City boardwalk is in the %^$^$ ocean!"
I thought it was a question posed in poor taste and it was yet another "sign of the apocalypse" in terms of moronic human behavior. Amidst the utter destruction that is the Jersey Shore, we still care about the thoughts and opinions of millionaires who live in another reality. I know Springsteen is from Jersey, but my goodness. Let's call Kim Kardashian and discuss the reopening of the subway. Get Angelina on the horn, I'd like to know her opinion about when New Jersey Transit should go back fulltime. Better yet, get Snooki, I'm sure she has some really intelligent thoughts on the engineering specifications of the new dikes that will need to be constructed after the flooding. Ugh. I'm going to stop talking now before I put my head through a window.
On a lighter note, the Rebels of Ole Miss rolled into Sanford this weekend, looking to extend their SEC win streak to 3 games. A couple of weeks ago, I opined that Ole Miss would give us a hard time and we would vastly underperform. After watching the first half, my summation appeared to be correct. Then, as if some awesomely incandescent light bulb came on, our offense went on the warpath and destroyed Ole Miss. Jekyll and Hyde University, that is the best description of the team this season. We bullrushed #2 Florida into 6 turnovers, made them look pedestrian, and ruined their season. We come out against Ole Miss, whose lone SEC victories include Auburn and Arkansas, and make them look like contenders for a half. I just don't get us sometimes, but I will take a 27-point win any day of the week.
We kick off and Ole Miss does not attempt a return, even though Blake Sailors was the only UGA player in the screen when the returner caught the ball. "Awesome, they are scared," I thought. Three plays later they are on our 25 yard line, courtesy of blown coverage. So much for them being scared. Their quarterback, Bo Wallace, is a tough cookie. I think he has transferred about 47 times but he seems to have found a home in Oxford. No, really. This guy went to Arkansas State and East Mississippi Community College before joining the Rebellion. I think there may have been a stop at Devry in there somewhere too. Anyhow, he threads the needle on a long pass and they end up with a field goal. Not the beginning I was looking for, but I was glad to hold them to three.
**Side note: I watched the Florida-Missouri.....game? It was as entertaining as watching gravel in my old driveway. I could not help but notice the empty seats in the Swamp. I guess they were too busy repainting their red wood decks to show up. Florida did its best to give Missouri the game and just completely bury themselves. Too bad for Missouri that James Franklin is absolutely terrible. Seriously, that guy could not hit a double wide if he was an F5 tornado.
We get the ball and instantly go into what I like to call "Georgia Tech" mode. That's when you suck beyond belief, can do nothing right, and cause even the hardest of diehards to question why they watch the game. Murray is sacked twice and we go three and out. The defensive end from Ole Miss abuses John Theus with aplomb and Dallas Lee does his best "Ole!!!!!" impression and Murray pops up with that damn "deer in the headlights" look. Three and out. Throwing into double coverage. False starts. It looked like an 8 and under game, I fully expected to see Kenarious Gates drawing pictures in the grass with his cleats and ask to go to the bathroom in the middle of a play. Ole Miss gets the ball and scores a touchdown on a tackle-eligible trick play to make it 10-0. The CBS announcers start with the "uh oh" talk and they show Hugh Freeze on the sidelines going nuts. I calmly walk to my bar in the apartment, pour a glass of Johnnie Walker, and stew on my couch. The Pourhouse has no power, we are losing 10-0 and I see a bunch of Florida chatter on Facebook..."Go Rebs," "Dawgs goin down," and "Over-rated!" I logged on to Delta.com to analyze whether I could fly down to Athens and get there before the game ended. I was going to re-enact a scene I saw after we lost to LSU in 2009. A drunken fan, in his anger, confronted Mike Bobo walking out of the press box and said, "why can't we just f***** beat somebody?!?" He repeated himself over and over. Bobo screamed obscenities at the man and he was removed from the stadium by police. I honestly had the same question. I was prepared to ask it after the first quarter yesterday.
The second quarter saw one of the craziest minutes of football I have ever witnessed. In a scene reminiscent of "The Longest Yard," there were four turnovers in six plays. Keith Marshall fumbles and gives it to Ole Miss in our territory. Two plays later, Ole Miss fumbles and Damian Swann runs it back to their 30. Two plays later, Todd Gurley fumbles and Ole Miss recovers. Then, Bo Wallace throws a 50 yard bomb, unfortunately for him, his receiver was 60 yards downfield and Alec Ogletree intercepts. Despite this video game action, we manage two touchdowns in the quarter to take the lead. Murray does his best David Greene, hides the ball on a fake handoff and finds a wide open Marlon Brown for six. Then, before the half, he hits Tavares King on a forty yarder that gives us a 14-10 lead. You feel the tide turning and the Rebs seemed spent going into the locker room. Although I felt better, the lack of urgency from the team really disturbed me. These "coming out flat" games are getting old.
Well, if the first half was flat, then the second half was a beach ball inflated to the size of Pine Log, Georgia. Murray absolutely roasted their secondary. 384 yards and it could have been more if Richt had not backed off in the fourth quarter. Malcolm Mitchell scored on a pass with about 12 minutes to go in the 3rd quarter and you could watch Ole Miss literally start packing up on the sideline. By the time the quarter ended, Ole Miss was already in Cullman, Alabama in their minds. The defense clamped down hard and Wallace ran for his life. The little screen plays that worked in the first half were snuffed out. Alec Ogletree was all over the field. He had 11 tackles and caused a safety with about a minute to go in the 3rd. Jarvis was his usual disruptive self. Damian Swann gets better each week, that guy just seems to be in the right spot all the time. Ole Miss's defense, on the other hand, was the opposite of clamped down. They were a leaky O-ring that burst and their proverbial septic tank filled their backyard, the backhoe operator called in sick and they were downwind all weekend. Zander Ogletree, Alec's twin brother, scored his first career touchdown. He has filled in for Merrit Hall nicely. Rantavious Wooten, in a moment of clarity, actually caught a pass for a touchdown. Wooten has been synonymous with dropped passes. In fact, there are only a few things I am more sure of than a Wooten drop during a UGA game:
1) Keith Richards is going to light a cigarette one day and just disappear in a cloud of smoke and methadone resin. (this also applies to Ozzy Osborne, Dickie Betts and possibly Gregg Allman)
2) Jay Cutler will frown when his kid is born and say, "Damn, took you long enough."
3) The Falcons will lose a game and everybody will fall off the bandwagon so hard that Jim Cantore will show up in Atlanta to report the earthquake.
4) I WILL NOT watch Honey Boo Boo.
5) Georgia Tech will listen to "Call Me Maybe" and have a towel fight in the shower after practice this week.
In any event, we did extremely well in the second half and any Dawg fan would have to feel optimistic about our chances to return to Atlanta. We just have to get through Auburn, who is limping through a terrible season and will likely lose 137-0 to Alabama in a few weeks. Gene Chizik was actually seen scoping properties in Charlotte so he can be closer to Cam and ride his coattails some more. Cam is having a tough time these days, so riding his coattails might be harder with people like Patrick Willis battering him into submission every week. It warms the heart, it really does.
So, we move on to the Plains soon. We will be without Marlon Brown, who tore his ACL, thereby ending his UGA career. Thanks for the memories, Marlon. Personally, I hope we slap a giant nail in the coffin of the Auburn Tigers. I don't want Richt to let up. I don't want the game to get out of hand, I want it to get of the the stratosphere. They will be upset minded but if we come out clicking on all cylinders, I expect a beatdown. Plenty of recruits will be there and they need to see that Auburn is nothing more than Clemson with a lake and a fight song they stole from us. Go Dawgs!
Other highlights:
1) I attended the first professional sports event in Brooklyn, NY since the Dodgers left. It's not often you get to be part of history, but I was. I guess this is how Auburn feels right now, they are making history for so many people right now.
2) Alabama/LSU was the bloodbath that everyone expected. McCarron showed real poise in leading the Tide down the field in 1:30 to win the game in the most hostile stadium in college football. I always enjoy when the TV cameras pan the crowd in Baton Rouge, I swear I saw one guy eating a truck tire.
3) Kansas State and Oregon have an outside shot to play for the national championship. Could you imagine? "Let's go boys, dozens of people are ready to watch the game." (+1 for League of Their Own reference) Let's hope for the sake of fans everywhere that this does not happen. That would be like a World Series between Toronto and Cleveland, people would purposefully have to do laundry every night just so they wouldn't have to watch it.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Recap of the Weekend: Full expectations, hurricanes, tornadoes and Dawgs back in the saddle.
I suppose y'all are aware of the current weather situation we are facing here in NYC. Fear not, my fellow Georgians. After dealing with 6,743 tornadoes, a blizzard, hurricanes coming out of the Gulf and people from Cassville/Adairsville/Pine Log all my life, I'm basically prepared for anything. I have canned goods, water, flashlights, candles, charged Ipads with 11,298 songs and two bottles of Gentleman Jack. In fact, I've already been singing tributes to our fair maiden approaching from the South, as her winds pick up on my street.
"Sandy, you're a fine girl, what a good wife you would be"
"Sandy, Sandy...when will those clouds disappear?"
"Sandy, what you gonna do, I think I could stay with you"
I always felt like tornadoes were much worse, to be honest. They are much more unpredictable and their power, while short-lived, is concentrated insanity. In the South, tornadoes are part of life. Every March and April, you have to watch the skies. If you recorded movies off the television in the 90's, I guarantee that at least half of them had a tornado warning running across the bottom of the screen. I'll never forget listening to the radio during power outages, usually 102.3 out of Rome:
"Alright y'all, we got us a report of a touchdown in the Chulio Road area, everybody down yonder needs to take cover."
We knew that it was time to go into hiding. That area was directly in line with Cassville and the whole family would pile up in a closet and hope it wasn't our turn. Honestly, that is all you can do. We did it so many times in the 90's that it became like clockwork. I would trot down the hall, "walking the mile, walking the mile." (+1 for Green Mile reference) Tornadoes get shortchanged in terms of weather notoriety, though. Why? They don't have names. Every hurricane and tropical storm gets a handle. In fact, there have been people who have complained that the names of these storms are not ethnic enough. Seriously, google it. If you have time to bitch about the racial indifference of the names of a large collection of cumulonimbus clouds in the Atlantic Ocean, then you need a hobby or need to get hit over the head by a tack hammer, because you are a moron. (+1 for Tommy Boy reference) I started naming tornadoes in 1994. No longer would I stand by and allow this injustice to permeate Southern culture. Of course, I keep them Cassville-centric in name and nature.
"You think that tornado was bad? Y'all should have seen Shane in June or Chastity in May, them storms were rough, y'all. I swear, when Dwayne blew through here last August, I thought for sure we would be getting a new deck."
I am going to ride this storm out in style. However, I know Sandy is serious for one reason, and one reason only.....Jim Cantore is here. He reported from Battery Park last night and I swear I saw drool coming out of his mouth when he described the possible damage she is going to do. Jim Cantore is the homing beacon of bad weather and when he comes to your hometown, you know bad things are about to happen. He was in Georgia last April when the tornadoes decimated parts of Bartow County. He was in Alabama. He was in New Orleans. When the Apocalypse comes, Jim Cantore will be there, telling Satan to get out of his shot of the rivers running red and the frogs raining down from the sky.
Speaking of hurricanes, Category 5 Hurricane Jarvis blew into Jacksonville, Florida last Saturday with a vengeance. He laid waste to the Florida Gators, causing havoc and mayhem, doing damage and left the landscape completely flattened in a three hour assault of epic proportions. This storm was completely unexpected by the white trash Gainesville natives and their double wides floated down the St. John's River, along with their perfect season, their dignity, half of Jeff Driskel's brain cells, and Will Muschamp's medulla oblongata, which fell out after six post game aneurysms. Few wins have been more enjoyable. Few times have I wished harm upon opposing players more than on Saturday. Luckily, our boys obliged my bloodthirst and came at Florida unlike I had ever seen before, at least defensively.
We set the tone early, when Kosta "The Greek Streak II" Vavlas waylaid their kickoff return man on the first play. You could tell we were fired up. Florida instantly got a false start penalty, had a bad snap and went three and out. We get the ball and march right down their throats and score on a great run by Gurley. I thought to myself, "could we actually do this?" Then I remembered all the big games we had lost in the last four years and tempered myself. I remembered the beating we took from Bama in 2008. The 6-7 2010 season. Getting killed by LSU in the SEC Championship after leading at the half. We are preordained to lose this one. As Florida marched right down the field, my suspicions got confirmed with each first down. Driskel, while erratic, was doing pretty well against us and I thought, "here we go again." We force a fourth and one, however, on our 21 yard line. The Gators line up to go for it and you can tell this is one of those plays that can define a game. I just knew they would bust a 10 yarder and break our backs right there....
Shawn Williams. That name will ring forever if this season turns out to be a great one. He took the reigns earlier this week and called the defense out for being "soft." In a public interview, he lambasted our own people, some by name and others were implied. He even threw a verbal jab at the coaches for playing the wrong people. He is a senior from Damascus, Georgia with nothing to lose, so why not? Nothing he said was false. Nothing he said was embellished. All you had to do was look at our performance against Carolina and Kentucky to verify it. Well, apparently Shawn Williams struck a nerve. A big one. Not just with the entire defense, but with himself as well. On the fourth and one, Florida sweeps to the left and pitches to a receiver entrusted with the ball to get that one yard. As the play develops, you could see his hole. "Oh damn, he's going to get exactly one yard and keep this drive alive," I thought. The blockers were in place and he was headed to the marker. Suddenly, Shawn Williams shucks his blocker and darts right up to their receiver, grabs him around the neck and tackles him so violently that the Florida trainers spent the next five minutes wrapping his ribs in dressing, apparently some of them were broken. He was one inch short. He was also out for the game and another Florida lineman limped off the field on the same play. I watched the kids from the same dirt roads that I grew up on...kids from Damascus, Columbus, Keysville, Donalsonville, and Valdosta running off the field, telling Florida, "this ain't the 90's anymore." (I just got a chill typing this) Will Muschamp had a mini stroke on the sidelines and they looked panicked. Ripe for the picking.
Aaron Murray tried his best to give the game away in the first half. The defense was killing Florida, absolutely bullying them into early submission. They could do nothing. Luckily for them, #11 was playing another one of his "deer in the headlights" games and keeping them alive. Three interceptions in the first half. All terrible throws, all markers of Murray choking to death in the spotlight once again. He was 0-6 against top ten teams going into Saturday and this day was looking no different. The pass to Jay Rome was into triple coverage. The pass to Wooten was thrown 100 mph behind him. The other pass to Brown was so far over his head that the Marines launched a Harrier Jet and flew over the Stadium to assess any threats to public safety. Thank God for Todd Gurley and the offensive line, who played amazingly all night. The fact this game was even close is ALL on Murray and some ill-timed drops by the receivers. I fully expected Shawn Williams to walk up to Aaron, bite his head off ala Ozzy Osbourne, and tell Hutson Mason to go in.
Despite the colossal failures of Murray, we still led. Driskel was getting pounded. They fumbled time and time again. Their offensive line was mauled by our defense. Rambo and Swann had huge interceptions. We had some serious fire tonight. Devin Bowman got called for a stupid personal foul and was met on the sidelines by Todd Grantham. I have rarely seen an ass chewing more animated, more frightening and more motivational than that one. Although I have questioned Richt's fire, I have never questioned Grantham's. In fact, the pregame brouhaha that CBS reported before kickoff? Grantham was going after their strength coach. I love that man. The players love him too because they know he will back them up, regardless of anything. Every challenge issued by Florida was met with force. Guys were making plays all over the field. Branden Smith, Garrison Smith and Mike Gilliard all had great performances. Jenkins and Geathers swallowed the middle whole and their rinky dink Wildcat plays were useless. Herrera and Jones teed off on Gillislee. Jordan Reed was the only Gator who was hurting us. He just kept making big catches.
In the fourth quarter, leading 10-9, I assessed the possibility of victory. Neither offense could get out of their own way. Our defense was much better than theirs. Their kicker was better than ours though. I felt sick. 12-10 Gators would just suck beyond all belief. Marshall Morgan is about as dependable as a fence built out of pool noodles. He did make one, but missed an easy one late in the game. I fully expected Shawn Williams to bitehis head off, bury him in a swamp in Kingsland, Georgia after the game and tell Jamie Lindley to kick for the rest of the season. Fortunately for us, Murray stopped making mistakes. He did not take over the game but he stopped killing us. 150 yards passing is not blowing anybody's skirt up. With 8:30 to go, Murray starts finding open men. To his defense, King, Brown and Lynch had big drops earlier. King especially was bad, he was WIDE OPEN on a third down and just flat dropped it and forced a punt. Malcom Mitchell made a catch on Purifoy, Florida's best and most talkative cover man. It was Purifoy that conned Bowman into his stupid penalty. Once again, he gets one of our guys to get emotional and the flag comes out. Mitchell costs us 15 yards and negates his gain on the play. I thought Shawn Williams was going to bite his head off, quarter him and send him to the four corners of Georgia as a warning to others. (+1 for Braveheart reference)
With 7:11 to go, Murray takes the snap and drops back and finds Mitchell, fresh off his ass chewing from Richt and Williams, who catches the ball. He spins out of Purifoy's grasp and sprints down the sideline. The Florida secondary closes the angles but Malcolm cuts to the middle, breaks two tackles, and finds the end zone for the game's second touchdown. It was one of the best plays of the season. The game is not over, but we were feeling pretty good. By "we" I mean the wonderful people I watched the game with, my family and friends from Cartersville, Georgia. I made an improptu trip to Cassville and got to watch the game with them. These are the people with who I have enjoyed the good times and suffered through the bad in terms of Georgia football. It was a celebration on Burnt Hickory Road. There was talk of jumping in a nearby creek. I volunteered to lead the way...I miss creeks.
Anyhow, Florida gets the ball with us leading 17-9. They are just simply inept with the ball. Driskel is feeling the pounding he had taken all game. Jarvis Jones had been all over him. Cornelius Washington, Alec Ogletree, Christian Robinson and the linebacking corps really closed the middle of the field. On this drive, they are gaining yards and getting too close. Gillislee finally gets a decent run. Driskel picks up a first down on a run that was slower developing than Auburn's math department. They creep into our territory and my nerves are frayed. Please God, no overtime. They pan into the stands and show the Florida "faithful" chomping away. I use "faithful" in quotes because they absolutely disappear when things go wrong for the Gators. No fanbase has a more selective memory than Florida. No fanbase backs out quicker than Florida. (except for the alumni, the Florida alums I know are very respectable people and diehards) When Jordan Reed catches the pass on the twelve and breaks the tackle, I just cringe. He is on the three and inexplicably jumps toward the end zone, as he flies through the air, Jarvis Jones tomahawks the ball right out of his hands and he fumbles into the end zone. Sanders Commings falls on the ball. The deal is sealed. One more perfect season goes own the tubes and it's not us circling the drain for a change.Gurley fittingly closed Florida out with a 16 yard run, dragging three tacklers and setting our bench off into a frenzy.
So, here we are. We won a big game. I'm ecstatic over this victory and I'm eating crow right now with a side of hot sauce, It does not change my feelings about Richt completely, but apparently we CAN come alive and we CAN beat somebody worth beating. Will this lead to anything? Who knows? We must handle business against Ole Miss and Auburn in order to get back to Atlanta. This will take sustained intensity, which we have not been able to muster in awhile. I fully expect us to be in Atlanta, however. As a diehard, I cannot be any other way. I also fully expect to see Alabama there, so we MUST be at our best or it will be ugly. If we somehow get to Atlanta and pull off the impossible, I fully expect Shawn Williams to get the game ball regardless of anything or anyone. Take solace, though, Mr. Williams, because no matter what happens, I'm naming my next tornado after you. Go Dawgs!
Monday, October 15, 2012
You can't run with the Big Dawg, he's under the porch with the fleas.
Normally, when the Dawgs are off for a weekend, I peruse the Dawgvent and discuss the upcoming games and what our chances are going forward. The Vent is usually rife with diehards like me, talking recruiting, injuries, who needs the week off to recover and where to tailgate at the next away game. Other SEC games are watched and picked apart: "We could run the ball on Florida," "LSU's offense is suspect," or "Auburn is downright terrible or Ole Miss will be harder to handle than we thought." Thread after thread, anticipating the next game....asking the "what ifs" and everybody going to Stubhub and Ticketmaster to preemptively check SEC Championship ticket prices.
That did not happen this weekend. In fact, I never logged on to the Dawgvent on Saturday, nor did I watch a second of the LSU/Carolina game. I watched a few plays of the Ole Miss/Auburn game to cheer on my brother's alma mater and luckily, they were able to pull it out. Oh great, I thought, another game where we will probably struggle. The Dawgs play Ole Miss this year at home. A game that was a clear victory two weeks ago is no more. They have a mobile quarterback and quick little running back that can take it to the house at any point. They "dink and dunk" you to death.....a concept that our defense cannot seem to grasp. I'm betting money that Ole Miss gives us pure hell in Athens and the game will be another in a long line of frustrating underperformances.
Think back to West Virginia in 2005. Total disaster. Remember Mississippi State in 2009? Tennessee and Carolina in 2007? Alabama in 2008. Vandy. Kentucky. Central Florida. The god-awful loss to Tech at home in 2008. Hell, I remember one year, we beat UAB 13-10 on a late field goal at home and Middle Tennessee State was in doubt until the fourth quarter. Troy stayed right with us at home in 2007. On several occasions, I have walked out of Sanford after a win and it felt LIKE WE LOST. We get people on the ropes, pull back and let them right back in the game. This has become one of our calling cards. Our other calling card is even worse....hit us in the mouth early and we fold up like a cheap tent. Since 2005, we truthfully have had ONE season worth talking about. Anyone who refutes this is living in a dream world, works for the University or recently received a lobotomy.
Being the diehard football junkie I am, I did some research though. I know we are all quick to blame the coaches. History and statistics show that we are not totally off base on that stance. Think about Alabama in 2003-2007, buried by probation and a severe lack of talent on the field and on the coaching staff. They were awful. We crushed them in Athens in 2003, they were painfully inept and Thomas Davis almost killed Spencer Pennington that day. Nobody in their right mind would predict they would have two more national titles in 2012. Mal Moore went out and got the right man for the job and everything changed. Urban Meyer at Florida, same story. Les Miles at LSU. Sleeping giants were awakened at those schools and our giant...well....he's hit the snooze button about 25 times in the last eight years.
I examined our recruiting numbers since 2004. While doing this, I uncovered some extremely disturbing trends, foolhardy decisions, and just downright negligence on the part of our coaching staff. However, I also figured out that many players washed out on their own and no amount of coaching could have saved them. The number of players who were non-contributors over the last seven years is astounding. You do not have to wonder when and where we have gone wrong....it's like Billy told me in Cassville once, "if you can't see that, you're blinder than a bat in a coal mine." Want glaring statistic?
From 2005-2008, we had 18 offensive linemen commit. Of those 18, four of them never played a snap. One of those four was our ONLY offensive line commitment of 2005. Of the remaining fourteen, Ben Harden and Kevin Perez never saw the field other than mop up duty against Western Oklahoma Tech. AJ Harmon and Tanner Strickland transferred and retired from football, respectively. Trinton Sturdivant tore his ACL twice. Scott Haverkamp transferred back to Kansas after one year. Kiante Tripp switched to defense. That leaves seven offensive lineman for four years of recruiting that actually stayed and finished their careers at UGA: Ben Jones (success), Chris Davis (serviceable), Josh Davis (project who only caught on in his senior year), Clint Boling (success), Cordy Glenn (success), Vince Vance (a JUCO transfer who only played two years) and Justin Anderson (started but never lived up to the hype out of HS). Ouch.
Want another one?
Since 2004, we have had FORTY-ONE players leave, transfer, head to JUCO and flunk out, get dismissed or get thrown completely out of school. Many of these guys never saw the field once. I am not counting the O-linemen above, nor am I counting the guys who quit due to injury. (i.e. Bryce Ros, Quintin Banks, Antavious Coates) That's more people than Tech has fans. That's higher than an Auburn fan can count. Forty-one people who smoked, drank, rear-ended & license-suspended, punched, kicked and clawed their way right out of school. Suddenly, the slide of our program is not so far-fetched, is it? We are recruiting morons with no discipline, fools who cannot spell "shotgun" and idiots who cannot get out of their own way. While our fanbase points fingers and laughs at other programs, maybe we should look in the damn mirror. Or maybe they hide it better? Who knows? The numbers do not lie.
"The SEC is a line of scrimmage league," says Will Muschamp, the head coach of the Florida Gators. While I hate to agree with a vile traitor like Muschamp, a UGA alumnus who disparaged his alma mater when he took the Florida job, I must acknowledge the accuracy of that statement. Looking at these numbers, we are coming to the line of scrimmage completely shorthanded. It's a wonder we have won half of the games we played. Where we are not shorthanded, we have underachievers with no coaching. Remember Brandon Miller? Reshad Jones? Probably not. They were five-star recruits who drastically underachieved in their UGA career. Miller, because he was out of position and Jones, because he was not coached and an undisciplined player who was good for 2-3 personal fouls a game. However, they were ALL we had. Their backups were packing their bags to move to Alabama State or suspended for a parking ticket on their moped.
Right now, we have a true freshman starting on the offensive line. He is doing well, but he could have used a year to grow up. Our center is playing his first meaningful snaps. Our left tackle has been moved at least twice in his career and he was abused by South Carolina. We couldn't sub anyone in for him because there was nobody to take his place. We already have one redshirt freshman offensive lineman that Coach Will Friend has basically cast aside as a bust. We started the year missing two All-Americans on defense who simply cannot behave themselves, their draft stock be damned. I guess smoking grass and partying is better than $2,000,000 a year in the NFL. Where we were supposed to be strong, we are not. When we were supposed to grow up, we regressed. When we had the spotlight, we caved and the men who recruited these players stand idly by, hoping for someone else to lose so we can climb back into the race. That is no way to run a winning program in this conference, where you cannot win on talent alone.
Face it Dawg fans, we have hit the wall of complacency like a runaway Mack truck. If you are happy with 9-3 and the Capital One Bowl, then more power to you. Our rivals will raid our state, take every good player we have and bomb us back to the 90's. I wrote a pointed, yet respectful letter to our Athletic Director last season regarding these feelings. His response was essentially "get behind Richt or jump off the ship." Newsflash: I am behind my school, not a person. If they cannot understand that and we remain on this path, it's going to be a long decade, y'all. We have already lost six players from the 2010 class and five from the 2011 class. I hope and pray we turn this around soon and we go back to our winning ways. Until then I say good luck to the Dawgs....
All 37 of them.
That did not happen this weekend. In fact, I never logged on to the Dawgvent on Saturday, nor did I watch a second of the LSU/Carolina game. I watched a few plays of the Ole Miss/Auburn game to cheer on my brother's alma mater and luckily, they were able to pull it out. Oh great, I thought, another game where we will probably struggle. The Dawgs play Ole Miss this year at home. A game that was a clear victory two weeks ago is no more. They have a mobile quarterback and quick little running back that can take it to the house at any point. They "dink and dunk" you to death.....a concept that our defense cannot seem to grasp. I'm betting money that Ole Miss gives us pure hell in Athens and the game will be another in a long line of frustrating underperformances.
Think back to West Virginia in 2005. Total disaster. Remember Mississippi State in 2009? Tennessee and Carolina in 2007? Alabama in 2008. Vandy. Kentucky. Central Florida. The god-awful loss to Tech at home in 2008. Hell, I remember one year, we beat UAB 13-10 on a late field goal at home and Middle Tennessee State was in doubt until the fourth quarter. Troy stayed right with us at home in 2007. On several occasions, I have walked out of Sanford after a win and it felt LIKE WE LOST. We get people on the ropes, pull back and let them right back in the game. This has become one of our calling cards. Our other calling card is even worse....hit us in the mouth early and we fold up like a cheap tent. Since 2005, we truthfully have had ONE season worth talking about. Anyone who refutes this is living in a dream world, works for the University or recently received a lobotomy.
Being the diehard football junkie I am, I did some research though. I know we are all quick to blame the coaches. History and statistics show that we are not totally off base on that stance. Think about Alabama in 2003-2007, buried by probation and a severe lack of talent on the field and on the coaching staff. They were awful. We crushed them in Athens in 2003, they were painfully inept and Thomas Davis almost killed Spencer Pennington that day. Nobody in their right mind would predict they would have two more national titles in 2012. Mal Moore went out and got the right man for the job and everything changed. Urban Meyer at Florida, same story. Les Miles at LSU. Sleeping giants were awakened at those schools and our giant...well....he's hit the snooze button about 25 times in the last eight years.
I examined our recruiting numbers since 2004. While doing this, I uncovered some extremely disturbing trends, foolhardy decisions, and just downright negligence on the part of our coaching staff. However, I also figured out that many players washed out on their own and no amount of coaching could have saved them. The number of players who were non-contributors over the last seven years is astounding. You do not have to wonder when and where we have gone wrong....it's like Billy told me in Cassville once, "if you can't see that, you're blinder than a bat in a coal mine." Want glaring statistic?
From 2005-2008, we had 18 offensive linemen commit. Of those 18, four of them never played a snap. One of those four was our ONLY offensive line commitment of 2005. Of the remaining fourteen, Ben Harden and Kevin Perez never saw the field other than mop up duty against Western Oklahoma Tech. AJ Harmon and Tanner Strickland transferred and retired from football, respectively. Trinton Sturdivant tore his ACL twice. Scott Haverkamp transferred back to Kansas after one year. Kiante Tripp switched to defense. That leaves seven offensive lineman for four years of recruiting that actually stayed and finished their careers at UGA: Ben Jones (success), Chris Davis (serviceable), Josh Davis (project who only caught on in his senior year), Clint Boling (success), Cordy Glenn (success), Vince Vance (a JUCO transfer who only played two years) and Justin Anderson (started but never lived up to the hype out of HS). Ouch.
Want another one?
Since 2004, we have had FORTY-ONE players leave, transfer, head to JUCO and flunk out, get dismissed or get thrown completely out of school. Many of these guys never saw the field once. I am not counting the O-linemen above, nor am I counting the guys who quit due to injury. (i.e. Bryce Ros, Quintin Banks, Antavious Coates) That's more people than Tech has fans. That's higher than an Auburn fan can count. Forty-one people who smoked, drank, rear-ended & license-suspended, punched, kicked and clawed their way right out of school. Suddenly, the slide of our program is not so far-fetched, is it? We are recruiting morons with no discipline, fools who cannot spell "shotgun" and idiots who cannot get out of their own way. While our fanbase points fingers and laughs at other programs, maybe we should look in the damn mirror. Or maybe they hide it better? Who knows? The numbers do not lie.
"The SEC is a line of scrimmage league," says Will Muschamp, the head coach of the Florida Gators. While I hate to agree with a vile traitor like Muschamp, a UGA alumnus who disparaged his alma mater when he took the Florida job, I must acknowledge the accuracy of that statement. Looking at these numbers, we are coming to the line of scrimmage completely shorthanded. It's a wonder we have won half of the games we played. Where we are not shorthanded, we have underachievers with no coaching. Remember Brandon Miller? Reshad Jones? Probably not. They were five-star recruits who drastically underachieved in their UGA career. Miller, because he was out of position and Jones, because he was not coached and an undisciplined player who was good for 2-3 personal fouls a game. However, they were ALL we had. Their backups were packing their bags to move to Alabama State or suspended for a parking ticket on their moped.
Right now, we have a true freshman starting on the offensive line. He is doing well, but he could have used a year to grow up. Our center is playing his first meaningful snaps. Our left tackle has been moved at least twice in his career and he was abused by South Carolina. We couldn't sub anyone in for him because there was nobody to take his place. We already have one redshirt freshman offensive lineman that Coach Will Friend has basically cast aside as a bust. We started the year missing two All-Americans on defense who simply cannot behave themselves, their draft stock be damned. I guess smoking grass and partying is better than $2,000,000 a year in the NFL. Where we were supposed to be strong, we are not. When we were supposed to grow up, we regressed. When we had the spotlight, we caved and the men who recruited these players stand idly by, hoping for someone else to lose so we can climb back into the race. That is no way to run a winning program in this conference, where you cannot win on talent alone.
Face it Dawg fans, we have hit the wall of complacency like a runaway Mack truck. If you are happy with 9-3 and the Capital One Bowl, then more power to you. Our rivals will raid our state, take every good player we have and bomb us back to the 90's. I wrote a pointed, yet respectful letter to our Athletic Director last season regarding these feelings. His response was essentially "get behind Richt or jump off the ship." Newsflash: I am behind my school, not a person. If they cannot understand that and we remain on this path, it's going to be a long decade, y'all. We have already lost six players from the 2010 class and five from the 2011 class. I hope and pray we turn this around soon and we go back to our winning ways. Until then I say good luck to the Dawgs....
All 37 of them.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Recap of the Weekend: The loss of hope and generic tequila makes Bradley a dull boy
Nothing hurts worse than the loss of hope. Hope is the driving force that keeps us alive. Well, that and Nutella, but I digress. Hope carries us to new heights, hope restores us on bad days and hope makes life worth living, even when it may not be. Rarely have I experienced the complete loss of hope in my life, I am one of those that hangs on forever, til the bitter end....I'd be that last guy at Pickett's Charge saying "we got this!"
**Side note: I went to Gettysburg two years ago and walked the exact path of Pickett's Charge. 600 yards of open ground with no cover, outnumbered and outgunned. It's like driving a car made of balsa wood in the wrong direction down I-75 at rush hour. Robert E. Lee had an "Auburn" moment that day, I've surmised. Just an inordinate, inexplicable amount of stupidity.
I lost hope Saturday, completely and utterly. I have been disappointed before watching UGA losses. 2002 Florida. 2004 Tennessee. 2007 Tennessee. 2008 Bama. All of those games were heartbreaking, games you look back on and want to punch random inanimate objects. This Saturday's loss however, tops them all. My hope for UGA football climbed to the top of the Empire State Building and took a header into a garbage truck owned by some morally casual Italians named Sal and Tony. Then it was compacted in said garbage truck, shipped off to the landfill in New Jersey, where two homeless guys use it for a toilet. "Wow, that's a little extreme," you might think. Well, when you see an entire team quit on national television, I don't think there is any room for anything other than extreme.
I listened to all the talk. I believed we were ready.
"Win it for Bennett!"
"Statement game."
"Coming out party."
"Gurshall for Heisman."
"Spurrier has gout, he's out for the season."
The Pourhouse was excited. People were buzzing beforehand, excited that Florida won so our big showdown with them in three weeks would be epic. One for the ages. "I can't wait to see Muschamp's face when we whup their asses!" one guy remarked. "I'm glad we got Murray and not Mettenberger!" another replied. A confidence brimming over with the $1.00 Bud Light special and a week's worth of fluff from all the sportscasters predicting that UGA's offense would win the day. I could hear Longstreet telling the doomed soldiers of Pickett's Brigade:
"Gentlemen, tomorrow is our day. Disregard their superior numbers. Disregard your lack of footwear. Disregard the lack of cover. Disregard the grapeshot coming from their cannons. Just believe."
We kickoff and you can tell Williams-Brice is absolutely erupting. They get the ball and march it right down our throats. Five plays and two and a half minutes. Our All-American brownie eater, Bacarri Rambo, had an interception stolen right out of his hands on the second play. Our line provided zero push. Their quarterback, a Georgian named Connor Shaw, had a field day against our pathetic secondary. His pass to Bruce Ellington for the first score was so wide open that Shawn Williams might has well have been standing in Athens on that play. I say to myself, "Harumph. Inauspicious beginning. We will bounce back." A sneaking suspicion told me that we would not, though.
The only bouncing I saw was the ball off Kelcy Quarles's hand on Murray's second pass, right into the waiting hands of their linebacker. Murray had an awful night, one of the worst performances I have ever seen by a three year starter. He had that look from his freshman year again. When I saw that look, I knew we were done. It's the look I mentioned last week. It's the look I have seen at least 2-3 times a season since he took over as quarterback. It's the "holy $#@# we are losing" mouth opened stare that spells disaster. He didn't get much help from his supporting cast either. Wooten dropped the 75th pass of his career. Kenarious Gates got flat out abused by Jadeveon Clowney. This guy ran his mouth all week and backed it up. Kudos to him.....the chocolate chip Kudos that tasted so good. (c'mon 90's kids, you had a box of Kudos a week. I know I did) If we are giving Kudos to Clowney, then our O-line gets Kashi. A bowl of Kashi with no milk. Kashi is a disgusting, organic concoction that has an aftertaste like potting soil. (Believe me I know, I accidentally ate plenty of it at Cass Grocery hauling it around) Our line was physically manhandled all night. Carolina brought the heat and we wilted like a plastic bag in a campfire at Rock Creek in Blue Ridge.
Carolina scored again, quickly. Shaw found his tight end, once again, so open that he could have tweeted "I Luv My Momma #soufcrackalacky" and Moonwalked into the corner. He was also from the state of Georgia. It was 14-0 in about five minutes. Some angst reared its head in the Pourhouse. They showed the replay. Amarlo Herrera must have forgotten where he was or was worried about his Physics test on Monday, because he was about twelve steps slow on the play. Speaking of twelve steps, I think some people at the Pourhouse took their first of twelve on this night. One kid was drinking straight from the pitcher, talking about how much he was sick of Bobo, Richt, Obama, the elevator in his building, global warming, Al Gore and the price of cigarettes. I saw one group do three tequila shots a piece and then stare angrily at the bar. Usually, when Jose Cuervo introduces himself at a party, good things happen and the chances of dark secrets being made increases. Not tonight. It was angry drinking, with generic tequila and the only dark secret lingering this night was "just where on I-85 did our football get off the bus?"
We get the ball back and punt almost immediately. Bobo ran his patented "let's give us no chance to gain a first down" offense and Collin Barber came in to kick it away after about 17 seconds of offensive futility. The ball careened through the night sky into the arms of Ace Sanders. He drops it and picks it up and runs straight up the middle. A couple of walk-ons almost made the tackle and they would have, if they had been in the same zip code as Sanders. He dashed untouched for another score. Our horrendous special teams play continues and it is 21-0. The Carolina fanbase is beside themselves. ESPN is kicking themselves for picking up this debacle. UGA players are playing with themselves on the sideline and the coaching staff is standing by themselves, exposed in a garnet spotlight of unprepared, uninspired football that officially derailed our season. The rest of the game is of no consequence. They scored fourteen more. We scored a meaningless touchdown with two minutes to go. Murray overthrew everything and everyone. Our receivers could not catch a bullet in the ass during a Mexican gang fight over a brick of meth. Gurley and Marshall ran hard, but with very few holes, it was all for naught. Their offensive line "bullied" our defensive line. They held us against our locker and gave us an "Indian Rug Burn" and called us fat nerds. As far as our secondary goes, the only words that come to mind are "porous," "Swiss cheese," "cardboard cutout" and "sticky icky." All the while, Spurrier just smirked. He knew.
Why was this loss different? Why do I feel different than when Tennessee stole our national championship hopes in 2004? Or when DJ Shockley's only pass against Florida in 2002 cost us that game and another national championship shot? Because my hope is gone, it's officially broken. Back then, I would chalk it up to one thing or another and move on. Back then, I felt like we were on the brink of a great run. Flash forward to last Saturday, I realized that I can no longer, in my heart of hearts, invest any more emotion or belief that we will ever be successful under Mark Richt. We have the most favorable schedule that we've had in YEARS. We have upperclassmen everywhere. Our coaches are all seasoned veterans. All-Americans, Heisman hopefuls, freshman phenoms....and yet, we are reduced to a footnote once again by virtue of a 35-7 shellacking by a school that we used to count as a victory every season. Out-everythinged by a much tougher, better coached group of players, most of which I have never even heard of. Who the hell is DJ Swearinger? Akeem Auguste? Courtney Taylor? 6-0 is what they are. I don't know what we are.
So, we continue on to Kentucky. I've never been happier for an off week and less captivated by the remainder of a season since Ray Goff. Who cares now? We had the biggest stage in college football and the only performances I can remember that have been worse than ours are:
1) Roseanne Barr's rendition of the Star Spangled Banner
2) Keanu Reeves in "Feeling Minnesota"
3) Bill Clinton's "definition of is" rambling that reduced my brain to ashes
4) Adam Sandler movies post-2004
5) The dinner scene in Twister when everyone drops their forks when Jamie Gertz says "F5"
To quote Remember the Titans: "Attitude reflect(s) leadership, Captain." We have no leader, plain and simple. That ship has sailed. It sailed into the Bermuda Triangle and is in the Twilight Zone with Jimmy Hoffa, Ted Williams's frozen head and Christian Slater's acting career. I will never hate Coach Richt and I am thankful for what he has done. He brought us back from the worst decade in the history of our school. However, if we continue on this path, I'll be thanking the next coach for the very same thing.
**Side note: I went to Gettysburg two years ago and walked the exact path of Pickett's Charge. 600 yards of open ground with no cover, outnumbered and outgunned. It's like driving a car made of balsa wood in the wrong direction down I-75 at rush hour. Robert E. Lee had an "Auburn" moment that day, I've surmised. Just an inordinate, inexplicable amount of stupidity.
I lost hope Saturday, completely and utterly. I have been disappointed before watching UGA losses. 2002 Florida. 2004 Tennessee. 2007 Tennessee. 2008 Bama. All of those games were heartbreaking, games you look back on and want to punch random inanimate objects. This Saturday's loss however, tops them all. My hope for UGA football climbed to the top of the Empire State Building and took a header into a garbage truck owned by some morally casual Italians named Sal and Tony. Then it was compacted in said garbage truck, shipped off to the landfill in New Jersey, where two homeless guys use it for a toilet. "Wow, that's a little extreme," you might think. Well, when you see an entire team quit on national television, I don't think there is any room for anything other than extreme.
I listened to all the talk. I believed we were ready.
"Win it for Bennett!"
"Statement game."
"Coming out party."
"Gurshall for Heisman."
"Spurrier has gout, he's out for the season."
The Pourhouse was excited. People were buzzing beforehand, excited that Florida won so our big showdown with them in three weeks would be epic. One for the ages. "I can't wait to see Muschamp's face when we whup their asses!" one guy remarked. "I'm glad we got Murray and not Mettenberger!" another replied. A confidence brimming over with the $1.00 Bud Light special and a week's worth of fluff from all the sportscasters predicting that UGA's offense would win the day. I could hear Longstreet telling the doomed soldiers of Pickett's Brigade:
"Gentlemen, tomorrow is our day. Disregard their superior numbers. Disregard your lack of footwear. Disregard the lack of cover. Disregard the grapeshot coming from their cannons. Just believe."
We kickoff and you can tell Williams-Brice is absolutely erupting. They get the ball and march it right down our throats. Five plays and two and a half minutes. Our All-American brownie eater, Bacarri Rambo, had an interception stolen right out of his hands on the second play. Our line provided zero push. Their quarterback, a Georgian named Connor Shaw, had a field day against our pathetic secondary. His pass to Bruce Ellington for the first score was so wide open that Shawn Williams might has well have been standing in Athens on that play. I say to myself, "Harumph. Inauspicious beginning. We will bounce back." A sneaking suspicion told me that we would not, though.
The only bouncing I saw was the ball off Kelcy Quarles's hand on Murray's second pass, right into the waiting hands of their linebacker. Murray had an awful night, one of the worst performances I have ever seen by a three year starter. He had that look from his freshman year again. When I saw that look, I knew we were done. It's the look I mentioned last week. It's the look I have seen at least 2-3 times a season since he took over as quarterback. It's the "holy $#@# we are losing" mouth opened stare that spells disaster. He didn't get much help from his supporting cast either. Wooten dropped the 75th pass of his career. Kenarious Gates got flat out abused by Jadeveon Clowney. This guy ran his mouth all week and backed it up. Kudos to him.....the chocolate chip Kudos that tasted so good. (c'mon 90's kids, you had a box of Kudos a week. I know I did) If we are giving Kudos to Clowney, then our O-line gets Kashi. A bowl of Kashi with no milk. Kashi is a disgusting, organic concoction that has an aftertaste like potting soil. (Believe me I know, I accidentally ate plenty of it at Cass Grocery hauling it around) Our line was physically manhandled all night. Carolina brought the heat and we wilted like a plastic bag in a campfire at Rock Creek in Blue Ridge.
Carolina scored again, quickly. Shaw found his tight end, once again, so open that he could have tweeted "I Luv My Momma #soufcrackalacky" and Moonwalked into the corner. He was also from the state of Georgia. It was 14-0 in about five minutes. Some angst reared its head in the Pourhouse. They showed the replay. Amarlo Herrera must have forgotten where he was or was worried about his Physics test on Monday, because he was about twelve steps slow on the play. Speaking of twelve steps, I think some people at the Pourhouse took their first of twelve on this night. One kid was drinking straight from the pitcher, talking about how much he was sick of Bobo, Richt, Obama, the elevator in his building, global warming, Al Gore and the price of cigarettes. I saw one group do three tequila shots a piece and then stare angrily at the bar. Usually, when Jose Cuervo introduces himself at a party, good things happen and the chances of dark secrets being made increases. Not tonight. It was angry drinking, with generic tequila and the only dark secret lingering this night was "just where on I-85 did our football get off the bus?"
We get the ball back and punt almost immediately. Bobo ran his patented "let's give us no chance to gain a first down" offense and Collin Barber came in to kick it away after about 17 seconds of offensive futility. The ball careened through the night sky into the arms of Ace Sanders. He drops it and picks it up and runs straight up the middle. A couple of walk-ons almost made the tackle and they would have, if they had been in the same zip code as Sanders. He dashed untouched for another score. Our horrendous special teams play continues and it is 21-0. The Carolina fanbase is beside themselves. ESPN is kicking themselves for picking up this debacle. UGA players are playing with themselves on the sideline and the coaching staff is standing by themselves, exposed in a garnet spotlight of unprepared, uninspired football that officially derailed our season. The rest of the game is of no consequence. They scored fourteen more. We scored a meaningless touchdown with two minutes to go. Murray overthrew everything and everyone. Our receivers could not catch a bullet in the ass during a Mexican gang fight over a brick of meth. Gurley and Marshall ran hard, but with very few holes, it was all for naught. Their offensive line "bullied" our defensive line. They held us against our locker and gave us an "Indian Rug Burn" and called us fat nerds. As far as our secondary goes, the only words that come to mind are "porous," "Swiss cheese," "cardboard cutout" and "sticky icky." All the while, Spurrier just smirked. He knew.
Why was this loss different? Why do I feel different than when Tennessee stole our national championship hopes in 2004? Or when DJ Shockley's only pass against Florida in 2002 cost us that game and another national championship shot? Because my hope is gone, it's officially broken. Back then, I would chalk it up to one thing or another and move on. Back then, I felt like we were on the brink of a great run. Flash forward to last Saturday, I realized that I can no longer, in my heart of hearts, invest any more emotion or belief that we will ever be successful under Mark Richt. We have the most favorable schedule that we've had in YEARS. We have upperclassmen everywhere. Our coaches are all seasoned veterans. All-Americans, Heisman hopefuls, freshman phenoms....and yet, we are reduced to a footnote once again by virtue of a 35-7 shellacking by a school that we used to count as a victory every season. Out-everythinged by a much tougher, better coached group of players, most of which I have never even heard of. Who the hell is DJ Swearinger? Akeem Auguste? Courtney Taylor? 6-0 is what they are. I don't know what we are.
So, we continue on to Kentucky. I've never been happier for an off week and less captivated by the remainder of a season since Ray Goff. Who cares now? We had the biggest stage in college football and the only performances I can remember that have been worse than ours are:
1) Roseanne Barr's rendition of the Star Spangled Banner
2) Keanu Reeves in "Feeling Minnesota"
3) Bill Clinton's "definition of is" rambling that reduced my brain to ashes
4) Adam Sandler movies post-2004
5) The dinner scene in Twister when everyone drops their forks when Jamie Gertz says "F5"
To quote Remember the Titans: "Attitude reflect(s) leadership, Captain." We have no leader, plain and simple. That ship has sailed. It sailed into the Bermuda Triangle and is in the Twilight Zone with Jimmy Hoffa, Ted Williams's frozen head and Christian Slater's acting career. I will never hate Coach Richt and I am thankful for what he has done. He brought us back from the worst decade in the history of our school. However, if we continue on this path, I'll be thanking the next coach for the very same thing.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Recap of the Weekend: Dawgs win by the skin of our whatchamcallit
First of all, let me apologize to my loyal readers about the lack of UGA football posts. Frankly, the games have been rather inconsequential to this point. The closest game we have had since the season started was the 41-20 beating we gave Missouri. We clobbered FAU and Vandy like they stole something, most people at the Pourhouse stopped watching those games and started talking about more important things, like the best sushi on the Lower East Side or how slow the "R" train has been during the latest construction. The FAU game was the biggest snoozer of all, in fact, I think the Pourhouse had to buy ESPN Gameplan to get it on the television. Have you ever watched a regional ESPN Gameplan broadcast? It looks like one of those old home videos my brother and I used to make in the early 90's. You get motion sickness from the awesome camera work and the announcers sound like the guys who also commentate for Smoky Mountain Wrestling.
This weekend was slightly different, however. We finally got a primetime TV slot on a big network, playing a heated rival at home. Recipe for success, right? As I walked to the Pourhouse, I walked through a "Free Palestine" protest in Union Square. One guy had a sign that said, "Take Palestine back from the baby-killing spawn of Satan" or something to that effect. It's always nice to see New Yorkers enjoying their weekends. I can think of nothing better than to get off work on Friday and tell my family, "Kids, instead of going to Central Park and playing baseball tomorrow, let's say we go down to Union Square and blatantly offend people we don't like? Yay!!!!" I swear, get over yourselves, you live in the greatest city in the world. If you want to be pissed off about something that is thousands of miles away, be mad that the moon is not made of spare ribs. (+1 for SNL reference)
We piled into the Pourhouse and realized that the bar was split in half, as Virginia Tech also calls the bar "home" for their alumni. They had a riveting matchup against Cincinnati and a capacity crowd of 22 people filled the other half of the bar. I swear I heard a mouse sneeze over there during the third quarter. Anyhow, we affixed our posteriors in our usual spot and awaited kickoff. Quentin (aka Qdoba to me) and I were discussing that if we did not turn the ball over, we would massacre the Cheeto-colored heathens from the Smoky Mountains without much trouble. For some reason, I just did not feel great about the game from the get-go. Something was amiss. Can these people, who have to go to Dollywood for fun, beat us at home? Can these people, who apparently do not get drunk enough orally, upset this whole thing for us?
Our freshman running backs decided to make this game their personal track meet. "Gurshall," to which they are affectionately being referred, made a mockery of the UT defense all day. Gurley dragged guys all over the field and Keith Marshall broke two runs that made UT's secondary look like the Falcons on Tecmo Bowl. The Falcons were always terrible on Tecmo Bowl. I always played as the Raiders and would handoff to Bo Jackson. Just run Bo to the right and hold down "A." I would win 76-0 every time. Keith did his best Bo Jackson-Tecmo Bowl impersonation on his first touchdown. He just decided he was going to score, and it was so. The safety came near him and it was like Keanu Reeves in the Matrix stopping bullets.....he held out his hand and calmly said "No." We were up big in the blink of an eye, the only glaring mistake was Murray's interception. I felt my body relax and we all toasted to the Dawgs and our apparent victory that was going to be easier than finding a funnel cake in Pigeon Forge.
Wrong. In 4:30, Tennessee scored 20 points. Four-%^$**((&*((&UJH&& minutes and thirty ^&%**&& seconds. I asked Qdoba, "did we have a stroke after that last touchdown?" First, Malcolm Mitchell misplays a punt and puts us in a hole. This is getting to be a common occurence with him. Bobo does his patented "let's telegraph what we are going to do" offensive scheme and Tennessee gets great field position. They score with relative ease. Then Murray fumbles on a sack and AJ Johnson recovers for Tennessee. Easy score. Then Marshall fumbles and they recover. Another easy score. Gurley mishandles a kickoff. Marshall Morgan proved that the crossbar in Athens does indeed have a bullseye on it. The defensive backs are getting beat repeatedly. Murray gets that freshman "what the hell is happening" face and Richt's facial expression says, "Ya know, maybe I should cut the grass tomorrow. No, I'll let Kathryn do it. Then maybe we will get ice cream. Yeah, ice cream." I was beside myself and Qdoba was worried that I was going to headbutt our table in half. In 4:30, I can do the following activities:
1) Run 4/5 of a mile.
2) Eat seven hot dogs and a whole plate of fusilli from Angelo's in Little Italy
3) Ride the subway for forty blocks
4) Try to watch the news without vomiting
5) Learn and master the "stanky leg" dance
Tennessee can apparently score three touchdowns. Chagrin and shenanigans. Luckily, Artie Lynch came up big with a huge catch and somehow, by the grace of God, Zeus, Poseidon, the Wizard of Oz and C-3PO, Marshall Morgan made a 50 yard field goal. (C3PO was a god to the Ewoks, don't act like you forgot) Halftime was 30-30 and it should have been 42-10. I grumbled and went to the restroom. I checked in on the Virginia Tech game as I went back. They were playing Monopoly and Yahtzee with mimosas in hand, so I left them alone. Seriously, I did not want my eyes scratched out by interrupting a chick who is about to buy Marvin Gardens with two hotels. You just don't want that kind of trouble. However, I cannot help but point out a great ACC moment from the day: The bar let out a roar when the score from the Georgia Tech game appeared on the screen. Beaten at home by three touchdowns by the University of Murfreesboro-West Nashville. Congratulations Middle Tennessee State, you gained about 94,000 new fans on Saturday. Tech, please keep Paul Johnson forever. Purty, please? It's like having Reggie Ball back on the Flats and he's giving us free pizza to boot.
As I devoured the calamari ordered by Qdoba, I contemplated the second half. I thought about the fight between Cole Trickle and Harry Hogge on Days of Thunder. Randy Quaid said one of the best lines ever, which cannot be repeated here, but it sums up my feelings about the second quarter. The defense needed to step up and special teams had to wake up. As we trotted back out, I felt a little better. Murray had a determined look and Grantham appeared as if he had just eaten a truck tire with chains on it, so I knew we would be fired up. The offense was superb and Murray was finding guys everywhere. Bennett. Brown. Rome. King. Catch after catch they made in traffic, wide open, slanting, posting, hooking, flagging, Riverdancing......you name it. I have to point out King's effort in the first quarter when he dragged AJ Johnson four yards and almost scored. That was an NFL play right there. In the second half, we looked so crisp. Marshall and Gurley ripped UT's heart out with run after run, just abusing their linebackers and secondary. Michael Bennett caught two awesome passes for touchdowns. Our defensive line was the weak point on this day. John Jenkins, Abry Jones, Kwame Geathers and Cornelius Washington were no-shows. UT's linemen blew them up all game, we got no push and Bray can throw the damn football. That guy is scary and I'm glad he's gone after this year. Neal, their subpar running back, did his best Reggie Cobb impression. (90's Dawg fans will remember this guy. He KILLED us every time we played.) Our linebackers played fair but it seemed as if they were a step slow. Luckily for us, Sanders Commings and Damian Swann came to play. Three turnovers by Tennessee doomed them, just as three turnovers by us let their sorry butts back in the game. It does not matter how fast and talented you are, if you put the ball on the ground and you cannot kick, you can lose to anyone. Just ask Tech. (except Tech is not talented, fast, good, smart, athletic, worthwhile or relevant.)
Now we draw Carolina, an away game against a 6-0 opponent who had to come back to beat Kentucky and almost lost to Vandy. See? Anybody can have an off day. We had ours and we survived. Let's leave it at that and prepare for a bloodbath against the impostor, SEC coattail-riding Lamecocks. A team that has accomplished next to nothing in their history. A school that has one conference championship in their ENTIRE history: the 1969 ACC Championship. A school that is most famous for hosting a fake football team, the ESU Wolves, in their stadium. (+1 for The Program reference) I can see Jarvis Jones in the film room now:
Coach: "Jarvis, what do you do on this play?"
Jarvis: "Hit the tight end so hard his girlfriend dies."
Go Dawgs.
This weekend was slightly different, however. We finally got a primetime TV slot on a big network, playing a heated rival at home. Recipe for success, right? As I walked to the Pourhouse, I walked through a "Free Palestine" protest in Union Square. One guy had a sign that said, "Take Palestine back from the baby-killing spawn of Satan" or something to that effect. It's always nice to see New Yorkers enjoying their weekends. I can think of nothing better than to get off work on Friday and tell my family, "Kids, instead of going to Central Park and playing baseball tomorrow, let's say we go down to Union Square and blatantly offend people we don't like? Yay!!!!" I swear, get over yourselves, you live in the greatest city in the world. If you want to be pissed off about something that is thousands of miles away, be mad that the moon is not made of spare ribs. (+1 for SNL reference)
We piled into the Pourhouse and realized that the bar was split in half, as Virginia Tech also calls the bar "home" for their alumni. They had a riveting matchup against Cincinnati and a capacity crowd of 22 people filled the other half of the bar. I swear I heard a mouse sneeze over there during the third quarter. Anyhow, we affixed our posteriors in our usual spot and awaited kickoff. Quentin (aka Qdoba to me) and I were discussing that if we did not turn the ball over, we would massacre the Cheeto-colored heathens from the Smoky Mountains without much trouble. For some reason, I just did not feel great about the game from the get-go. Something was amiss. Can these people, who have to go to Dollywood for fun, beat us at home? Can these people, who apparently do not get drunk enough orally, upset this whole thing for us?
Our freshman running backs decided to make this game their personal track meet. "Gurshall," to which they are affectionately being referred, made a mockery of the UT defense all day. Gurley dragged guys all over the field and Keith Marshall broke two runs that made UT's secondary look like the Falcons on Tecmo Bowl. The Falcons were always terrible on Tecmo Bowl. I always played as the Raiders and would handoff to Bo Jackson. Just run Bo to the right and hold down "A." I would win 76-0 every time. Keith did his best Bo Jackson-Tecmo Bowl impersonation on his first touchdown. He just decided he was going to score, and it was so. The safety came near him and it was like Keanu Reeves in the Matrix stopping bullets.....he held out his hand and calmly said "No." We were up big in the blink of an eye, the only glaring mistake was Murray's interception. I felt my body relax and we all toasted to the Dawgs and our apparent victory that was going to be easier than finding a funnel cake in Pigeon Forge.
Wrong. In 4:30, Tennessee scored 20 points. Four-%^$**((&*((&UJH&& minutes and thirty ^&%**&& seconds. I asked Qdoba, "did we have a stroke after that last touchdown?" First, Malcolm Mitchell misplays a punt and puts us in a hole. This is getting to be a common occurence with him. Bobo does his patented "let's telegraph what we are going to do" offensive scheme and Tennessee gets great field position. They score with relative ease. Then Murray fumbles on a sack and AJ Johnson recovers for Tennessee. Easy score. Then Marshall fumbles and they recover. Another easy score. Gurley mishandles a kickoff. Marshall Morgan proved that the crossbar in Athens does indeed have a bullseye on it. The defensive backs are getting beat repeatedly. Murray gets that freshman "what the hell is happening" face and Richt's facial expression says, "Ya know, maybe I should cut the grass tomorrow. No, I'll let Kathryn do it. Then maybe we will get ice cream. Yeah, ice cream." I was beside myself and Qdoba was worried that I was going to headbutt our table in half. In 4:30, I can do the following activities:
1) Run 4/5 of a mile.
2) Eat seven hot dogs and a whole plate of fusilli from Angelo's in Little Italy
3) Ride the subway for forty blocks
4) Try to watch the news without vomiting
5) Learn and master the "stanky leg" dance
Tennessee can apparently score three touchdowns. Chagrin and shenanigans. Luckily, Artie Lynch came up big with a huge catch and somehow, by the grace of God, Zeus, Poseidon, the Wizard of Oz and C-3PO, Marshall Morgan made a 50 yard field goal. (C3PO was a god to the Ewoks, don't act like you forgot) Halftime was 30-30 and it should have been 42-10. I grumbled and went to the restroom. I checked in on the Virginia Tech game as I went back. They were playing Monopoly and Yahtzee with mimosas in hand, so I left them alone. Seriously, I did not want my eyes scratched out by interrupting a chick who is about to buy Marvin Gardens with two hotels. You just don't want that kind of trouble. However, I cannot help but point out a great ACC moment from the day: The bar let out a roar when the score from the Georgia Tech game appeared on the screen. Beaten at home by three touchdowns by the University of Murfreesboro-West Nashville. Congratulations Middle Tennessee State, you gained about 94,000 new fans on Saturday. Tech, please keep Paul Johnson forever. Purty, please? It's like having Reggie Ball back on the Flats and he's giving us free pizza to boot.
As I devoured the calamari ordered by Qdoba, I contemplated the second half. I thought about the fight between Cole Trickle and Harry Hogge on Days of Thunder. Randy Quaid said one of the best lines ever, which cannot be repeated here, but it sums up my feelings about the second quarter. The defense needed to step up and special teams had to wake up. As we trotted back out, I felt a little better. Murray had a determined look and Grantham appeared as if he had just eaten a truck tire with chains on it, so I knew we would be fired up. The offense was superb and Murray was finding guys everywhere. Bennett. Brown. Rome. King. Catch after catch they made in traffic, wide open, slanting, posting, hooking, flagging, Riverdancing......you name it. I have to point out King's effort in the first quarter when he dragged AJ Johnson four yards and almost scored. That was an NFL play right there. In the second half, we looked so crisp. Marshall and Gurley ripped UT's heart out with run after run, just abusing their linebackers and secondary. Michael Bennett caught two awesome passes for touchdowns. Our defensive line was the weak point on this day. John Jenkins, Abry Jones, Kwame Geathers and Cornelius Washington were no-shows. UT's linemen blew them up all game, we got no push and Bray can throw the damn football. That guy is scary and I'm glad he's gone after this year. Neal, their subpar running back, did his best Reggie Cobb impression. (90's Dawg fans will remember this guy. He KILLED us every time we played.) Our linebackers played fair but it seemed as if they were a step slow. Luckily for us, Sanders Commings and Damian Swann came to play. Three turnovers by Tennessee doomed them, just as three turnovers by us let their sorry butts back in the game. It does not matter how fast and talented you are, if you put the ball on the ground and you cannot kick, you can lose to anyone. Just ask Tech. (except Tech is not talented, fast, good, smart, athletic, worthwhile or relevant.)
Now we draw Carolina, an away game against a 6-0 opponent who had to come back to beat Kentucky and almost lost to Vandy. See? Anybody can have an off day. We had ours and we survived. Let's leave it at that and prepare for a bloodbath against the impostor, SEC coattail-riding Lamecocks. A team that has accomplished next to nothing in their history. A school that has one conference championship in their ENTIRE history: the 1969 ACC Championship. A school that is most famous for hosting a fake football team, the ESU Wolves, in their stadium. (+1 for The Program reference) I can see Jarvis Jones in the film room now:
Coach: "Jarvis, what do you do on this play?"
Jarvis: "Hit the tight end so hard his girlfriend dies."
Go Dawgs.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Character in Cassville: We may not have good pizza, but we know a good spark plug when we see one
I was paid the ultimate compliment this week. A friend of mine from Cassville sent a message to me on Facebook asking about how I enjoyed my legal career. After discusssing my daily duties, she replied, "I was shocked to know you became a lawyer. Not because it's hard, but because every lawyer I know is a whiny, whimpy, lying jerk, and none of those words describe you at all." Totally flattered, I thanked her. Sadly, I could not disagree with her indictment of my profession, as I see many lawyers every day that fit that bill. The chances of the average person running into a lawyer that is a "whiny, whimpy, lying jerk" increase every day, as law schools keep churning them out left and right to a world with limited jobs, where the premium shifts from service to the client over to "I gotta get mine." I've often asked myself, after meeting one of these types, "this guy passed the same Bar I did?" Yep, he sure as hell did. So, I see it as my duty to prove to the world that some of us still have decorum, still care about our fellow man, and understood our Oath to mean more than just a license to don silk stockings and ride the elevator of self-importance .
Frankly, every profession, every religion, race, and creed has extreme negative sides. Take this week for example. I had my first encounter with a Hare Krishna member. He started handing me trinkets and a card that said "Peace" with an illustration of Krishna, he blessed me over and over, telling me that he prayed for peace in my life, blah blah blah. I say "blah blah blah" because he immediately asked for a donation, and I replied that I only had a credit card, which was true. His smile disappeared, he jerked his trinkets out of my hand and darted away quickly, ready to con the next person. I tried to let it go, but I could not. In New York, I have learned that confrontation is warranted at a moment like this. You know why I was mad? I was listening to a live version of "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd, enjoying it immensely, when this little ripoff artist accosted me. I said, "Don't interrupt David Gilmour ever again." Like I said, some things just cannot be ignored. Plus, they wear Tennessee orange colored robes, so they automatically join my s**t list just by existing.
There are so many types of people here and I have become immune to the "different" folks that call New York home. A guy wearing an orange mohawk and a tattoo on his face? Not a second look. Yesterday, a woman was walking topless next to Grand Central wearing nothing but jeans and a cowboy hat. I paid her about as much attention as a pigeon pecking at the horse feed next to Central Park. She actually stopped next to a phone booth and adjusted her hat in her reflection off the glass. I guess if you are wearing half of a birthday suit, you want to look your best for your eventual jail visit. Two days ago, one block from my apartment, I watched a homeless man absolutely "dog cuss" (a great Southern term) the padlocked door on the UPS store. I actually stopped for this one, because he was using combinations of foul language that I had never heard in my life and I thought that maybe God actually could strike him dead. He would start walking away, then come back and rip into this padlocked door like it just stolen his Iphone. (Homeless people have Iphones here, no kidding) This procession continued for five minutes until he realized he had more pressing business uptown and walked off for good. As I walked by that door, I almost overheard it talking smack, I swear. You never know in this city.
Cassville has about 8.99 million less people than New York. If you wear an orange mohawk, people will probably stare at you. You will probably be accused of being an atheist, or worse, a Democrat. We have precisely five restaurants and only one that is not located in a truck stop. There are no cabs for hire riding around, you have to call them. Then they show up in a busted 1994 Ford Aerostar, looking half dead and telling you that they don't go past Fairmount. Pizza is not our thing and Papa John's refuses to go past Mac Johnson Road, cutting us off almost completely. Street vendors don't sell pashminas or knock off Louis Vuitton purses, they sell autographed Dale Earnhardt Jr. helmets out of their front yard. The closest version of Times Square? Exit 296 with its truck stops, three hotels (one condemned) and the adult book store. You can see the lights all the way from Adairsville. You want to run through our Central Park and get a taste of history? There's a patch of grass next to Cass Grocery that you could run around about 2,754 times, it has a monument to Lewis Cass for whom the town is named.
However, what we lack in nightlife and activity, we make up for with character. For example:
1) We know what WD-40 can do, it's value is second only to duct tape. How many door hinges, engine parts and bicycle chains did I grease back home? Countless. Plus, you can make an awesome flamethrower with it. God help any fire ants that built a nest in the parking lot at Cass Grocery. We are talking Hiroshima-like conditions for these poor insects while my brother and I danced around them like fools. Why burn just one with a magnifying glass? That's inefficient. People here probably think it's something you file with your taxes.
2) We know Briggs & Stratton, Smith & Wesson, and Allis-Chalmers. We know Dean Durham, Shaw Grigsby and Denny Brauer. People here probably think these are all law firms. I cannot count how many Briggs & Stratton spark plugs I sold at the store and I would run back to the TV because Bill Dance was coming on and I did not want to miss the bloopers.
3) We can talk about pouring concrete, installing drywall, working on a car or hanging shingles for hours. In fact, we can make it into a dramatization. Forget Broadway. Imagine one man in front of Cass Grocery talking to 6 other men drinking coffee.
"So, there's Lamar, he's got the manifold in his hand. He tells Bobby to put the air filter back in, but Bobby can't find it. They get to fightin.." ("get to fightin" is a great Southern term)
The group all looks at each other with an understanding glance, fighting over an air filter....totally worth it. Some of them grumble about the price of air filters, there's a sidebar discussion of Advance Auto, Autozone, and Cass Grocery prices. They all decide they would rather buy from us because they like us, take a sip of coffee and the story continues.
"So, Bobby goes to lookin. He can't find the air filter nowhere. Y'all know how dumb he is. All over the shop, he tears up everything, lookin for this air filter. Sure enough, the damn dog took it and it was tore up all over the yard. Lamar had to go all the way back to Cartersville (4 miles) to get another one."
During this riveting exchange, nobody takes their eyes off the storyteller. They laugh uncontrollably at Lamar's expense, then somebody tells a story about sheetrock falling off the wall at a job. Like old man river, it never stops. (side note: having to go to Cartersville for anything is equivalent to going to Spain. If you have to go outside the county, it might as well be Antartica.)
4) We don't have a homeless problem. Everybody lives somewhere, by God. Since we all claim 5th and 6th cousins and are all 1/32 Cherokee, it's like one big happy family...we just pile into a single wide on Cedar Creek Road, stick a mailbox in the dirt and call it home. I knew one family on Mostellar's Mill Road, on the Cassville/Adairsville/Folsom border, that must have had 56 people living in their house. How do I know? They all wrote me bad checks and had the same address.
5) We don't have a pile of newspapers influencing our political decisions in Cassville. In New York, there's the Daily News, The Times, The Post, The Wall Street Journal, and the AM Metro (and that's just off the top of my head). The Upper West Side is an undesignated area with no real boundaries, yet it has its own weekly newspaper. For you Bartow natives, that's like Rydal having a newspaper. Nobody knows how or when you get to Rydal, you just sort of materialize there. The only magazines that anyone ever asked for at Cass Gorcery were the latest Auto Trader or Georgia Outdoor News. I guess we cared more about the biggest buck taken in Early County and what it scored on the Pope & Young (also not a law firm) rather than what some politician felt about the latest SPLOST proposal.
So there you have it, the 30123 may not have the bright lights, it may not have any restaurants that can get higher than a 73 on the Health Inspection, and we may not be able to get pizza other than DiGiorno from Ingles, but we definitely have a way of life unique to us. I've told New Yorkers, who are in disbelief at the size and quiet nature of my hometown, that we were never bored. Seriously, who would not be entertained by a story about fence staples? Who would not want to watch me burn a cockroach with a WD-40 fueled flamethrower? Who does not want to see a picture of the biggest bream caught in Polk County? As for the homeless guy cussing the padlocked door, if he did that in Cassville, he would be dealt with as nonchalantly as he was on the streets of New York. I could hear them at the store now:
"I bet that sumbitch is from Fairmount."
Frankly, every profession, every religion, race, and creed has extreme negative sides. Take this week for example. I had my first encounter with a Hare Krishna member. He started handing me trinkets and a card that said "Peace" with an illustration of Krishna, he blessed me over and over, telling me that he prayed for peace in my life, blah blah blah. I say "blah blah blah" because he immediately asked for a donation, and I replied that I only had a credit card, which was true. His smile disappeared, he jerked his trinkets out of my hand and darted away quickly, ready to con the next person. I tried to let it go, but I could not. In New York, I have learned that confrontation is warranted at a moment like this. You know why I was mad? I was listening to a live version of "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd, enjoying it immensely, when this little ripoff artist accosted me. I said, "Don't interrupt David Gilmour ever again." Like I said, some things just cannot be ignored. Plus, they wear Tennessee orange colored robes, so they automatically join my s**t list just by existing.
There are so many types of people here and I have become immune to the "different" folks that call New York home. A guy wearing an orange mohawk and a tattoo on his face? Not a second look. Yesterday, a woman was walking topless next to Grand Central wearing nothing but jeans and a cowboy hat. I paid her about as much attention as a pigeon pecking at the horse feed next to Central Park. She actually stopped next to a phone booth and adjusted her hat in her reflection off the glass. I guess if you are wearing half of a birthday suit, you want to look your best for your eventual jail visit. Two days ago, one block from my apartment, I watched a homeless man absolutely "dog cuss" (a great Southern term) the padlocked door on the UPS store. I actually stopped for this one, because he was using combinations of foul language that I had never heard in my life and I thought that maybe God actually could strike him dead. He would start walking away, then come back and rip into this padlocked door like it just stolen his Iphone. (Homeless people have Iphones here, no kidding) This procession continued for five minutes until he realized he had more pressing business uptown and walked off for good. As I walked by that door, I almost overheard it talking smack, I swear. You never know in this city.
Cassville has about 8.99 million less people than New York. If you wear an orange mohawk, people will probably stare at you. You will probably be accused of being an atheist, or worse, a Democrat. We have precisely five restaurants and only one that is not located in a truck stop. There are no cabs for hire riding around, you have to call them. Then they show up in a busted 1994 Ford Aerostar, looking half dead and telling you that they don't go past Fairmount. Pizza is not our thing and Papa John's refuses to go past Mac Johnson Road, cutting us off almost completely. Street vendors don't sell pashminas or knock off Louis Vuitton purses, they sell autographed Dale Earnhardt Jr. helmets out of their front yard. The closest version of Times Square? Exit 296 with its truck stops, three hotels (one condemned) and the adult book store. You can see the lights all the way from Adairsville. You want to run through our Central Park and get a taste of history? There's a patch of grass next to Cass Grocery that you could run around about 2,754 times, it has a monument to Lewis Cass for whom the town is named.
However, what we lack in nightlife and activity, we make up for with character. For example:
1) We know what WD-40 can do, it's value is second only to duct tape. How many door hinges, engine parts and bicycle chains did I grease back home? Countless. Plus, you can make an awesome flamethrower with it. God help any fire ants that built a nest in the parking lot at Cass Grocery. We are talking Hiroshima-like conditions for these poor insects while my brother and I danced around them like fools. Why burn just one with a magnifying glass? That's inefficient. People here probably think it's something you file with your taxes.
2) We know Briggs & Stratton, Smith & Wesson, and Allis-Chalmers. We know Dean Durham, Shaw Grigsby and Denny Brauer. People here probably think these are all law firms. I cannot count how many Briggs & Stratton spark plugs I sold at the store and I would run back to the TV because Bill Dance was coming on and I did not want to miss the bloopers.
3) We can talk about pouring concrete, installing drywall, working on a car or hanging shingles for hours. In fact, we can make it into a dramatization. Forget Broadway. Imagine one man in front of Cass Grocery talking to 6 other men drinking coffee.
"So, there's Lamar, he's got the manifold in his hand. He tells Bobby to put the air filter back in, but Bobby can't find it. They get to fightin.." ("get to fightin" is a great Southern term)
The group all looks at each other with an understanding glance, fighting over an air filter....totally worth it. Some of them grumble about the price of air filters, there's a sidebar discussion of Advance Auto, Autozone, and Cass Grocery prices. They all decide they would rather buy from us because they like us, take a sip of coffee and the story continues.
"So, Bobby goes to lookin. He can't find the air filter nowhere. Y'all know how dumb he is. All over the shop, he tears up everything, lookin for this air filter. Sure enough, the damn dog took it and it was tore up all over the yard. Lamar had to go all the way back to Cartersville (4 miles) to get another one."
During this riveting exchange, nobody takes their eyes off the storyteller. They laugh uncontrollably at Lamar's expense, then somebody tells a story about sheetrock falling off the wall at a job. Like old man river, it never stops. (side note: having to go to Cartersville for anything is equivalent to going to Spain. If you have to go outside the county, it might as well be Antartica.)
4) We don't have a homeless problem. Everybody lives somewhere, by God. Since we all claim 5th and 6th cousins and are all 1/32 Cherokee, it's like one big happy family...we just pile into a single wide on Cedar Creek Road, stick a mailbox in the dirt and call it home. I knew one family on Mostellar's Mill Road, on the Cassville/Adairsville/Folsom border, that must have had 56 people living in their house. How do I know? They all wrote me bad checks and had the same address.
5) We don't have a pile of newspapers influencing our political decisions in Cassville. In New York, there's the Daily News, The Times, The Post, The Wall Street Journal, and the AM Metro (and that's just off the top of my head). The Upper West Side is an undesignated area with no real boundaries, yet it has its own weekly newspaper. For you Bartow natives, that's like Rydal having a newspaper. Nobody knows how or when you get to Rydal, you just sort of materialize there. The only magazines that anyone ever asked for at Cass Gorcery were the latest Auto Trader or Georgia Outdoor News. I guess we cared more about the biggest buck taken in Early County and what it scored on the Pope & Young (also not a law firm) rather than what some politician felt about the latest SPLOST proposal.
So there you have it, the 30123 may not have the bright lights, it may not have any restaurants that can get higher than a 73 on the Health Inspection, and we may not be able to get pizza other than DiGiorno from Ingles, but we definitely have a way of life unique to us. I've told New Yorkers, who are in disbelief at the size and quiet nature of my hometown, that we were never bored. Seriously, who would not be entertained by a story about fence staples? Who would not want to watch me burn a cockroach with a WD-40 fueled flamethrower? Who does not want to see a picture of the biggest bream caught in Polk County? As for the homeless guy cussing the padlocked door, if he did that in Cassville, he would be dealt with as nonchalantly as he was on the streets of New York. I could hear them at the store now:
"I bet that sumbitch is from Fairmount."
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About Me
- Brad
- I'm good at people watching and the memorization of useless facts. I'm voracious eater, reader, Crossfitter and Dawg fan. Shamelessly devoted to the cause of making 9-5 not suck so bad.