"What's the good word?" Dominance.

Why do Tech fans hate us so much?

19-3.

The Drought Breaker

That's Georgia's record versus little brother since Coach Mark Richt took over in 2001. He then went on to dominate this "rivalry" game to the tune of 13-2. And this is your daily reminder that CMR never , ever lost at his home away from home - Bobby Dodd Stadium.

Kirby is 6-1. With a win Friday night, he'll be one win short of tying the longest streak in the series which belongs to the Jackets at 8 games. "The Drought Breaker", Theron Sapp, helped end that streak in 1957. 

In essence, this rivalry was set on its ear once Vincent Joseph Dooley was hired in 1964. Ever since, Georgia coaches have made a living out of beating Tech, only Donnan has had a losing record in the series. Even Goff went 5-2!

While official record books have the series in Georgia's favor 71-41-5, Dawg fans prefer Coach Magill's 71-39-5. Tech played football at home in 1943-44 while Georgia men were abroad saving the world from sprecking the deutch. Here, the BDB staff holds the series count at 72-38-5. Because Jasper's knee was DOWN GODDAMMIT!!

Either way, the good word is definitely DOMINANCE. Go Dawgs! Tuck fech.

Hate week - signature wins and early thoughts

I've made no secret that I have not been impressed by Miami this season. But that is the North Avenue Trade School's signature win. They beat the Hurricanes a few weeks ago 28-23 at Bobby Dodd Stadium at Hyundai Field that Coach Mark Richt owns and drove his Ford F150 through for a decade and a half.

Most notably, this is the game where Coach Brent Key and his staff established a two QB system in King/Philo. Haynes King was coming back from an injury, but Aaron Philo had showed them something the week before in a loss at VA Tech. He didn't have a great game coming off the bench against the Hurricanes, but had himself a terrific night last week against the mighty Wolf Pack.

Anyway, they found a rhythm substituting their signal callers and Buster Faulkner called a great game in taking down an undefeated and, quite frankly, underwhelming Miami team.

Meanwhile, what is Georgia's signature win? Texas on the road or Tennessee at home? Whichever, I'd also put Clemson (neutral site) ahead of Miami (homeish, also in Benz Dome).

At home. Dooley Field at Sanford Stadium (that is not named for a foreign car brand). At night. I expect a strong fight from the Jackets. Key has them at least willing to do football type things that Collins' squads found elusive - tackling, running fast, blocking, tackling. 

But still, we should stomp these jokers! Go Dawgs!

Chaos theory and vegan nerds

Well, this didn't age well. But really, who knows how this college football season will end up.

As college football fans, we don't root for teams other than our own. But we fervently root for chaos. The more chaotic the better. So Saturday night did not disappoint.

And to this point I need to give credit where it's due. I was against expanding the playoffs (and am still reluctant to embrace it fully) because I was worried it would dilute the regular season.

For 2024, it definitely hasn't. It's actually expanded the scope of what is relevant.

Get a BIG neck. Eat a steak nerds! - Erk Russell, probably

I actually switched over to the Indiana game Saturday at times just to check in. At least, I did until they were officially wetting the bed. Any previous season, I doubt that happens. And I bet many of you can say the same.

I've been telling people for weeks, now the only way to ensure the CFB Playoff committee can't screw you over (like last year) is to make the SEC Championship Game. Win, you get a bye. Lose, you've proven you are the second best team in the nation's best conference.

So we've moved from worrying if there will be three or four SEC teams in the playoff, to which SEC newbie will meet us in Atlanta.

For now, couldn't care less. That's something to think about on Saturday. It's Tuck Fech week! GATA!

Clean Old Fashioned Hate - turnovers

I mentioned yesterday the importance of winning time of possession. The fact is that last year we won time of possession against Tech, although the second half was a near 50/50 split.

However, we didn’t protect the football, which is part of the reason why our defense was playing that last Tech drive with their hands on their hips in between plays. Our first three second half possessions went field goal, touchdown, field goal. But the last three went punt, interception, interception. (VIA)

The difference this season is that this team knows how to close a game. The coaches know how to make the adjustments and communicate them effectively to the players.

Plus, Georgia is a decently good +2 on the season in turnover margin, while Tech is -4. (VIA)

A lot of people are poking Tech fans over that loss last weekend to Duke. And yes, it was ugly. But it tells me Johnson will have these enginerds ready to play. There’s no game that means more to him than the last of the season.

But the reality is that we are way too talented to lose to Tech. Protect the football and keep the defense rested and it should be a fun one for us to watch.

Don’t do those things, and we should just prepare to gnash the teeth deep into the fourth quarter.

Sunday thoughts on the fourth quarter

The game was in hand. The players had made plays and the coaches had called a good game. We were running the ball well and the defense was limiting the triple option's effectiveness.

The game was in hand. And then it was not.

Sure, we can point to a bad pass, a drop, or a missed tackle. But that loss is 100% on the coaches. We got away from what was working and paid mightily for it. Hell, the third quarter was masterful as we stepped on them and opened up a thirteen point lead.

For 50 minutes Kirby and his staff had the better plan and the better adjustments. The last ten minutes was a clinic in what not to do to close out a ball game.

On a larger scale, I'm really disappointed because it seemed we had turned a corner. It seemed as if things were starting to click between a young coaching staff and their young players. It really just puts me at a loss for words.

I'm glad this season is over. And it makes me sad to type that.

Friday Misery - Love. Family. Tradition. Georgia.

Still stuffed from so so much turkey y'all. I think I'm just gonna throw a few words on top of some pics and then call it a night...

Autumn Fire: Love from Georgia Football on Vimeo.

Damn. Well then. I stand corrected.

Tradition. Saturday. Athens.

I ain't telling you anything you didn't already know. I'm just telling you what you want to hear.

We didn't come this far...we didn't endure those trips...we didn't run those drills...we didn't walk that walk...we didn't cry those tears...we didn't raise that flag...we didn't join our hands...we didn't attack the day...we didn't move those chains...we didn't drain that clock...we didn't pack that house...we didn't stretch that ball...we didn't black out...we didn't drink them cocktails...we didn't refuse to lose faith...we didn't challenge our own endurance...we didn't force their hand...we didn't commit to the G...and we didn't look our our own faults in the mirror...

...without wanting, without needing to finish this season tomorrow. In Athens. In Sanford.

You. Me. Us.

Together. Family is Georgia and Georgia is Family. We're not in this for one game. And we're not here just for one season. We're joined by a common bond. And we unite one more time together to fulfill one objective.

Win.

More.

In one word we find the true meaning of this game - Clean old fashioned hate.

Who wants this more? Do you?

The last Saturday of the season isn't about bowl game selection and it's not about television pundits. Relegated to another midday affair, we must rally and we must be ready. We must slough off the lethargy, the gravy, the discontent, and the discord. We must suffer on to fight. We must be strongest when the face of our enemy is at its boldest. We must hold on.

I'm tired. You're tired. They're tired. The easiest thing would be to let go, and take whatever comes. But that's not how you're built. That's not how I'm made. That's not why they ran themselves so hard. The song says we're a little unsteady, but together we can make this stand.

We are Georgia. We are Family. We stand together and we will endure these last sixty minutes. Because they are our last. As one we will rise to meet our seniors and we will pour our hearts, our souls, and every ounce of our voices into this team's spirit. They run out of the tunnel and we run down the aisles. They stop their ball carrier and we rise as one to crush their spirit.

I enter Sanford tomorrow with the memories of legends past. I gaze upon the hallowed turf through the eyes of those that have set the bar so high - Stanfill, Hines, Amp, Wansley, (JASPER WAS DOWN GODDAMMIT!!), Kanon Parkman, Bobo to Allen, and the greatest of all...the Drought-Breaker..Theron Sapp!

Take my hand. Let's do this together. Records don't matter, because tradition is on our side. It's red. It's black. And it lives within us. Now please, bow your heads...Dear Lord God....please let tomorrow be Al Ford's day at the methodone clinic. Thanks and pass the gravy one more time! Amen.

Smell the turkey, smell the hate

Thanksgiving week is such a blessing and a curse. But the thought of Saturday has me all like...

Enjoy your day with family, friends, and loved ones. Go Dawgs!

Friday Misery - "propelled by some mysterious drive"

A few things before I call an audible.
1. This was a hectic travel week.
B. The several paragraphs for this post I did manage to write were chop blocked garbage.
4. Y'all know already I want to win this game.
And C. I've grown tired of being that guy standing on his lawn yelling into a tornado to get of my lawn.

So today, something different. I mean, only two of you are actually at home instead of in a line at a Wal-Mart to save $50 on a 27" flat screen, and have internet connectivity, and aren't in a food coma. Meanwhile, the family and I have about 500 miles to cover between my in-laws and my birthday bourbon. So, let's chat! Most of I-85 has decent cell signal.

To participate you must be over eighteen years of age, you have to watch the video (NSFW) below as it is today's theme song, and you have to have already read every single #FridayMisery in its entirety. Or, at least a half of one.

And please, send in your qualified comments/questions. Preferably in the comments below, but you can also tweet one to me with #FridayMisery tagged (for disclosure and publication approval) and I'll find a way to add it.

Now, some narcissism, some OCD. (again, NSFW)

...

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..   ....  ....


What? You need inspiration? C'mon man. Let's beat the enginerds! Go Dawgs!

Discussions on the table

Repeat after me..."Program first. Always."

So much temptation to spout off about "December decisions". So much gravy there y'all. But, there's a game this week. I don't care if it's Richt last game, next to last, or the next of a hundred more. Let's join hands and focus together.

They beat us last year. That was awful. Remember?

The AJC's Mark Bradley, Jeff Shultz, and Paul
Johnson celebrate 'tween the hedges.

Discussions not on the table until at least supper time Saturday:

1. Schoddy gotta go! Sure, I was just talking about how this is Richt's worst hire since he promoted fourth and Willie. But we can talk about this later. Trust me. TRUST ME! Refocus point: how can we move the ball against this terrible defense? Is Keith Marshall finally healthy? Does our schoddy OC have the stones to bend ol' turkey neck over and make him gobble?
2. Pruitt is done. Defense has played lights out of late. Let's just turn our heads away from whatever it was he may or may not have done last month and focus on stopping this vaunted option offense. Refocus point: how can we create turnovers for our schoddy offense? How can Leonard Floyd and Jordan Jenkins improve upon what they did last week?
3. Richt is done. He owns these bastards. Whether you like the man or not, you owe him the support of rooting and cheering and believing and barking and kicking their ass yet again at Historic Mark Richt Field. Refocus point: get your head out of your ass.
4. We're going to lose anyway. Refocus point: 1) you're at the wrong blog again dumbass. 2) you're getting real late for your jump onto the Auburn bandwagon. 3) you're tater tots are burning and Michael Wilbon's mom would like a word at the top of the stairs.

Discussions that are on the table with the stuffing and the gravy and the turkey leg(s) and the pumpkin pie and the handle of bourbon and the sweet potatoes and the stuffing again and the fork you forgot to use at the in-laws' table and your wife is glaring at you again:

1. Why we should always beat Tech and why this is an important game despite what you just read on twitter and the dawgvent and your second cousin that took 12 semester hours of classes on North Avenue's facebook feed.

We beat Tech. We do it TOGETHER!! Because if we don't, we're no better than they are.

Not much left to say, except y'all enjoy some family and friends the next couple days, don't patron any business that forces employees to work during a God honest Holiday, and I'll see you back here Friday morning. And also, don't be a dipshit. Go Dawgs! 

Oh, and repeat after me again...Program first, always. ALWAYS. Beating tech is good for Georgia. Period!

Humpday Hilarity - Grizzard's rivalry jokes

If you don't mind football players going to class as long as it's basketball season, or didn't have enough pimples to get into the North Avenue Trade School, then you'll enjoy this one.

Remember the squib kick. Never forget.

There was evidently a replay of the last edition of "Clean Old-Fashioned Hate". (h/t Weiszer)

Yes, that's the official engiNerd Twitter account and their radio guy in response. Maybe they were the only ones watching. But then again I didn't bother to click on the "THWG" hashtag.

Anyway, just a cautious reminder as to why this rivalry is important. And what it feels like when that blind squirrel gets their nut.

Monday's Meatloaf - "I'll see you at graduation tonight, son."

Those weren't the last words I ever heard Mr. Mac say to me, but they were perhaps the most meaningful. Most educators will freely admit that they, at least partially, go into the field for those precious two months in the summer. If you meet one that says otherwise, they're either lying or fresh out of college. Probably both. But I feel comfortable speaking for those of us who are also very dedicated to making young lives better equipped for their future, that our hearts are anchored in our career.

And if you were to condense his (estimated) five foot nine, three hundred pound frame into one thought, that was Mr. Mac. I was saddened with the news of his passing earlier this month. So glad he had 77 years on this Earth to enrich the lives of everyone that came within his orbit.

My two most vivid memories of Mr. Mac are bookends to my high school career. As a freshman at Cedar Shoals someone broke into the locker room. While Coach Scott blew his whistle and as we expertly performed fitness drills in the gym, the thieves made off with some misdemeanor type valuables. I lost a grand total of five dollars and a belt. It was traumatic. Guess that new Yes album would have to wait. 

The next day I was called into the principal's office. Even though my dad had told me Mr. Mac was the gentlest of giants, I was petrified. The principal's office? I hadn't done anything, but obviously I was at fault for something. I remember sitting there in the chair across from his desk, waiting for whatever punishment it was I was there for to present itself. "I hadn't done anything!", I continued to scream inside my head. I'm sure y'all remember how the teenage mind can relentlessly torture its host in every way imaginable. And my imagination was in overdrive.

Mr. Mac finally walked in and introduced himself. "You're Dr. B's son right?" Immediately I was struck by his kindness. He came across as the most down to Earth school principal I'd known in all my years of formative education. Then again, he also seemed as big as the Earth itself. In the end, I had no idea how true that thought was.

The rest of conversation was lost in a blur of a heightened heart rate and the type of nervousness only a teenage boy of fourteen who is not wearing nearly enough anti-perspirant can understand. After a few moments he reached deep into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, grabbed a five dollar bill, and handed it to me as he stood up.

He then smiled as I took the bill from his large hand. "I'm sorry my belt won't fit you." He winked as he said it, just to make sure I was completely at ease. I'm sure I thanked him in some awkward manner. And I hope some measure of sincerity was transmitted.

Today's Ingredients
- My dad told me that one March, Mr. Mac showed him a stack of papers bound together. Each one represented a home visit he made for a CSHS student who was in trouble of some sort. Here's a fund set up to continue such efforts for the Cedar Shoals community in his name, if you're so inclined.
- Hope you caught our tailgate roundtable. If not, here they are in order of appearance: quarterbacks, center, receivers, defensive standout, Coach Pruitt, schedule, and overall feelings.
- August isn't even here yet and Tyler is already looking at some cupcakes in November. I see his overall point, but Georgia Southern stands above the rest of those he clumps together. They've taken down Florida and gone toe to toe with Bama in Tuscaloosa.
- They also came as close if not closer than the Dawgs at taking the "State Champs" stamp off of Tech's shiny new 2014 rings.
- Speaking of the engiNerds, the AJC may have missed the latest chapter in Reuben Houston drug story, but Blutarsky didn't.
- And speaking of non-conference scheduling, G&B Attack looks at the Gamecocks' future slate.
- MaconDawg has a look at Coach Richt's new 2017 commit, DeeJay Dallas.
- "So many people." Weiszer writes about the spectacle Dawg Night has grown into.
- Over at Field Street Forum there's a challenge that, should you choose to accept it, could drop a lucrative prize into your lap. (No, not Bama in Sanford tickets. I'm talking about "BRAGGING RIGHTS" son!)
- I'm as much a sucker for a sucker punch at Coach Nicky as the next guy.
- Jason Isbell is a master at lyrics. Here are some words regarding the new album that I found rather astute.

Both literally and figuratively, I was ready to put Trigonometry in the rear view mirror. It was the last exam that stood between me and life beyond the last 12 years of formal education; one final hurdle before I cranked up my 1967 Malibu Chevelle and conquered the world.

(not an) Actual picture of me performing some mathing

I resisted the temptation to speed through the parking lot. As the rest of the underclassmen finished their last day of school, I was heading home mid-morning, with nothing to do but go back to sleep...after setting an alarm that would allow me to (possibly) brush my hair, (potentially) brush my teeth, walk across the stage, and accept my ticket to adulthood.

Yes, every ounce of me wanted to punch the gas and crank Telegraph Road one last time as I peeled onto Cedar Shoals Drive. But I was also compelled to savor the moment. And I was glad I chose the latter.

At the end of the one way conduit from the student parking lot to the front drive beside the school sat a metal chair doing its best to contain a man better suited for a La-Z-Boy. Even as a soon to be graduate, I wasn't one that was familiar with the ins and outs of leaving campus before the final bell. While I wait for you to stop laughing I'll simply add that based on my limited experience there was a 50-50 shot of getting the security officer as opposed to clear passage. I'll also add that the seniors had been reminded (repeatedly) that if we intended to leave campus early we were to bring a note from home.

"Good morning Mr. Mac."
"How'd the trig final go?"
[What?!? How'd he know? Oh God, I'm doomed to go spend four hours in the library shelving books or something. Damnit! DAMNIT!!!!]
"Um..good Mr. Mac. I, um..."
"You forgot a note didn't you?"
"Yessir. I just.."
"I'll see you at graduation tonight, son."

Suddenly I was that awkward 14 year old again - overly excited and equally amazed by my principal's ability to relate. He moved his steel chair from the middle of the lane to the side so that I could pass and gave me a wink.

It was the same wink Doug McLaughlin gave me later that evening when I crossed the stage at Stegeman Coliseum and received my diploma. My formative education was done. That one wink, just as his incredibly firm handshake and every single slap on the shoulder he gave me and thousands of other students that passed him in the hall on the way to their next class, told me that what was waiting for me tomorrow was greater than anything I could leave behind in a trail of gas fumes and a Mark Knopfler solo.

Mr. Mac always had the bigger picture. I'm proud to have shared a few frames in it.

Have a great Monday y'all!

The JJ Green proposition?

McGarity and Bobinski had themselves a text-chat. What emerges may need to be named after the former Georgia defensive back.

Athletic directors Greg McGarity and Mike Bobinski spent quite a bit of time on the phone this week conferring about their schools’ respective transfer policies in light of Green’s decision.

“Mike and I have been in communication and, moving forward, we’re in agreement there should not be any reasons to not grant the wishes of any student-athlete who might want to transfer between our institutions as long as there has been no tampering,” McGarity said.  “As long there’s been nothing done to recruit a current student-athlete, as long as it’s on the up-and-up – which is the case as I understand it with J.J.

“What’s the downside? The only downside is that student-athlete may come back and have a great game against you. But if they’re not happy at the University of Georgia, they should be happy somewhere else.”

Two keys to continue Richt's domination

Because we can all remember a time when Kyle Karempelis was in the game to give Carlton Thomas a rest, tomorrow is about the seniors. These guys helped bring the program from the brink of ineptitude. They turned the ship around and have given it their all. I'll get more personal on this topic later, but for now...thank you!

1. Disciplined defense. Stop the dive. Mind your gap. Tackle like grown damn men.
2. Neutralize their linebackers. Use Chubb et al. to keep them honest and then Mason has to throw over them to keep them guessing.

Bonus: from Robert, "come out of the tunnel like we hate those SOB's and they just cussed our mama."

Erk's Legend of MamboGook

As relayed before...

Erk Russell always had a way with communication. Otherwise "GATA!" would've never been born from GTAA, Georgia Tech Athletic Association. Or whatever the hell.

So when the lesson turned to gap integrity, Erk used this story of Mambo Gook to communicate the importance of being where you're supposed to be, doing what you're supposed to be doing. "If you think you're coming my way, that's the wrong hole brother, because you ain't gonna make nothin' here."

So, with that in mind...as promised.

The "Mambo Gook" story goes like this: A young Georgia Tech engineering graduate had been working in the oil fields of Saudi Arabia for around six months. He was about to go stark raving mad because the only women that he had seen in Arabia were those dressed in the long gowns with the veils covering their faces. The women were not very friendly at all. As a matter of fact, he hadn't spoken to one since he had been working there.

He had been used to the feminine pulchritude of Peachtree Street in Atlanta and missed that scenery and his feminine companionship more than anything else. As he was sitting in the little bar at the golf course there in Saudi Arabia, he happened to be seated next to one of the local sheiks.

This particular sheik had spent some time in the United States and conversed with the young engineer as best he could with the little English he could speak. As they sipped on their drinks the young engineer expressed to the sheik that he liked everything fine, except he really missed the feminine companionship that he once enjoyed back in Atlanta. The sheik could get enough out of the conversation to understand what the young man meant. He promised the engineer that he would have, from his harem, one of his wives waiting for him when he got off from work the following afternoon.

Well, the young engineer hustled and worked through the day. He could hardly wait until quitting time. As he approached his tent, he saw this woman standing out front with her long gowns and veil. He figured that she knew why she was there and he surely knew why she was there, so he wouldn't waste any time. He picked her up right there at the tent flap, rushed her inside, threw her down on the cot and commenced to making wild, passionate love to the woman. Immediately she began to shout, "Mambo Gook," "Mambo Gook." She repeated that over and over and over again. The young engineer figured this was an Arabian expression of ecstasy.

Well, it didn't take too long for the young man to finish the first round and as soon as he relaxed his grasp, the woman still screaming, "Mambo Gook," ran through the tent flap and disappeared across the desert, continuing to scream, "Mambo Gook."

The next day the young engineer and the local sheik had made arrangements to play golf and the young engineer wanted a chance to thank the sheik for his courtesy of having the woman there. As they played the first hole, the sheik hit a magnificent shot, straight to the green, the ball hit, bounced and rolled right into the cup. It was a great golf shot and the young engineer wanted to express the greatness of that shot with something more than the usual, "Nice shot," or, "Great shot." The thought of the Arabian expression of ecstasy occurred to him, and he said, "Mambo Gook, sheik, Mambo Gook.".

The sheik turned to him, looked at him with amazement and said, "What do you mean, wrong hole?"

-  pages 50-51, from Erk: Football, Fans and Friends 

Erk hated Tech, therefore, so do we.

From the words of his players, remembering the greatest college football coach to ever blow a goddamn whistle.

I know I've slacked off this week. But before you leave for Sanford Stadium, make sure you read the Legend of MamboGook, which I'll repost here shortly. 

Erk wanted to beat Tech more than any other. If you can't feel that, please stay home.

Guys like Mac hate Tech, therefore, so do we.

I see you there, wallowing in your own misery. Feeling sorry for yourself because Missouri is going back to Atlanta. Some of you are even mad at Arkansas, even though we were first and goal late against Sakerlina...even though we were up 7-0 in the first quarter in Jacksonville.

Wipe those cheap ass tears dumbass. We've got Tech tomorrow!! Our seniors deserve better than your weak, sniveling, pathetic sobs.

I'm an old guy, but young enough that I need to be reminded of a certain rivalry's importance. Mac was kind enough to oblige.

My love with the Georgia Dawgs began way back in 1957 with me attending my first Georgia football game...I was 8 years old.  Our neighbor would load up his Ford station wagon with some 12-14 boys from Cobb Street and off we would go to Athens.  If you were under 18 years of age, you could get in Sanford Stadium by purchasing a high school student ticket for $1.00...sat in the GG section...the Green Grass hill where the flagpole is today.   Even sat on the railroad tracks a few times. I have been attending UGA games for 57 years...have not missed many...even in my Marine Corps years was able to get to many...once all the way from Okinawa.  In this season of my life, I realize I don't have that many football seasons left...but I will always pull for the Dawgs.

57 years has taught me to dislike Auburn and Florida and South Carolina and Tennessee but I genuinely hate Georgia Tech.  And with my memories of the Tech games...I always think of Coach Erk RUSSELL...G.A.T.A.  and  TUCK FECH...Erk was and will always be the original Damn Good Dawg!!!

That's the key. Time teaches us to hate other football teams. Clean Old Fashioned Hate is born right here in our hearts and grown from Georgia's own red clay.

Go Dawgs!

TOUCHDOWN!! MASSAQUOI!!

Tyler is right, Paul Oliver should be remembered as one of the greatest of all bug killers. But today is Mohammed Massaquoi's birthday. What better what to say Happy Birthday than to remember that 2006 drive. Go Dawgs!

Tech to faceplant in Sanford again

Two years ago Tree got medieval on a little pipsqueak. You don't want to miss whatever happens this year. So get your tickets here.

"Boooooo bumblebees! Go Georgia Bulldogs!!"

An important reminder from Gabby, one of the Dawgs' most energetic little cheerleaders.