Great Day for a Twinkie Party
What a glorious day God gave us for football in Athens Saturday! The morning was crisp and the afternoon sun was warm and the women were beautiful and the drinks were cold—and the cupcake we were enjoying came with plenty of icing—and sprinkles.
And yet, many Georgia fans found plenty to complain about. Some Georgia fans really made me tired. I went to the bathroom in the middle of the third quarter and a nine-year old kid who could barely reach the urinal was cussing Mike Bobo for not giving Todd Gurley enough touches.
I’m sure he had heard it at home. “How can Gurley win the Heisman if they won’t give him the ball? Why wouldn’t you play him the whole game?”
I think Keith Marshall’s torn ligament might have been exhibit A had I chosen to defend the Georgia coaching staff, but since the kid wasn’t smart enough to hsake the dew off his lily without watering his sneakers I let it slide. Besides, I didn’t want anything to ruin my gloriously happy day in Athens.
I have moved to the UGA Hotel this season—at least for Friday and Saturday nights, and my children are doing all the heavy lifting as far as the tailgate is concerned. I slept in, enjoyed a little breakfast in the lobby—I didn’t have the eggs, though—I didn’t want anything to do with a chicken this Saturday, and walked across campus to renew old acquaintances with friends and fellow citizens of the Bulldog Nation that I hadn’t seen in two whole weeks.
My grandson, Henley, was making his second ever appearance at a pre-game tailgate. Of course he is only six weeks old and wasn’t quite up to making a road game to Columbia. I am 62 and have made my last road trip to Columbia. Suffice it to say that a good time was had by all under the oak trees behind the Vet School on Agriculture Drive. I felt like a new creature as I walked across campus with my lovely wife, Lisa. We stopped by Dorsey Hill’s tailgate, as is our custom, to shake son Alex’s hand, slap Dorsey on the butt and kiss his beautiful better half, Charlotte on the cheek and took our places in section 129. We moved this year—at least until the weather turns cooler.
Didn’t the solo trumpeter do a superb job Saturday! Better than the athletic staff that can’t quite figure out what to do with the students. This week they instituted a new wristband policy designed to stop overcrowding in sections 109 and 110. It didn’t work. Those sections were as crowded as ever, but there were huge open spaces behind the band and in 111. Didn’t look too good.
But I quit worrying about all of that when the game started. How ‘bout them Dawgs. The defensive backfield looked like their shaky selves on Troy’s first possession. Troy receivers were wide open and their giant quarterback found them way too often. If not for a dropped pass here or there we might have given up six early. Instead we hunkered down and held them to a missed field goal and the rout was on.
Gurley right, Gurley left, Gurley up the middle and immediately we were flying down the field. What a stable of backs we have. I love Sony Michel and Nick Chubb and Brandon Douglas. It was all Georgia after Gurley’s first touch and if we called the names of all the standout performers on Saturday we would have a long, long list of names. Suffice it to say that they all brought glory to old Georgia and if anybody says to you, “Yeah, but it was just Troy,” tell them Wofford wasn’t available this week.
66-0 is a good day no matter who you are playing. Normally we have to wait until the last week of the regular season to devour such a tasty cupcake. I’m just glad the post-game injury list was short, Keith Marshall notwithstanding.
But let me tell y’all something. Next week will be different. Next week Tennessee comes to town with a dandy passer and three fine receivers. Our defense is still not quite ready for prime time and we are going to have to get in a shootout with those guys and it is a big, big, big, big game. Everybody needs to show up, early and loud. Don’t dwindle into the stadium at kickoff time and don’t sit on your hands.
Total nuclear war between the hedges. Look for me. I’ll be the good-looking guy in the red shirt, singing “Rocky Flop” at the top of his lungs.
Darrell Huckaby is an author, educator and syndicated newspaper columnist. Visit his website at Dhuck08@bellsouth.net.