No. 184 - Poor Man’s Game Notes VI: UGA vs. Ole Miss, 10/18/25

I’m writing this from a meditation commune in Texas.

There are eighteen one-room cabins without televisions or bathrooms. There’s an outdoor shower, an outhouse, and a west-facing platform where everyone does yoga in the morning. Everyone except for me, because my ability to bend is only matched by my inability to care.

I wasn’t planning on coming here. I didn’t know this place existed three days ago. I arrived after a morning in Birmingham, an afternoon in Mississippi, and a night on Bourbon Street. The following night I camped on a beach in Galveston, where the humidity ensured a terrible night’s sleep, but luckily it was interrupted by pelting rain.

Such is the life of a drifter.

I write one of these things every week for our Chief Muckety Muck—Mr. Ryan Scates, Esquire—and it always surprises me when Monday rolls around, because it’s my deadline.

And if you ask Ryan, I send these things in last minute. It’s not because I’m lazy, but because I’m usually waking up in a motel, tent, or commune and have lost track of time.

If it weren’t for this deadline, every day would bleed together, making my life a never-ending reel of post office runs, gas station coffee, and, to quote a Rhodes Scholar, finding my cleanest dirty shirt.

So, as I said, I’m coming to you from the middle of nowhere, where I brush my teeth with my sunglasses on and shower beneath an oak tree.

Like I mentioned, I was in Mississippi a few days ago. How many days ago? Your guess is as good as mine. What I do recall was stopping by Laurel for lunch en route to Louisiana. I got the fried chicken platter at Pearl’s Kitchen, and it did not disappoint.

You see, Mississippi is one of my favorite places in America. I love the people, its history, and its rich culture. The food is top-notch, and the people treat me like family. Everyone—and I mean literally everyone—in Laurel said hi and asked how I was doing. These are perfect strangers, mind you.

There’s a warmth to Mississippi that feels like home. I’ve felt it every time I’ve been a guest in their great state. For someone who’s been to 48 states, I’d say I’m qualified to stack-rank the friendliest places in America, and so far, every town in Mississippi is at the top

That said, our Dawgs are gonna have their hands full. Thank God it’s a home game. Right now, I’d hate to play these guys in Oxford. As much as I want to beat the tar out of ’em, I can’t help but acknowledge I have love in my heart for the people of Mississippi. In my book, if you showered me with love, I’m gonna do the same—with one exception.

Give ’em hell, Kirby! Go Dawgs!