From one week ago to one week from today

Dear Fragile Georgia Fan,

One week from right now we all heard the cries. We were practically in unison. It all sucked, and it was so, so painful. Even though we came into September knowing we'd face some growing pains we didn't know it'd cost us a Homecoming game against Vanderbilt.

Brutal.

But then you went a bridge too far. Woke up Sunday to some saying they'd be back when Kirby had a chance to get his own players. Many of y'all even said you were done completely; you can longer stand the thought of standing alongside the rest of us.

Good riddance. Because what lies ahead is not for the feint of heart or those who can't unwind their panties in time to put on their big boy britches.

One week from right now we play Florida. If you're not down there with me and the team and the rest of the real fans, I hope you tune in and hunker down with your big screen tv. I hope you'll join me as just a guy that can never give up on his team. A guy that believes you endure the hard times to enjoy the good.

I didn't become a dad just to cheer when my kid scores a goal. I didn't become a dad just to be there when my kid walks across the stage at graduation. I became a dad to see them through the lows so that they can get back up and walk forward again.

Similarly, I didn't become a Georgia fan just to pick and choose which seasons I wear red. I didn't become a Georgia fan to see the teams compete only during championship games. I want to hurt so I can truly feel the joy. I want to withstand the storm so that the Sun is that much brighter.

If you're as ready for the last five games as you were the first six, let's join hands. If you're not done whining and you'd like another few weeks to finish your self-pity smoothie...well, we'll see you whenever you find a chinstrap that snaps tight enough.

Go Dawgs!

Help a Gator Hater out

Do you know someone that needs to hate the gators more? Well, then show them this website and help a UGA student earn some extra credit for his class before the WLOCP. 

Go Dawgs!

Owning up.

Before my blood starts to boil too heavily. Before Butchie lays one more brick. Before the Dawgvent fires one more coach. I need to let y'all know that I won't be in Sanford for the season's biggest game Saturday. 

And I'm totally fine with it.

VIA

Parenthood calls as the oldest has a dress picked out for her first Homecoming dance. Once the game time was announced last week I entertained the idea of trying to be in two places at once, but the wife reminded me that I'm no longer superhuman, and that there's doubts I ever was. And I refuse to go for just a half and leave two empty seats without voices, ones that will no doubt be needed.

Why is this any of your business? Well, I've always went about this blogging thing with the idea that its voice would not come from the outskirts. I want its voice to come from the crowd! After all, just a few days after my first ever post at BerniesDawgBlawgDOTcom we traveled out to Tempe AZ and drank that town dry! Sure, there have been some times when I've missed home games and many times when I've missed away games, yet still wrote about them. But...it's just different.

Plus, I plan to tear Tenersee a new ass this week. And I want to come clean that I won't be there Saturday to walk the walk (this time), as it were and so to speak. These bastards still haven't stop laughing about Chubb's injury last year. They play cover up the crime more often than they shove funnels of boxed wine up their nether regions.

I hate tennessee. I will be here all week to let you know how much. I will be here everyday to help you intensify your own hillbilly loathing. I will give you your weekly dose of misery on Friday, filled to the brim with angst and anger towards these dumb ass inbreds with a fanciful bricklayer as their coach.

I just can't join you Saturday, because it fills my heart more to see my girl wear a corsage that I picked out for her.

Go Dawgs! And also, Go Dads!

Coach Richt - a personal memoir from his era

"Being a part of Georgia is something I get to do everyday. 

And I'm very grateful for it." 

"That I loved Georgia and I did it the right way."

- Mark Richt

It's been a hard week. You've probably heard all the analogies of losing a friend, saying goodbye, grief and loss. But it's also a time of reflection, remembrances, and thankfulness. Thankful because Georgia football is where it is today because of this man.

Mostly, I take solace in seeing that Coach Richt is at perfect peace. After all, it will be him and his lovely wife Kathryn that will certainly work hard to make the transition easier for his staff and their families, all while making a big transition of their own.

So I’ve started this post three different times in three different ways. Approximately 1500 words later I’ve come to realize that this tweet is the best that I’ve got.

In the end, my kids learned to be Georgia Bulldog fans in the @MarkRicht era. As a dad, I wouldn't have it any other way. Go #Dawgs!

— Bernie (@BernieDawg) November 29, 2015

I also realize that I’m writing this for posterity in many ways. Something to look back on fondly, in all its highs and lows, and with a tone of appreciation and thankfulness. Something to help my own kids (maybe even my grandkids if we can manage to keep the Internet afloat that long) remember this time period that has come to a close. You know, a glimpse into what our house has been like since just before they were born all the way into their teenage years. Yes, perhaps the best way to show my appreciation of the Coach Richt Era is to recall some key moments of the last 16 years and 15 seasons and how we shared them as a family.

December 2000 - Richt is introduced as the new head coach to succeed Jim Donnan. I remember watching the press conference with my wife. We both remarked at how young he looked. I also remember seeing their kids (Johnathan, David, Zach, and Anya) sitting with Kathryn and immediately impressed with his genuineness in the way he talked about family, his faith, and wanting to win in Athens.

October 6, 2001 - Wife and I are watching the noon kickoff of the Georgia-Tennessee game. The Vols sprint out to that early lead, but it’s close from there on out. Unfortunately, Jenn has to leave for work at halftime when it’s tied 17-17. After P-44 Haynes secured the victory and the Hobnail Boot had broken their nose, I called her with the news.

“We won. We beat Tennessee in Knoxville!”

“No we didn’t. You’re lying.”

It was then that I realized I would never find the words to describe what had happened. Georgia had finished the drill. The team was confident in the moment of truth and had executed to perfection. What a strangely intoxicating feeling!

The girls with Coach, and some weird guy
whose hunker down done broke.

August 2003 - By now we have a one and a half year old and Richt has helped us knock the lid off the program with his first SEC title. The popularity of the program shows at “Picture Day”. I brought my little girl, complete with stroller and diaper bag, as well as my neighbor Allen and his young son Logan. Uga is the most popular pic, especially with kids, and we’re glad we are early as the mascot’s line is halfway around the Classic Center by the time we get there. After waiting for an hour or so, someone comes out and draws an imaginary line just in front of us and says that everyone behind that line isn’t getting a picture with Uga.

We dejectedly make our way to Richt’s line as he is a fairly close second to Uga at this point in his career. We’re not too far off either, but still find ourselves in a race against the clock before the event closes. Otherwise we’ve driven an hour and spent an entire afternoon waiting in lines for nothing. Should have made it easily, but this is before they cracked down on memorabilia hoarders that required so much attention for the twenty items they brought in. Five o’clock came and went and Richt was still posing and signing. He stayed an extra hour to fit everyone else in. He posed with my little girl and signed a picture to her. She smiled. What a great day!

The Tailgate Crew

September 2005/2006 - Wife and I make the road trip to Starkville and Nama and I make the one to Oxford the following year. There’s nothing like seeing the Dawgs on the road. And these two trips were highlight type experiences back during a stretch when Richt’s teams were world beaters on the road. The band, the road whites, singing Glory, Glory in an opponent’s stadium, the team coming over to greet the fans after the clock drains, Coach Richt with the thumbs raised to the crowd...ain’t nothing better than that as a Georgia Bulldog fan. And Coach Richt embraced all of it. He always said he loved Georgia. More importantly he always showed it with his actions. He walked the walk and this was the time period I really started to feel a connection with Mark Richt as both the coach of my football team as well as a man on this Earth.

September 2007 - My oldest is six and I think it was Western Carolina because I remember Conner asking me what a Catamount is. I answered like any proud, intelligent father would, “Hey sweetheart, the cotton candy guy is coming up the aisle!” Georgia rolls and the crowd is pretty into it. Even though the opponent was a cupcake, it was pretty exciting to see Stafford and Moreno and Brown and Massaquoi click on all cylinders. As we near halftime I begin to worry like most dads do when they bring their young ones to games - Is she going to ask to leave soon? I want to see some of these backups play. Plus the cotton candy is long gone. It’s a matter of time before she’s done as well. Which is why it caught me off guard when she looked at me, eyes full of excitement, and asked “Dad, can we stay the whole game?!?”

"Yes honey. We absolutely can stay the whole game." Got a little dusty up there all of a sudden.

September 2008 - Wife and I take the kids to the Central Michigan game. My youngest was four at the time and takes the entire scene in, from the flags on the field pregame to the trumpet in the southwest corner. She could do this because her older sister was taking care of searching for the cotton candy vendors. :)  Y’all probably remember the biggest highlight of the game. If you don’t, perhaps Mrs. Wendy’s question at pre-school the next Monday and Ainsley’s subsequent response will refresh your memory.

“Anything exciting happen this weekend?”

“Yeh! Knowshon jumped over a guy!!”

The next week, I start a blog before the South Carolina game and then we head out west to Tempe. Nama, Ann and I take the town by storm. AJ Green was superhuman and Knowshon defied gravity. It was a dry heat and we left it a dry town. Almost just like we found it. Again, ain’t nothing like being a Road Dawg!

Sun Devil Stadium

  Dawgs On Top!         

January 2009 - Speaking of Road Dawgs, the family heads down to Orlando to see Stafford and Moreno’s last game. Somehow we manage this without them realizing just how close we are to Disney World and avoid the trip costing an arm and a leg. (Sorry, kids. But to be fair we had recently taken y’all there...twice)

May 2009 - Here you can read about the one time I got to interview Coach Richt. And by interview, I mean when you have a buddy that wins a supermarket contest that allows you to eat nachos and ask the head coach a question. The post is a comical review of the evening, but it was a pretty cool experience for sure.

That time Kathryn and I had lunch and she
insisted on a picture with me.

December 2010 through 2011 offseason - Like any long term relationship, there is a period of darkness. I declare that Richt and I are on a break, which was my humorous way of coming to grips with Richt's only losing season.

June 2012 - The dance between embracing a coach and loving a program is a slippery one. In this post I attempt once again to reset the expectations as well as set the bar high. It was as difficult to read as it was to write, but I think it’s as fair an assessment as I could manage. The reason I mention it here is twofold: 1) we may look back on this 2012 team as one of Richt’s most talented and resilient, especially in terms of leadership within the roster, and 2) …..(next slide please)...

Rare moment when no one pictured
is on their Twitter phones.

December 2012 - My favorite post of the 4000+ in the history of the blog leads up to Coach Richt’s biggest game in his career (imho). Having responded to national lack of respect, and rallied the team after getting steam-rolled in Columbia SC, Richt leads the team back to Atlanta for the second year in a row. The Dawgs go toe to toe with mighty Alabama for the right to beat Notre Dame and become National Champions. The wife and I give everything we’ve got because that’s exactly what our team did. She showed the Bama fans around us what true team spirit looks like and I nearly out-sprinted Ogletree to the endzone on the blocked kick. I can honestly say, walking out of the Georgia Dome that night was the weirdest experience I’ve ever had as a Georgia fan. I’ve walked out of stadiums elated with wins and dejected over losses, many times over. But to feel so immensely proud while so very depressed was something I’ll never forget and I'll never get over.

Who has the bigger smile?

June 2014 - My youngest loves some football. If you follow me on twitter you know this already. She’s got quite the arm. Jennifer and I sign her up for Coach Richt’s camp and when I show up at Butts-Mehre to drop her off I’m less surprised that there are like 150-200 kids there than I am that there’s only one girl...the one I brought. Competing is easy for Ainsley, but taking the stares and the casual comments about her gender was less so. Still, Richt’s staff put her completely at ease. From his secretary Ms. Hunt to Coach Inman and everyone in between, she settled in and got in line. I was supposed to leave her for the day, but couldn’t help but return after one trip to Jittery Joe’s to see how things were going.

What’s the word for when the pride you have for your kid crosses paths with the pride you have in your team? At the end of the day, once again Coach Richt stayed late to sign all the t-shirts, pictures, gloves, and footballs. He wasn’t even upset when Ainsley pulled out of his line to get a picture with Christian Robinson first.

Sunday - Ironically, Ainsley and I had just finished throwing the football. As we walked into the house I checked my phone.

“Oh no. Really?”

“What is it Dad?’

“They fired Richt.”

From mine to yours Coach...thanks!

You blink and suddenly your little girl has gone from the excitement of Knowshon “jumping over a guy” to this young lady with beautiful eyes that are filled with the same questions an adult ponders - “What’s next? Who’s the coach? Where’d the time go?” - and you have to explain that this is one of those times when there are more questions than answers.

We had nearly 16 years and 15 seasons with one of college football’s greatest coaches. We saw Mark Richt grow from that young guy trying his best to emulate his own personal role models and make them proud, to a seasoned coach and a magnificent molder of young men. We're all better for the experience, all the highs and the lows and the in-betweens. As a dad, a fan, a man, an alum, an Athenian...I'm eternally thankful for the experience.

Come to think of it, perhaps there are two answers that I have after all. I know that the University of Georgia will never have a finer representative for the program we hold so dear. And I know that my family was blessed to have shared this time with him as part of the Georgia Bulldog Nation. 

Thanks for reading. And feel free to share your own memories below.

Go Dawgs!

Unpacking the Richt firing

I have a great way to honor the Coach Richt Era of Georgia Bulldog football. I should have it ready late today or tomorrow. Not sure you'll enjoy it as much as I have putting it together. But it has certainly helped me focus on his importance to this program, both on and off the field.

Because of the format I'm using for that post, some things I wanted to say are getting left out. But they're important enough to bring up as I sift through social media, my own feelings, and my own experiences.

First off, the only people that can piss me off more than gator fans, are Georgia "fans" that won't even acknowledge facts. It's like they're so caught up in specific stats (and to be perfectly fair, their own factual evidence) and their own viewpoint, that they can't even recognize what this man meant to the program and the University and the community. You would think that they'd all be new to Georgia, but some of these guys are my age. They should remember what it felt like to lose to Auburn consistently and lose three in a row against Tech. I mean, you'd think Mark Richt kicked their puppy or something.

Next, and here's where I think I'm truly in a minority, you can support the program first and foremost while also believing that Richt shouldn't have been fired. I see all these Facebook groups and Twitter accounts that, at least on the very surface, represent a group of people that put the man himself above the program. That's as dangerous as it is wrong. Don't get upset that Richt was let go just because you love the man. Look, I love him too. But he ain't hurting. We've made him wealthy beyond his dreams and he's going to make some other program better off and the world a better place too. Get upset if you're like me and feel that after what he's built, the man had earned the chance to see at least one more season of full financial and administrative support. More importantly, we had earned the chance to see that.

Last, is anyone else feeling down about how this played out and saying goodbye to someone you've grown to admire for the last decade and a half, yet excited about the future? I don't care if I'm alone there as well. But if you feel that way too, I want you to know that's okay as well.

Hey y'all, 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)

...

.....

..   ....  ....


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

You want answers? ... I WANT THE TRUTH!!

Hey, there's a game Saturday. Maybe you forgot that while wallowing around in your own pity. While you try to think up a new anonymous twitter or DawgVent handle so you can spout venom and regurgitate nonsense, the team is actually practicing for Kentucky!

The texts, the calls, the tweets, the comments....

I get it. But it's November. Richt ain't gonna pull a Spurrier and leave his team during the season with football left on the table. More importantly, McGarity isn't going to read your message bored post and fire anybody. You know why, because no one (of any consequence) would return his call to sign up for 2016 if he did.

You may not like Mark Richt and you may be sick of losing (like the rest of us I might add), but he's Georgia's best coach in the history of the program. There's a myriad of reasons he hasn't been more of a player in the SEC the last decade, most of which falls directly on his shoulders and all of which we can get into once the calendar flips one more time. He's in his 15th year and he ain't going anywhere until he decides he's done.

Maybe that's in a month, or maybe that's in five years. I don't know and I don't particularly care right now to be quite honest. I just want to beat Kentucky. I want to somehow and in some way see a damn touchdown. I want to teach my kids that there are things to really and truly celebrate in life, and watching the Dawgs play in Athens on a Saturday afternoon is one of them.

Maybe you're not that way. Okay. Fine. Please don't let me stand in the way of you and that wall you're banging your head against.

Look, I took my car flags down Sunday just like you. The difference is I had driven 300 miles and was standing in my driveway when they were pulled off the windows. You glanced over each shoulder in the hotel parking lot before breakfast and ripped em down as fast as you could.

Am I disappointed? You better believe it. Do I think the coaches need to answer some hard questions? Absolutely. It's absolutely illogical some of the things I'm seeing! I even suffered through the Bulldog Hotline, aka Lobbing Softballs at the Coach Hour Half-hour, to listen to...to listen to....something.

If you're so pissed that you can't stand it any longer, make a real statement - don't come Saturday, or don't turn on the tv, or don't even get the hell out of bed. That's making a statement if you're truly and absolutely done. It's going to be a noon kickoff after a miserable week. Your empty seat will speak volumes if you can convince enough people to follow your lead.

But that ain't me. Don't hold it against me. But I love Saturdays in Athens and I don't turn my back on my team. Like I said yesterday, every game is going to be a struggle down the stretch. 5-7 isn't off the table, but neither is 9-3. There's a time and a place for asking the hard questions. If you want to drive the #FireEmAll bus, go right ahead. I'm just sitting here with my red pompom waiting on another route to come by.

It's in my blood. I was never guaranteed it'd be easy. And I certainly haven't enjoyed the last month. But I'm supporting my team today just the same was I will come Saturday.

Go Dawgs!

Extra tickets in hand. Anyone looking?

Gonna be a beautiful day in Jacksonville this Saturday. Sunny with a 100% chance of football and a cocktail party to boot!

If you're not tied down by trick or treaters back home, and want to watch the Dawgs play on the bank of the St. Johns, I have just the thing you need - a ticket(s).

Before I give you the contact info, you must pass this one question test:

1. Are you a Georgia fan?

If you answered yes, I have four extra tickets. Two of them are in section 327, row 10, and the other two are in section 441, row F, seats 17-18. Just email me - berniedawg AT gmail. Shoot me your best offer. Go Dawgs!

Are you betting on Cinderella?

Will you be filling out a March Madness pool next week? Will you be confident in it enough to put some money behind your Final Four picks? Ever wonder why betting your own money isn't legal?

If the NCAA tournament was to take place in Europe or even some of the other continents in the world, the ability to wager a bet legally on proceedings would be readily available online. However, in the United States, as we know, this isn’t neither feasible nor a legal option.

The FBI predicts that $2.5 billion is wagered illegally during the March Madness NCAA tournament. This amount exceeds that spent on illegal wagering on the Super Bowl – a staggering statistic for a collegiate tournament.

Although little of that money will be wagered on our very own Bulldogs and more like on favorites Virginia, Kentucky and Duke it does beg the question as to why we cannot bet on events in the United States.

In 2011 Black Friday eliminated all online wagering sites and casino portals. And although some states have relaxed their gambling laws and allowed online casinos to once again operate, actual gambling on collegiate games is still prohibited.

It’s predicted that there is an increasing number of students betting on collegiate games – with some betting illegally online. Unlike in Europe where people are able to wager on a raft of sports like soccer, basketball and cricket, the United States just doesn’t allow this type of betting.

Additionally, the NCAA prohibits any forms of gambling and like most sports also bans people involved with team in the NCAA from providing outsiders with information on upcoming games. It’s understandable, as the last thing they want to do is call the NCAA’s integrity into question.

But part of the reason why so many seem to bet illegally on the NCAA is due to the fact that many “feel that they will make money from betting,” according to the NCAA’s ‘Gambling on Sports’ article. On top of that, many students feel that it adds an extra “fun factor” to games which attributes to a high percentage of betting.

With there being approximately $70 billion per year bet illegally on college football, too, the chances of this problem going away anytime soon is unlikely. Hence, why so many are now calling for it to be regulated like in Europe and other continents. As with anything that isn’t regulated comes problems and corruption. At least if it’s regulated, people will stop getting ripped off by bogus bookmakers and ultimately, procedures like Betting Responsibly can be put in place to educate people better on the ways of gambling responsibly.

Good news, and bad.

First, had a dream we made it to the SECCG. Coach Schotty evidently picked up right where Bobo had left off and all people could talk about around the tailgate spots outside the Dome was Chubb's amazing season. It was great (to dream about) tailgating with you all again, because it has been so long since we've had that smell of the charcoal and the buzz of music, cheering, and chatting against a backdrop of college football.

Wahoo! That part had me all like....

But...no one was dressed correctly. There weren't any wardrobe malfunctions, but there were plenty of poor wardrobe choices. Everywhere. Georgia fans were dressed down in other ill-suited colors and otherwise acting as if they were at a plain ol' picnic. I think I even saw a dude spreading a blanket over a Yellow Lot parking spot so his kids could have a seat and read a book.

And it wasn't just Georgia fans either. We were there to beat LSU, and none of their fans were dressed up for a Southeastern Conference college football game. That's even weirder, right?

WTF? That's not what we do here.

Friday's Miserable Meatloaf - Lemme introduce you to Beecher

I first met him several years ago. Maybe as many as ten. Honestly, I don't remember. But I know it was before this here blog started puttering upstream along The Internet. And I know it was after my second stint through UGA, which puts the meeting somewhere between beating Arkansas for the first SECCG and that time we drank all the beer in Tempe.

Speaking of beer, I was in a bar downtown having one and this guy comes in like a runaway train. By that I mean his entrance was a chaotic event that miraculously evaded complete and utter catastrophe an incidental death. An action as simple as opening a door and entering a room instantly became a calamity of flailing arms and legs; glasses were tossed into the air creating various flight paths for the beer, whiskey, and margaritas they had previously contained; a seeing eye dog panicked while aiding in the transition of his owner from table to restroom; napkins and swizzle straws multiplied in mid-air like rabbits on a dewy April lawn; in the corner a jukebox abruptly stopped playing the second chorus of Layla; and a waitress lost all manner of control of her language just as the room became otherwise deafly silent.

"GODDAMNIT BEECHER! YOU CAN'T F***ING BARGE THROUGH THE MOTHERF***ING DOOR LIKE A GODDAMN HYENA!!"

She yelled this at the height of her tumult through the air having tripped over Beecher's leg (or maybe it was his arm) which had propelled the tray of drinks toward a large table of thirsty patrons. After making sure the seeing eye dog didn't leave his owner abandoned and then helping the waitress to her feet, I offered a hand to pull this rangy, awkward stranger up from the floor.

"Thanks mister. At least I didn't spill beer in Rowena's hair this time. That really pisses her off."

"Not a problem. Let me get you a cold one. Looks like you could use a moment of stationary rehydration."

As he drank from the frosted mug, I marveled at how strangely tall Beech was. If he was six feet and a half, roughly 74 inches of that were his legs. Which might explain where all the beer went if just one of those legs were hollow.

We sat and chewed the fat for what seemed the whole afternoon, all the way through Happy Hour. Then moved from the bar to a corner booth where Rowena took our dinner order, surprisingly, without a single f-bomb. Somehow, in some way, Beecher had been forgiven for causing what surely amounted to six unhappy customers, $50 of broken barware, two and half tables of soggy pub food, and a black lab with post-traumatic stress disorder.

And that's how I met Beecher O'Callaghan.

Today's Ingredients
- Supposedly, there's like just over 200 days left until college football in Sanford begins again. Nothing is more miserable than this cold, melancholy, heartless winter we refer to as The Offseason.
- Personally, I've been biding time Raylan up in Harlan County. And also with Tuco and Mike and some skater dudes, as well as the world's best lawyer. The only one that can argue an executioner down from the death penalty to six months of rehab. Saul Goodman.

- And hey! The Hoop Dawgs are doing swell! Just in time for a visit from Bruce Pearl and those Auburn whateveryoumaycallits.
- And baseball starts this weekend! The Diamond Dawgs take the field in the shadow of a newly renovated Foley Field against the Eastern Illinois Panthers. PING!!
- From the Lies and other Sexy Half-Truths file, Blutarsky finds new Atlanta Falcons linebackers coach Dan Ulbrich still on the UCLA recruiting trail.
- Over at The Lady Sportswriter, Kimberley wonders if the Terry College of Business could swing Roquan Smith's decision in UGA's favor.
- Congrats to Marc Weiszer of the ABH on getting some recognition for his hard work. (h/t Emerson)
- At Dawn of the Dawg, Michael Collins asks a popular question - Is Georgia football underachieving or just unlucky?
- Assuming a competent SEC officiating crew (ahem!. Ok, I'll wait for the laughter to stop....)...Greg Poole sees where the new rule for linemen being downfield would've changed the outlook of the 2013 Auburn-Bama game.
- Lastly, stay cute Rutgers.

If you're a fellow Heathen heading to the Rock Show tonight at the 40 Watt, let me buy you a drink. Better yet, buy me one!

The reason I wanted you to meet Beecher today is wide and varied. Of the many characters I've created over the years, he's the most simple, honest, kind-hearted, complex, awkwardly amazing, and down to Earth. He's never been on a beer commercial, but I believe him to be the most interesting man in my favorite college town.

Ten or so years ago I had intended to get to know him better. I aimed to tell his stories to the world and let them chuckle heartily while being humbled. But I've neglected ol' Beecher. Partly due to time constraints, sure. It's a burden on your free time being a hotshot blogger with at least four and up to as many as twelve readers. But mostly I've neglected Beecher O'Callaghan because it was just too easy not to start something when I wasn't sure where it would lead.

Now, for better or worse, I'm gonna go see where that road leads.

No, I'm not leaving. Not in the least. Any morning I wake up and have a fresh thought to share or a rant to righteously impart, you'll find it here. Hell, maybe I'll even share another tall tale from the O'Callaghan memoirs here or there. But other than that, my pauses and stops along the way towards autumn may linger a little longer than usual.

To be honest, part of me says it's really none of your business and you probably don't care. Which means there's no real reason to post this diatribe at all. But I've grown fond of my readers here. Mom and Pops raised me to treat others as you'd have them treat you. So just don't be too alarmed if the posts gather some dust in between themselves. As Beecher'd say, "All we are is dust in a breeze." Guess he's not much of a fan for Kansas' music. Regardless, that breeze is aiming this writing vane towards that hole in the wall bar in downtown Athens. Rowena's handing us a mop and telling us to clean that shit up.

Stay upright and true amigos.

Bernie

Football. Groundhogs. And buttons.

So, on Sunday night football ended again. The next step in the cycle is something we refer to as the off season, which is of course sprinkled with football related news here and there. For instance, tomorrow future college players will dominate coverage, gymnasiums, and fans' attention. Later, we hope and pray that Ray Rice can avoid elevators this year. And if not, maybe Roger Goodell will pay better attention to his incoming mail.

I listened to RadioLab's most recent episode on "Football" this past weekend. It throws the sport up against the history of the nation and introduces listeners to the Carlisle Indians, arguably the most successful team in football's infancy. In fact, due to Pop Warner's, ahem, innovations as coach of the Indians, we now have many rules that have helped shape the game. Such as, you can't alter a player's jersey so as to be able to hide a football inside of it. Also, a receiver can't disguise himself as a benchwarmer only to re-enter the field of play forty yards downfield as an open target and easy touchdown.

But the episode also explores more recent issues that football is facing. Most notably it discusses the health implications current and former players face. They interview one mom whose son has the size, skill, and strength to play football, but lacks the interest. It puts her in an especially unique position as football is deeply embedded in her family's history. Her dad, uncles, and many other male relatives not only played football but made a career of it in the NFL. Now she's started to see signs of dementia, depression, and memory loss in her uncle and father. On one hand, she doesn't want to expose her own son to the risk factors. On the other, she's been raised to believe that football is a way of life.

And then there's the "reset button". Studies show that more and more kids are not participating in organized sports. It seems it is just easier to not have to be confronted with the idea of losing when they can just sit at home and play the sports on a game console. If they're not performing well enough with the joystick while sitting on the sofa, they simply hit the reset button and it's like that bad performance never happened.

Life's not like that. No wonder there's so many people that can't come to grips with reality when their team loses. We're fostering a society of near-sighted, un-athletic, impulsive youth with no clue as to the value of active participation much less the honor in giving one's best to a competition. Are there enough jobs out there that have built in buttons allowing them to start fresh when their first effort wasn't good enough? Are there enough mates out there to suffer through their delusions of perfection alongside them until death do them part? Most importantly, will their progeny break through these falsehoods to right society once again?

Then again, reset buttons can be healthy. They can be necessary even. For instance, as much as I hate to see football season end, the first few weeks of the year are a reset button of sorts; a chance to put the last few months in a mind's drawer somewhere for later reference and look forward to the next season in Sanford Stadium. And some other venues. Have you hit your reset button? Are you looking forward? Or backward?

Me, I'm looking forward now. I'm pretty sure.

Redefining "commitment"

Let's try a little exercise today, shall we?

When you settle in at home this evening, invite your wife or significant other over to sit with you on the sofa, look deeply into her eyes, and explain to her that you are around 70-80% committed to her. And that the only reason you're looking around is so that you can make sure you've made the right decision...for both of you.

Then let's all meet back here tomorrow (those of us still drawing breath) and see if we have a clearer idea of the full definition of the word commitment.

To those that get deep into this recruiting stuff, that's just picking nits. I know. Just hoping there are still people out there that see the absurdity of the "terminology" used. Then again, if the world were perfect, Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt...Lady Diana and Prince Charles...Bill and Monica...The Everly Brothers....Kiffin and Orgeron...they'd all still be together.

It's Friday!

Don't let the rain slow yo ass down Boss!

Merry Christmas y'all!

It was a hard couple of days. So look, we'll get to all of it. But not now. Tyler talked me off the ledge yesterday morning. Then I spent 10+ hours in a Tahoe loaded down with women and gifts and dirty laundry and the miracle of GPS. I got home, poured a drink and then Mac laid some truth on me.

I love you all. Truly. I really, really do. You'll never know how much.

So whatever you are into celebrating this time of year, please allow me to join you. Life is just too damn short! Let's take a couple days off and then get ready to go medieval on Grantham's worthless ass.

But back to the spirit of the season...Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Give your family a hug from Uncle Bernie!

h/t AthensHomerDawg

Who is more dangerous?

Fans that are never satisfied (the ones never heard from until after a loss when they poke their head out from whatever hole they've been in since November 1st), or the ones that blindly support one man over the program itself (the ones that revere the Man as if he is some idol to be worshipped and never, ever, ever criticized)?

And I don't ask that as a way of opening up the door to bash Mark Richt. I'm just amazed at some of the comments I see from these factions. My advice to both groups is Get over yourself!

The twenty-four hour jitters

As usual I'll give you my keys to victory tomorrow. But here just 24 hours until kickoff, I have one big worry.

Can the crowd stay in the game?

I can see this turning heavily in Georgia's favor somehow. Much more likely I think it will be a close affair with one team taking control in the final stanza.

What we can't afford is for the electricity to wane if Auburn takes control early. So many college football games have little to do with the crowd noise and participation. They just don't. The teams determine the score in a sterile environment.

Tomorrow ain't one of those games. The fans have to be in it to win it from fifteen minutes before kickoff until the end of the game.

In fact, you only have to look at how Auburn's last game ended to envision some communication problems and confidence breakdowns at key moments. In that regard, like I've been saying all week, get there early and get there with your loudest voice. And then get louder.

As I pack for the last road trip...

At least for the regular season, I find myself pondering a question.

I've told y'all before, I love road trips. It's one part seeing other destinations, tailgates, traditions. And it's another part hearing the Redcoats in another stadium while seeing the Dawgs in those beautiful road whites - the best uniform in football iyam.

Recently, I think it was after I returned from the ColaEast game, my kids asked me when they could attend their first road game. I had not thought of that yet, so my answer was somewhere north of a shoulder shrug. Mrs. Bernie and I have taken them to a bowl game before. Hell we may take them to one this year if Santa is good to us. But they've never been to a true, SEC, bonefide road game. 

And I'm not sure when that'll happen. But like I said, as I pack, I thought I'd asked my reader what he/she would suggest. I've been to both MS trips, either of which I'd take them to. We've also been to Tennessee. I'd take them there when they are older, but Mrs. Bernie has vowed ne're shall she return. I've been to USCjr, and it'll be a cold day in Hell before they get the displeasure of those fans' foul mouths. I've been to Auburn a couple times, and that might work as long as Nick Fairley isn't getting honored for his community service while matriculating in Opelika that particular evening. Missouri was a decent trip, though it was rather long. If I hit the lottery and could afford four plane tickets, maybe. And Vandy would be easy. Kinda like a home game across the border and over a ways. Know what I mean?

Those are the only ones I've been to, at least until this weekend. I would imagine Lexington might be a good first trip for a Junior Dawg too, especially if said junior is old enough to drive her daddy back along the Bourbon Trail!

Anyway, what say you reader? Where would you suggest a young Dawgette learn to bark in enemy territory? I don't mind exposing them to uncomfortable/hostile language in the stands. They've heard enough in their time in Sanford (and occasionally when Daddy watches a game on the tv). But ease of travel and fun venue get bonus points. Let me know your thoughts if you have one.

Go Dawgs!

Gurley: the rock, the hard place, and the victims

Unequivocally, I think it's downright shitty that every female in the state of Georgia can own a "I'm a Gurley Girl" t-shirt that someone not named Todd Gurley was paid handsomely for and yet the man whose talents begat the shirt's proclamation can't make a buck off his own damn name.

We know Manziel did it, and actually got caught. Everyone knows Cam did it, and got away with it. And we can all pretty much agree that one day (maybe soon), what Todd Gurley is alleged to have done will not be against the rules. Well, maybe. One day.

But, none of that excuses it. Not in the least. I have no doubt that Gurley knew the rules. And if he took some cash for signing memorabilia, he's in the wrong and needs to pay the price. One day, probably in just a few months, we'll talk about what this does for his Georgia legacy. However, today we're stuck with the fact that he's let thousands, perhaps even millions of people down.

And that list starts with his own teammates. This may tarnish Gurley's image, but in the long run it doesn't affect him much, if at all. I'm not saying he's not torn up about this blowing up and having to sit out. I don't know him personally, but from what I've observed, read, and seen I would expect he carries a lot of remorse for the position he's put his team in as they load up for a huge road game. Just think back to the post-game scene in South Carolina. The dude was choked up and pissed off and ready to do more on the field. And now he's not allowed near it.

Gurley's a great guy. He made a bad mistake. Stepping away from being a diehard Georgia fan, I'm sorry he's put himself in that position. I've made mistakes. You have too. They may not have made SportsCenter, but they probably affected people we know and love. And I suspect that is what is hurting Todd Gurley the most right now.

Stepping back into my diehard Bulldog shoes once again, I hurt most for guys like Hutson Mason, Chris Conley, Michael Bennett, and all those big ol' Dawgs up front that were prepared to block and fight and help Gurley get enough yards Saturday to beat Missouri. They're the real victims here. As bad as I feel about this, as embarrassed as I am to face these questions from those around me, as ashamed as I am that my alma mater is in the bad headline column once again, it's those guys that are on their way to suit up tomorrow that I feel the most for in the wake of this news. After all, they're the ones that have invested the most time, energy, sweat, blood, and pain into this season.

Not me. Not you. And definitely not the suits inside Butts-Mehre that don't have the balls to stand up to this nonsense. It's them, the guys that strap on the helmets in the name of Glory, Glory, that have the most to lose and the least amount of time to get over it.

So fans, alumni, Twitterers and BookFacers, gentlemen, and ladies too, let's take a breath. Set aside your shame and anger and frustration. We can't rewrite the headlines. But we can support our team. For its during the good times and the bad that we find out who is willing to stand beside them and yell those two simple words...

Go Dawgs!

That night in Athens when Rocky Top played all night long

Found myself feeling a bit overconfident last night. Watched some of this faded memory to get my mind right.

I don't give a shit if you wear red or black, and I damn sure don't want to talk about/coordinate before the game. It's a noon kick. Just have your ass in gear and your lungs full of air by 11:45.

We can't score touchdowns. We can't make blocks. We can't pick up the flags and shove them down Penn Wagers' little boy throat. But we can let those bUTtchuggers know DawgNation came ready to play if needed.

Go Dawgs!