huckaby

Darrell Huckaby is a syndicated columnist and author of six books including two about Georgia football. Read Huck’s Wit and Wisdom every Wednesday and Sunday. Subscribe at darrellhuckaby.net.

9.29.25

Kirby’s Kryptonite is Crimson, not Green

I answered several texts during Saturday night’s brawl between the hedges asking if Georgia looked as bad on television in Texas as they did from the Sanford Stadium stands. Actually, they did. And I find that mystifying.

Call it a jinx. Call it Kirby’s Kryptonite. Call it whatever you want to call it. Alabama has Georgia’s number. They have not been that much better than Georgia has been over the course of the season, and I have no explanation for why the series is so lopsided. Yes, when Saban ruled the SEC, Alabama was generally better than other teams—but they were not 9-1 better than Georgia. They just weren’t.

And yet, there they were Saturday, in a pumped-up stadium—although the person who made the decision to order 65,000 illuminating wristbands for a crowd of 93,000 people should be fired. I know an eleven-year-old boy who was heartbroken from having to watch drunk adults wave theirs around, taunting the fact that he was left out. At least that’s how it seemed to him.

But as to the game. I wanted to believe, and, in fact, last year in Tuscaloosa, I did believe. I foolishly thought that when we beat Bama—Saban and all—in Indianapolis that the monkey was forevermore off our back. Then that 31-point first half happened and I knew they still owned us. And even when the Tide was embarrassed by Florida State in the season opener, I knew. I still knew.

Then the game started, and my greatest fears were quickly brought to fruition. Alabama’s quarterback looked like the second coming of Joe Burrow and, suddenly, our secondary, in the eloquent words of the great Coach John Barnett, couldn’t cover a tree stump. Down the field the Tide rolled. Three and out went the Dawgs. I knew we had seen this show before. And of course Nate Frazier fumbled at the worst possible time because that is kind of what he does.

But after that fumble, the Dawgs’ defense stiffened and help Bama to a fell goal and suddenly Hope was dancing beside me in the room at MD Anderson. I truly believed that we would do what we do and turn the game around.

And we did. But, alas, it was not meant to be. Too many crucial mistakes at critical times. The dropped pass by Number 11 broke my heart and hurt my soul. I know his name, but don’t want to put any undue pressure on him by citing it. He’s just a freshman, but man I have never seen a more perfectly thrown ball hit a wide-open receiver in a better place. I wonder what a touchdown in that spot would have done to the complexion of the game?

But we still weren’t done. We marched the length of the field against them—almost. I would have liked to have seen a review of Gunner’s third down dive because he looked really close to me. Whether we should have tied the game with a field goal instead of lining up quick and running Cash Jones to the right—or perhaps taking a moment to huddle up and run a larger, faster player behind the side of the line that had been actually blocking most of the day will be debated for as long as college football is played. I won’t criticize our coaching staff for what they did. They thought it would work. It was their decision to make. If we had touched the defensive lineman just a little, we would have won another great come-from-behind victory, and the chapel bell would still be ringing. And you would have read this column yesterday.

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride and if your aunt had . . . well, you know.

What happened happened and we lost to Alabama—again. But now we have to play the rest of the season, and the games don’t necessarily get easier. This is the new world of college football. Embrace it or walk away.

I’m embracing it. Look for me Saturday as we take on the Lexington felines.

I’ll be the good-looking guy in the red shirt.

Darrell Huckaby

DHuck008@gmail.com