My
earliest childhood memory is from 1980. I was two. We were in Winter
Park, FL, and Georgia had just won the National Championship in
football. Dad was the president of the Central FL Bulldog Club at the
time. He was playing one of his Georgia records those old school fans
will remember "when you meet the Georgia Bulldogs, there's gonna be a
Bulldog bite..." Run. Herschel. Run.
It was January in
Florida and he was wearing shorts and a Georgia shirt as he almost
always did. He was holding me and dancing. Singing. Rejoicing. It was
pure JOY.
I am trying to wrap my mind around a football season
without my dad. It's basically like how the first Christmas would be
for other families. This is a man who couldn't go to Jacksonville one
year for the annual Georgia- Florida game, and he couldn't get it on the
radio. So he did what any self- respecting Georgia fan would do. He
asked one of his friends who could get the game on the radio to play it
and just leave the phone receiver next to the radio so he could listen.
To the whole game. He paid the long distance bill.
Georgia football
is spiritual in my family. Starting with my grandfather and spilling all
the way down into all of our veins is the red, red blood. It runs deep
on both sides.
It is spiritual in the sense that it is sacred,
holy. It is at the very core of what holds us all together. The extended
family I mean. We may not all keep in touch or all agree on life. But
come Saturdays in the fall, we are all on the same side, wearing the
same colors, yelling and screaming at the same people on the field.
Today I am fairly sure we will all pause. Even if its for a minute. To
remember one of the greatest Georgia fans I've ever known. Second only
to the Legend Larry Gaither.
I like to think of Dad rejoicing
today. With an even greater JOY. Because no matter who wins today, he
will not be disappointed. Ever again.
So in honor of Dad, "Give 'em Hell Georgia!"
