Monday Meatloaf - one belt loop from being dressed to the nines

The bonny Lines therein thou sent me,
How to the nines they did content me. - William Hamilton

I took worship Saturday night at The Tabernacle. It turned into a journey that any Trucker fan would appreciate. There were no kickoff coverage problems. Penn Wagers didn't exist in this realm. And sure, Work might be up by two touchdowns deep in the fourth quarter right now, but for a few hours Saturday night I was 3 Dimes Down and endlessly one belt loop away from making Sunday night's news. To put it in terms we all can understand, it was like the 2006 victory on the Plains. Or maybe the 1997 in Jacksonville. There was highlight after highlight. My eyes couldn't absorb all the action and my ears failed to drink it all in. I found myself at the feet of one Mike Cooley and Patterson Hood had the keys to my musical soul.

The Living Bubba

They told me "It ain't too late to take a deep breath and throw yourself into it with everything you got." So as we swam through Muscle Shoals we stopped to fill our coffee cups with whiskey, understanding that the morning would likely be a bitch with open arms. We went down so far into Gran Gran's Box of Spiders that even the Devil won't stay. Of course we met Mom...and Dad even though he was playing poker on a stump in the woods. Sheriff Pusser was there shutting down the stills and whores. Lucky for us cuz that rotgut moonshine had us sick to our stomachs. And of course Lucille had us frustrated and ready to go over the edge of Lookout Mountain. So we swore we'd never go back to Buttholeville.


Athens bound we ran into the dearly departed Gregory Dean Smalley who had another show to do. Living fast and drinking lots we stumbled into the 40 Watt without a political agenda or a message for the youth of America. But there was sound, lights, drums and guitars and so it came to pass. Uncle Frank's fifteen rocky acres may have been the hardest to traverse. But proud of the glory we stared down the shame and shouted at the top of our lungs - "LET THERE BE ROCK!!"


By the time we were done we had taken The Weight off Levon and we were somewhere outside of Zip City. I shouted "Hell no I ain't happy" because I was scared shitless of what was coming next. Sure enough, Hood laid his guitar down and John and Jay followed. Things wore down slowly to where it was just The Ezy-B and the congregation of characters who now understood that living in fear's just another way of dying before your time. Morgan's rhythmic beauty closed the door ever so slowly, effortlessly. Quietly, and with the electricity still buzzing in my ears, I finished what was left in my cup and joined the huddled masses streaming out of the hall.


The Rock Show was over, but there were angels in the trees on Luckie Street waiting on me.


Today's Ingredients

• Before I forget, tomorrow I'll have a livestream up for the SEC Spring Coaches' teleconferences. Starts at 10am. Richt comes on at 11:40am.
• In case you missed it, the men's tennis team took the SEC hardware from Starkville this weekend.
• From the track to the diamond, T Kyle King wraps up pretty much everything from the weekend in UGA Athletics.
• Travis takes on the massive task that is putting AJC readers in their place. 
• Lady Sportswriter says Drew Butler is getting some help prior to the NFL Draft from a familiar person.
• The college career of Blair Walsh was full of ups and downs. The Senator weighs in on the lesson we should take from that.
• Dawg19 uploaded another classic this weekend. Better take a towel.
• And speaking of classics, we'll grab another video from "carlmilton" for tomorrow's GATArchive. You don't want to miss this one.
• Attention Leatherheads: new LHB writer Michael Booker finds Murray and Jarvis as two of the nation's top players.
• Lastly, via our old friend Hale's BookFace...good news for Coach MusChomp, bad news for jort wearing computer engineers.

And just when the struggling jort themed porn market was poised to take off. Damn.

Tony Parker Decision Day is here y'all. At 4pm we finally find out where he's going, and more specifically where he's not going. We've been down this road already, you and I. I still maintain the latter is Athens and the former I'll go out on a limb and say is a program with greater fanfare than Coach Fox's. 


Now, I'll admit that Georgia has a better shot at this than I first figured. As each calendar day is ripped off Fox's chances have improved. Mama likes us and that's always a good thing. But how could a kid with that much talent choose us over them? How in the world does that happen? Isn't there some NCAA bylaw that Coach K NEVER lose a kid to Stegeman Coliseum? UCLA has more trophies than we have donors in the seats on a Saturday night in February.


Yep, I'll stand by my original wager. I'll wear a dress if Parker says he'll play in Athens today. The picture will be up tomorrow should it happen. I'll gladly let my girls dress me up to the nines, heels and all, then snap some pictures while they giggle. They'll love it.


And I'll be giggling like a little schoolgirl myself, believe me. Unfortunately, it'll be UCLA...or Kansas...or Duke...or a year abroad learning basket weaving in Romania. We don't get Tony Parker today. No way. No how. But you can get a fork Reader. The meatloaf is ready. Dig in.

Bernie