For the old country gentlemen on this board...

Aug 27, 2014, 10:32 AM

and the youngsters unfamiliar with him. I saw Lewis Grizzard's name on this board and it got me thinking. I am cutting and pasting an old column of his from the AJC from 1984.

Great moments in a would be father’s life

To my Son, if I ever have one:

Kid, I am writing this on September 3, 1984. I have just returned from Athens, where I spent Saturday watching the University of Georgia, your old dad’s alma matter, play football against Clemson.

While the events of the day were still fresh on my mind, I wanted to recount them so if you are ever born, you can read this and perhaps be able to share one of the great moments in your father’s life.

Saturday was a wonderful day on the Georgia campus.

We are talking blue, cloudless sky, a gentle breeze and a temperature suggesting summer’s end and autumn’s approach.

I said the blessing before we had lunch. I thanked the Lord for three things: fried chicken, potato salad and for the fact he had allowed me the privilege of being a Bulldog.

“And , Dear Lord,” I prayed, “bless all those not as fortunate as I.”

Imagine my son, 82,000 people, most whom were garbed in red, gathered together gazing down on a lush valley of hedge and grass where soon historic sporting combat would be launched.

Clemson was ranked number 2 in the nation, and Georgia, feared too young to compete with the veterans from beyond the river, could only dream, the smart money said, of emerging three hours hence victorious.

They had us 20-6 at the half, son. A man sitting in front of me said, “I just hope we don’t get embarrassed.”

My boy, I had never seen such a thing as came to pass in the second half. Todd Williams threw one long and high, and Herman Archie caught it in the end zone, and it was now 20-13.

Georgia got the ball again and scored again, and it was now 20-20, and my mouth was dry, and my hands were shaking, and this Clemson fan who had been running his mouth the whole ballgame suddenly shut his fat face.

Son, we got ahead 23-20, and the ground trembled and shook, and many were taken by fainting spells.

Clemson’s kicker, Donald Igwebuike, tied it 23-23 and this sacred place became the center of the universe.

Only seconds were left when Georgia’s kicker, Kevin Butler, stood poised in concentration. The ball rushed toward him, and it was placed upon the tee a heartbeat before his right foot launched it heavenward.

A lifetime later, the officials threw their arms aloft. From 60 yards away, Kevin Butler had been true, and Georgia led and would win 26-23.

I hugged perfect strangers and kissed a fat lady on the mouth. Grown men wept. Lightening flashed. Thunder rolled. Stars fell, and joy swept through, fetched by a hurricane of unleashed emotions.

When Georgia beat Alabama 18-17 in 1965, it was a staggering victory. When we came back against Georgia Tech and won 29-28 in1978, the Chapel bell rang all night. When we beat Florida 26-21 in the last seconds in 1980, we called it a miracle. And when we beat Notre Dame 17-10 in the Sugar Bowl that same year for the national championship, a woman pulled up her skirt and showed the world the Bulldog she had sewn on her underbritches.

But Saturday may have been even better than any of those.

Saturday in Athens was a religious experience.

I give this to you, son. Read it and re-read it, and keep it next to your heart. And when people want to know how you wound up with the name “Kevin” let them read it, and then they will know.

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I remember that game as if I was once again walking out of Sanford....and somewhere, trapped in some undefined dimension between space and time, there still floats a litany of expletives I unleashed to---well, no one in general. Then again, I also remember a certain Mr. Treadwell who returned the favor to Coach Dooley a couple of times as well.

There were hardly 2 better programs than Clemson's and UGa's during that era. Two schools less than a 100 miles apart were the showcases for college football and played some of best football I've ever seen .... in the late 70's through the 80's both teams were populated with players from NC, SC, Ga and North Fla....which also says something about HS football in the Southeast.

Every Clemson fan I've ever know enjoyed Grizzard's deeply Southern voice--despite the carflag he flew on Saturdays. Grizzard's column and that era of college football ended far too quickly.

For the old country gentlemen on this board...

Somewhere there's still a trash can in orbit...

Re: Somewhere there's still a trash can in orbit...

I tried to catch my mother's lamp after it suddenly became

I remember listening to this game on the radio.

Re: For the old country gentlemen on this board...

Same headline after Puntrooskie!***

yep..one of my most painful gut scars came that day

Re: For the old country gentlemen on this board...

Like every other Tiger fan who was of age during that era,

And

My worst Ga memory , was watching the head coward in red

Had the clock operator not wasted 3 seconds

I was getting ready to say this - and in addition

Re: For the old country gentlemen on this board...

not another ref, Vince Dooley walked up to the referees

The clock clearly went ....2...1...0 AFTER he went OB

Me either. I can clearly see the clock to this day....

Those two FG games were classics.....Butler & Treadwell!

and Treadwell won 2!***

Gotta love Grizzard- here's one of his classics

Re: For the old country gentlemen on this board...

Re: For the old country gentlemen on this board...

THIS...is what the rivalry was about. Nothing like those

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