(Note: I have been writing for the student newspaper at UGA, The Red & Black, for nearly two and a half years now. It’s cheesy tradition for everyone who has been there that long to push out a column in the last paper recalling memories, experiences, etc. Due to a bevy of other columnists running similar bits in the paper and me not being vocal enough, I made the quietest veteran exit ever. Thus, I’ve decided to write what would have been my farewell column here)
Once upon a time, not so long ago (sorry, it was Bon Jovi night on Idol a few days ago and it’s stuck on me), the Bulldog Nation made me ill.
I cheered when Jasper Sanks dropped the ball on the goal line. I hooted and hollered when the Salukis dumped that overrated basketball bunch in 2002. I praised Mark Richt’s mind for giving it to Musa Smith with no timeouts and 20 seconds to go on the goal line against Auburn.
I hated Georgia mainly for its fans, who I thought were self-righteous, whiny and obnoxious…long before I learned that being a “drunk, obnoxious Georgia fan” was a cry of pride.
My parents were right: once you get up here, it’s hard not to become a fan.
Since then, I have attended a plethora of Georgia sporting events as a diehard fan. I have covered nearly every sport on campus in some aspect for the Red and Black. I have also represented UGA in five minutes they probably wish I had gone somewhere else on Stump the Schwab.
With that said, here are some of my favorite memories from sports on campus, off campus and related to Georgia in some fashion from the last four years.
-I remember being in an orientation group with a lanky giant I assumed was going to be Coach Felton’s new center. When the freakishly tall freshman said he played tennis, I figured this was something I would have to see. Four years later, John Isner is the top rated college tennis player in the nation and has Georgia in contention for a national championship. And he’ll still hover over me forever
-In 2008, when junior Matt Stafford has Georgia football in contention for a national championship and extending his run at the Heisman, I can say I was there for his first pass between the hedges…a touchdown to Mikey Henderson during G-Day in 2006. You could sense in the air that the kid would be something special…let’s see if that’s the case
-Speaking of football, my two favorite games have to both be Auburn ones. Freshman year, when we destroyed them at home 26-3, the crowd was extremely into it…jangling keys, chanting and giving me my first real taste of why Sanford is so special. This past year’s as well was something great, partially because of who I was with, but also because we had been on that awful losing streak and the nation was crapping on us. Seeing Tra Battle return that touchdown brought forth a blizzard of good feelings (get it, R and Bers?)
-I’ve been to maybe one Gym Dogs meet a year, but what those girls go through year in and year out is remarkable. That team is the best thing going in Georgia athletics right now.
-Every moment spent on the intramural fields or courts at Ramsey. From the Five-Man Miracle to the Ice Bowl to the most emotionless walkoff strikeout ever, I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.
-Inside “the Saddledome” (which came because at Orientation I said that Stegeman looks like Calgary’s arena), the sheer emotion of beating Florida my freshman year (yes, it did happen), as well as the eerie silence and sheer emotion when Kevin Brophy’s family came in for the LSU game following his death the previous summer. Oh, and back to excitement again after Levi Stukes’s buzzer-beater the same day.
-The human side of being a journalist I learned during the Lady Bulldogs’ collapse at home against Tennessee last winter. Having to rewrite an entire story depicting what seemed like sure victory on a late deadline was one thing, but seeing all the journalists staring at each other outside the Georgia locker room, full of shocked and angry players, dumbfoundedly looking at each other in a “You wanna go in and ask questions first” manner. It was surreal.
-While I’m at it, learning that “Media Days” are a total circus full of questions you wouldn’t imagine…and finding the best quotes come from the players no one is surrounding.
-In general, finding that some people won’t like what you write, some will love it…but to have a comment means they had to read it. Through the paper experience, I’ve also learned to fight for your colleagues, how important it is to stand behind your work and that of your fellow writers…and how writers and those they interview pull the strings on each other so much.
I guess the next step is to move on to what I always dreamed of (and what we never achieved growing up since my dad went to Rutgers before they were good): being able to come back for homecomings, to hopefully some day dress my kids in red and black and teach them how to bark and host those massive football watch parties.
It is, has been and always will be great to be a Georgia Bulldog.
Friday, May 4, 2007
THE REAL MLB CURSE
(Note: Though I wrote this blog a day or two ago, I'm only getting to post it today...an hour after learning that Josh Hancock was legally drunk when he crashed and died last weekend. I'll leave that issue for a later time; to me it doesn't matter how it happened, just that it happened)
Now that the Boston Red Sox are obnoxiously celebrating their World Series championship and getting over their own “curse”, that leaves the Cubs as baseball’s lovable losers.
No World Series since before there were 50 states. Curse of the Goat, Curse of Bartman, Curse of Wood and Prior’s spaghetti arms…call it whatever you will.
In some ways, the Cubs can only be thankful that the “curse” they have is not as bad as one their rivals have.
With Josh Hancock’s death this past weekend in an auto accident, the St. Louis Cardinals are struggling to recover yet again. Ever since Y2K passed, the “Y” (or why if you will) has hung around Busch.
Every time something good has happened to the Redbirds, it has been met with something bad.
In 2001, Albert Pujols came out of nowhere as a squeaky-clean, MVP candidate and face of the franchise. The Cards missed out barely on the World Series.
A year later, the team had to face the death of longtime announcer and ambassador Jack Buck. Though tragic and a blow to the team, Buck was old and could not go on forever; he had been sick for sometime.
If that wasn’t enough, five days later, ace Darryl Kile unexpectedly passed from a heart condition. Just as the Cardinal nation was getting past one disaster, another punched them in the gut.
Now, months after celebrating their first World Series title in 25 years, the Cards are recovering again with Hancock’s passing.
You can’t help but feel for the group of players who survived 2002 and now this. Even when the Indians lost Steve Olin and Tim Crews in the early 90s boat crash, it came all at once, lumping the mourning into one period. Now, the Cardinals are forced again to pull their strength together.
Are the Cardinals “cursed”? It’s probably without reason, but they have been the most troubled team since the turn of the millennium. They’ve been the Def Leppard of ballclubs—every time you think you’ve gotten over the ultimate hurdle, another about 12 feet taller stands in front of you.
Maybe the real curse lies in the Cubs-Cards series. The last two times St. Louis has battled inner death, they’ve been playing the Cubs. If I were on either one of those teams, I would be petrified to see the schedule in the near future if it has them playing in primetime.
A great article on a blog Freudianly titled “Deadspin” cites Hancock’s impactà “His sudden departure -- shocking, horrible, insane -- makes us feel as if we have lost something that we never realized we had. We want to go back and cheer harder for him, forgive his mistakes more easily ... treat him as human in a way we never did as a mere fan. He shifts from middle reliever to human being only in death; this can drive a fan mad with guilt and confusion” (http://deadspin.com/sports/josh-hancock/rip-josh-hancock-256275.php)
In addition, the loyal Cardinals fans who had good relationships with both Kile and Hancock are left to face the mourning again…cursed or not.
“There really is ‘Cardinal love’. After a big win, as the crush of fans makes their way from Busch Stadium, the atmosphere is electric. Cardinals’ fans from different cities and different backgrounds unite together through thick and thin. We can celebrate the good. We can recover from the bad.” (http://apps.dennews.com/blog/?p=196)
Now that the Boston Red Sox are obnoxiously celebrating their World Series championship and getting over their own “curse”, that leaves the Cubs as baseball’s lovable losers.
No World Series since before there were 50 states. Curse of the Goat, Curse of Bartman, Curse of Wood and Prior’s spaghetti arms…call it whatever you will.
In some ways, the Cubs can only be thankful that the “curse” they have is not as bad as one their rivals have.
With Josh Hancock’s death this past weekend in an auto accident, the St. Louis Cardinals are struggling to recover yet again. Ever since Y2K passed, the “Y” (or why if you will) has hung around Busch.
Every time something good has happened to the Redbirds, it has been met with something bad.
In 2001, Albert Pujols came out of nowhere as a squeaky-clean, MVP candidate and face of the franchise. The Cards missed out barely on the World Series.
A year later, the team had to face the death of longtime announcer and ambassador Jack Buck. Though tragic and a blow to the team, Buck was old and could not go on forever; he had been sick for sometime.
If that wasn’t enough, five days later, ace Darryl Kile unexpectedly passed from a heart condition. Just as the Cardinal nation was getting past one disaster, another punched them in the gut.
Now, months after celebrating their first World Series title in 25 years, the Cards are recovering again with Hancock’s passing.
You can’t help but feel for the group of players who survived 2002 and now this. Even when the Indians lost Steve Olin and Tim Crews in the early 90s boat crash, it came all at once, lumping the mourning into one period. Now, the Cardinals are forced again to pull their strength together.
Are the Cardinals “cursed”? It’s probably without reason, but they have been the most troubled team since the turn of the millennium. They’ve been the Def Leppard of ballclubs—every time you think you’ve gotten over the ultimate hurdle, another about 12 feet taller stands in front of you.
Maybe the real curse lies in the Cubs-Cards series. The last two times St. Louis has battled inner death, they’ve been playing the Cubs. If I were on either one of those teams, I would be petrified to see the schedule in the near future if it has them playing in primetime.
A great article on a blog Freudianly titled “Deadspin” cites Hancock’s impactà “His sudden departure -- shocking, horrible, insane -- makes us feel as if we have lost something that we never realized we had. We want to go back and cheer harder for him, forgive his mistakes more easily ... treat him as human in a way we never did as a mere fan. He shifts from middle reliever to human being only in death; this can drive a fan mad with guilt and confusion” (http://deadspin.com/sports/josh-hancock/rip-josh-hancock-256275.php)
In addition, the loyal Cardinals fans who had good relationships with both Kile and Hancock are left to face the mourning again…cursed or not.
“There really is ‘Cardinal love’. After a big win, as the crush of fans makes their way from Busch Stadium, the atmosphere is electric. Cardinals’ fans from different cities and different backgrounds unite together through thick and thin. We can celebrate the good. We can recover from the bad.” (http://apps.dennews.com/blog/?p=196)
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