No. 13 - Bulldawg Illustrated XIII: UGA vs. South Carolina, 9/10/11
0-2 with Perspective
I don’t even know where to start on this one. So I’ll start here—guess where 15º 00’ N and 86º 30’ W is located? If you guessed where Mark Richt will be one year from now, you’re right… assuming he chooses the subtropical climate of Honduras to spread the Good Word. And truthfully, a man of his caliber should probably be doing what his heart desires.
In between puffing on a cheap cigar, drinking recession beer (PBR tall boys), and yelling at the television, I managed not to pop a brain vessel with the kind of frustration that only comes from being a UGA football fan.
Admittedly, we played better (with the exception of an atrocious O-line and the usual discipline issues—i.e., Rambo). But, as I’ll teach Annabelle and Andrew: there’s only room for one winner in life—especially in the SEC. I, and Bulldog Nation, could care less about how hard you played… because in the end, we’re 0–2, gentlemen.
As angry as I was with the outcome, waking up Sunday morning to the tenth anniversary of 9/11 was sobering. I quickly forgot about the game and did my best not to tear up while watching the memorial services. For a while, I had both of my kids in my arms—squeezed tightly.
I remember 9/11 like it was yesterday. I woke up to my clock radio stating that the U.S. was under terrorist attack. I was a student at UGA at the time, and ironically enough, I was heading to Baldwin Hall to attend a course titled South Asian Trade & Security—where we were studying the possibility of an attack on U.S. soil. I was scared that day in Baldwin Hall (classes were canceled afterward). I remember looking for planes in the sky, incapable of concentrating on anything, consumed with confusion, bubbling with anger.
Five years later, I was staying at the Millennium Hotel in NYC—across the street from Ground Zero. From my room, perched forty-plus stories in the sky, I was overcome with emotion looking down at that terrible hole in the earth. That view is burned into my conscience.
So, while losing another ball game was no fun—it pales in comparison to what happened ten years ago Sunday.
I’ve got a feeling that Richt has a perspective on life that most don’t… that he understands what’s really important. And maybe college football just doesn’t stir him like it used to. And that’s OK.
If he ends up leaving the University of Georgia, I hope it’s done with honor and class. Sure, we Dawgs hate losing, but we should equally understand that a man has to do what a man has to do.
Richt is a good man, a great family man, and an incredible ambassador for our University.
Let’s not forget that.
Go Dawgs.
Editor’s Note: Brad Evans is a guest blogger for Bulldawg Illustrated. He writes from the perspective of a UGA alumnus and suburban dad who longs every weekend to be in Athens. Instead, he watches the game at home in a red and black bow tie, bourbon in one hand and cigar in the other, alongside his wife—an Auburn grad—and their 2½-year-old daughter and 2-month-old son, both caught in the middle of mom and dad’s football loyalties.
