Balm for the Bulldog Wounded

Gather round Bulldog faithful. I need to tell you a story. It started a long time ago around 1971. My husband was born in Florida. Raised in a God fearin' but Gator lovin family. Y'all there is even photographic evidence of him wearing a Gator sweatshirt as a young teenager. I tell you this because I want you to know through prayer and careful consideration, this burden was lifted from him. I reckon that's how it happened. All I know is if he hadn't made this conversion, my daddy would've straight written me out of the will when I brought him home. Georgia will do that to you. Makes you forget what you used to know. Makes you new and full of eager ambition. I can testify. But, there's a down side to such fervor. When your Dawgs lose a heartbreaker, it hurts like whacking your shin on a reese hitch. Like shaving over a mosquito bite, like when your horse steps on your toes and you were stupid enough to wear flip flops. Worse. Although my husband shares my deep abiding love of Athens and the University, he only gets into football because there's nothing else allowed on any TV in my house on Saturdays in the fall. He watches and cheers but mostly laughs at me writhing on the floor begging Jesus for a 4th down stop.  Last night he went sound asleep during the last half. The girls hung in there with me but he was slap out. I don't say that proudly. It's one of those things I will never understand about him. But nevertheless, when I'd eaten a rice krispy treat, a leftover chicken wing, a handful of stale popcorn, and a biscuit I think Murphy bit into first, I realized I had to go to bed and get some sleep.  As I turned on the lamp so I could crawl into bed, I see my 130 pound Great Dane in MY spot in the bed. He is out. I mean snoring like a grown man. OUT. Like a Carolina fan on a 3 day drunk. OUT. Now, I have no upper body strength, but I can pull an entire Bama bandwagon with my legs. So I crawled into bed and pushed him as hard as I could with my legs. He's barely moving at all so I push with hands AND feet. Right as I get him close to the edge, he wakes, startles, and flips over on top of me and goes immediately back to sleep. Here I am- legs hanging off the bed, Great Dane laid out completely across my shoulders. I managed to push him off my chest and throw my legs into the bed. He's literally got his big race horse sized head over my shoulder but I'm so exhausted I don't care. I closed my eyes and began my normal routine of praying for soldiers, for old people, for dogs on the street, for children with no parents, and for Tech fans clearly eaten up with envy.  I prayed for friends struggling at work, and mamas barely making ends meet, for dairy farmers, for coaches' wives and that my girls will one day find worthy spouses who hunt and fish and  love Jesus and the Dawgs. I prayed for Sony and Nick and Hot Rod and Kirby. For Jake, Roquan and for Bama's #48, through gritted teeth. I prayed for the freshmen with so much to look forward to and the seniors with so much to remember.  I thanked the Lord for Munson, for Herschel and for my Grandmother who loved football almost as much as she loved cigarettes and a deck of cards. No doubt my prayer life is rife with Attention Deficit Disorder. As I was wrapping up I asked the Lord to soothe the souls of the Bulldog faithful and instantly let me tell y'all what happened. Y'all it was a sign. You know how some claim to have felt the brush of angel's wings when they talked to God? Well I felt hot, Great Dane breath.  Sweet dog breath. I about cried. Thank you Lord for that Dawg breath. I know that was you, God. Thank you. Thank you for every Dawg out on that field last night. Thank you for all the Bulldog faithful. It will be a long stretch of winter and disappointing Braves baseball waiting for fall, but with You, we will get through it.  Stop wasting a single second of this blessed Bulldog life complaining about horrid officiating or big mouth Bama fans. Stop. Just start counting down the days. Because, it is GREAT to be a Georgia Bulldog. I know so because the Lord told me through Dawg breath and a little slobber on my LL Bean pajamas. Good night y'all. Sleep tight. Smile. Say your prayers.  Get some rest. G Day will be here before you know it.  Go Dawgs.

To all the Dawgs in my life..on the night before "The Game".

I haven't written Game Day Commentary in awhile. Mostly because the Dawgs have kept me speechless most the season. But I got a text from a good friend that said just this "you owe it to the Dawgs, Carmen Bennett. You have until tonight at midnight." Okay well if you put it that way... Here goes. For you, the Georgia Mafia. :)

It's not just a game.

If you think it is- you can stop here. I'll save you the time.  But if you know it's more than a game, keep reading. If you've loved the Dawgs the whole of your life, you can keep reading too. If you spent 4 amazing years at the University of Georgia, keep reading. If you can remember your parents cheering on the Dawgs while listening to the game on the radio, you should keep reading. If you can recite Buck Belue to Lindsay Scott without missing a single word, keep reading.  If you've ever named the family dog Munson or Dooley, keep reading. Because, if any or all of the previous describe you, you my friends, are Damn Good Dawgs.  Ain't a one of y'all just woke up one day and decided you thought it'd be cool to be a fan, bought you a sweatshirt and then became a loudmouth.  Not that there's a thing wrong with the Bama fans that do that kinda thing. Bless ya heart y'all are still good Christians. But I don't trust y'all. Y'all are like those folks that make pimento cheese with pre-grated cheddar. It's perfectly legal but that don't make it right. I love you, but I'm still givin' you the side eye and I ain't turnin' my back to you.

There are many ways red and black gets in your blood. I was only five when the Dawgs won their last national championship. I've been told tales about it but I cannot remember it. I do remember losing to Penn State in 1982. I was 7 then and my Daddy won't even say the words "Penn State" even today. My daddy graduated from Georgia. My mama has two degrees from Georgia, as do I. My husband has 2 Georgia degrees. My brother has one. My aunts have several. My daddy's cousins have a few too. So even if I hadn't gone to Georgia, there's still no way I could be anything but a Dawg, just from good righteous raising. The good book says train up a child in the way he should go. Mine did. So many good rabid Dawgs were made this way. If you have righteous raising and you've strayed, come on home, sugar. Take that Bama sweatshirt to the Goodwill and come on home. We'll be happy and your mama will be proud.

There were some lean years in Athens when I was a teenager. Growing up in northeast Georgia, I wasn't a rebellious kid but I'd sometimes mention going to Georgia Tech or Clemson just to get a rise out of my parents. Some teenagers drink too much and some drive too fast. I just threatened to go to college in Atlanta. I was a student at Georgia from 1993-1997. There wasn't much to cheer about through Goff and Donnan and although it dampened our spirits,  it never dampened the loyalty of the faithful. In 1995, when Kirby Smart was a Dawg himself, who'd have thought he'd be the one to lead us to the gates of the promised land a little over 20 years later? Throughout those 4 years, it wasn't the football team that made me fall hopelessly in love with Georgia. It was meeting my future husband in Aderhold Hall. It was a thoroughbred named Cashew that threw me off his back more than once but taught me a lot about getting up, dusting off, and getting back on. It was the way downtown glistened on cold nights. It was Milledge Avenue in the spring. It was Guthrie's chicken tenders, the chapel bell, Hodgson's ice cream, and Cooper's fishbowls (don't worry Daddy I only HEARD about those. I never ever witnessed it personally).  It was professors I still stay in touch with today, and friends I now count as family. It was North Campus grass and a blanket in the fall (even to an Ag girl from South Campus). It was a crappy Russell Hall dorm room with my elementary school best friend counting change to see if we could order the "good" pizza.  It was that same friend flinging open the door to our dorm room and yelling "there's a nutjob preacher at Tate! Let's go watch!" It was Arooj from Pakistan who loved JFK, Jr., Rebecca who prayed all the time (probably for the rest of us)   and Rhonda, the yankee softball pitcher from New Jersey. We were quite an interesting mix of Soule Hall sisters back then.   Blessed just seems too simple a word.

So when the Dawgs take the field tomorrow, there's a lot more than a football team tied up in that G on the helmet. Whether you went to school there, it was bred into you, or a wicked combination of both, you know it's not just a game. Athens is not just a town. Georgia is NOT just a University and whether we win or lose, I love the Dawgs. I do. I love them. I love the University of Georgia and ain't no "Roll Tide" from any big mouthed bandwagon Bama fan ever gonna change that.

Y'all pray for my mama. She's in the hospital recovering from a terrible stomach virus. She asked the doctor this morning if he could have her home by kickoff tomorrow. Clearly, a Damn Good Dawg. Clearly NOT just a game. Glory, GLORY, to Ol' Georgia.

The Way I Remember It...

Every Christmas night since forever, I’ve always been blessed enough to sit around somebody’s fireplace. After the whirlwind of gifts are opened and I’ve almost caught the house afire burning amazon boxes and wrapping paper in the fireplace. After the kids have retreated to their rooms to tinker with their Santa loot. I always find something good to drink. What I drink depends on how many folks I’ve had go in and out of my house during the holidays, how many political conversations I’ve endured and how many times I’ve had to get out the mop bucket. A few years ago we had about fifty eleven people here for Christmas. Our housekeeper who was far more than a housekeeper to us had fallen on difficult times and she was living with us along with her two small children. We had in total about 12 people sleeping here that Christmas Eve. As many as 18 the days before. That year- Russian tea didn’t cover it. Needed a nip of peppermint schnapps in my wassail and some Bailey’s in the egg nog! It was a wonderful Christmas though. It’s funny how hard we try to create Christmas memories for kids, when the things kids remember are very seldom things at all. My most vivid Christmas memories are these:
*When I was a little girl my daddy owned a lumber yard. He also sold Christmas trees, or I guess he did. Anyhow, when my teacher asked if anyone could donate a Christmas tree to the classroom I shot out of my chair at the blue square table so fast I’m sure it scared the chalk off the blackboard. Several kids volunteered and the teacher said whoever brought one first. I don’t even know what my daddy had to do to get that tree to my elementary classroom early the next morning but he did and I have never forgotten it. I thought I was something else and I ranked my Daddy right up under the sweet baby Jesus. I’m 42 years old and I still do.
*I think I was in 2nd grade when our house burned on Christmas Eve. I don’t remember being sad about presents at all. What I do remember is that Ms Gay Martorell, my 2nd grade teacher brought me a blue sweater vest and a plaid shirt. I can tell you exactly what that sweater looked like. If I was any kind of artist I could draw you the exact stitching. That’s how vividly I remember it.
*Daddy used to load up our whole family, extended family too, in his big blue delivery truck. He covered the floor with hay and we all caroled around Hartwell. I could barely see over the side rails but I can remember being so cold in the north Georgia night, I’d burrow myself in the hay and fall asleep with visions of Santa, reindeer, and Hershey kisses in my head.
*I remember Gail Brown singing Watchman Tell Us of the Night at The First Presbyterian Church on Christmas Eve so beautifully that it captivated the attention of a kid who was delirious with Santa excitement.
*I remember Ms Beverly Dove and Ms Hope Williams teaching our 4th grade class to sing What Child is This for our Christmas program at school. I still have the mimeographed copy in Ms Dove’s handwriting.
*I don’t know how far back in my daddy’s Family the tradition goes but when he was a kid he got stockings from Santa in REAL nylons. Like real panty hose weighted down to the floor with oranges and cracker jacks. My brother and I used to drag those things around clear through January. We always got them growing up and now my kids get them even though they’re weighted down with Reese’s cups and snickers bars now.

Mama says some Christmases were plentiful and some were tight. So funny how as a child I couldn’t tell the difference. I’m more thankful tonight for good Christmas memories than I am for any material thing I had then or have now.

5am

Last night I fell into bed exhausted. The kind of exhausted only family christmases can bring. But no matter how tired I am the night before, I am always awake by 5am. The house is so quiet and within an hour or two the mayhem will return. That’s why I love 5am. I can hear the 120 pound dog snoring on the floor next to my bed. And even though he gets excited and gallops through the house like a dang racehorse, even though he chewed up Christmas gifts, air hockey pucks, Christmas lights, and half of an Italian Creme cake, I am so thankful that big lug found his way into our lives. Right now he’s dreaming as he does almost every night. His legs are moving like he’s running and he barks in this low muffled tone. I always wonder what he’s chasing in his dreams.  I think it’s probably Ali. There’s a light coming underneath my bedroom door which tells me the 3 amigos left the kitchen lights on last night. I can’t be upset because I’m just thankful cousins have this time together even if it means screaming squealing and running in the house, frosting on cabinet doors and a dishwasher running nonstop.  Pete’s sound asleep next to me and in a few minutes he’ll roll over and say honey put that damn phone away and go back to sleep even though in the previous 20 years together I’ve never gone back to sleep. Today I’ll let him sleep a little later. I can hear the hardwood floors creak upstairs. My inlaws are here for the holidays. They will soon be here permanently. I couldn’t be more thrilled. Don’t get me wrong. They are crazy, REALLY Baptist, old fashioned, stubborn, hard headed and sometimes fussy in a way that only those around 70 years old can be.  But I’ve come to realize that I’m crazy, Episcopalian, old fashioned, stubborn and fussy in a way that only mothers around 40 can be. So we have a lot in common. They love my children and I know there’s nothing short of their last breath they’d give us if we needed it.  Most all the adults worked most of the day clearing the little patch of woods next to our house where they’ll build their house soon. My mama helped clear brush, set herself on fire twice and still managed to feed us all not just supper but supper with broccoli casserole, mashed potatoes that didn’t come from a box, and a beef roast that she fretted over being over cooked all during dinner. That’s about as southern grandma as it gets and they live 513 steps from our front door. You really don’t get any luckier than us. 

Merry Christmas everyone! From our house of 4 chihuahuas, 1 Great Dane, one elusive big gray cat, 8 People, and a missing air hockey puck. From our house to yours..May you find happiness and see all the blessings in the midst of the mayhem of the next few days. If you can’t, try it at 5am, while still lying in bed. You’ll be surprised what you hear in silence. 

What I Loved and Learned in Louisville

What I Loved and Learned in Louisville

I thought leaving Effingham County almost 10 years ago would surely break my heart. When we crossed the county line with our last load of furniture headed to Burke County I couldn’t help but bawl like a baby. Leaving friends behind then was seriously one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I was so happy to be moving out of a subdivision and into “the wild” as the kids called it but dang it was hard to leave. Over time it got easier and I got used to a new normal. But this move might hurt worse. Even though I’m not moving my RESIDENCE this time, I am moving to a new school system and leaving some of the dearest people in the world behind in Louisville. Teaching in Louisville was more challenging than anywhere I've been before. Teaching in a poor rural district is hard. If the teachers in districts like these don’t stick together and lean on each other- if they don’t bond, if they aren’t good friends it just doesn’t work. It’s too hard a job to do on your own. You need your friends or you’re as good as sunk. Let me give you a few examples.

1.If you catch the science lab on fire, you need a friend to scream hysterically to get the fire extinguisher!

2. If you catch the science lab on fire, you also need a friend to tell you after you’ve stumbled out of a smoke filled room, that you’re missing the Italian leather sandal that was previously on your right foot.

3. If a rabbit gets loose in your classroom, you need a friend who can help you catch it. It also helps if this friend still agrees to chase the rabbit even though she is wearing a super cute lily pulitzer skirt.

4.You need a friend who will immediately send you the phone number of another friend so that they can efficiently coordinate the release of 500 crickets into the 8th grade hall.

5.You need a friend who will, in an effort to salvage all our jobs, willingly smooth things over with the principal after 500 crickets are released into the 8th grade hall.

6.You need a friend who will tell you if you are saran wrapping the wrong teacher’s car on their birthday. (you hear me Greg Burns? You need a FRIEND!)

7.If you lock yourself out of the dressing room at Maxway during school hours, you need a good friend on speed dial.

8. If you get your hand caught in the ipad cart because you are wearing some hippie style hemp bracelets, you need a friend who will get you out after rolling on the floor laughing hysterically.

9.You need a friend who realizes how ADD you are and will always do testing labels and other tedious teacher bullcrappery for you because they understand you are honestly completely incapable of completing such tasks without cursing enough to send the whole district to hell.

10. You need a friend who will tell you your lipstick looks like a damn vampire so get a new shade.

11.It’s always good to have friends who boost your self esteem by assuming you know the scientific name of every snake, lizard, chameleon, gecko, spider, and jackelope known to man and sends you the pictures of the aforementioned critters for identification confirmation!

12. You know you’ve found a great group of friends when they know your keys, your phone, your purse, your tervis tumbler, and even the book you’re reading by heart so that they can return these items to you after you’ve left them in various places all over the school.

13.After sending a text saying what a crappy day you had, you need a friend who will simply text a picture of a margarita back to you. It’s teacher code language for go sit on the porch, let it go and live to fight another day.

14. You need friends who know your shortcomings, do their best to make up for what you lack, tolerate your weird quirks and love you anyway even during those times when you're just not easy to love.

As I toted my first box out of my office yesterday I had to think back to when I was toting my first box INTO Louisville Middle School 9 years ago. I hardly knew anyone. I was still missing Effingham County and all my friends there. We were living with my parents while building a house. It was probably the most stressful year of my life. It got even worse when I lost a baby the following spring. I felt so far away from anyone who really knew me or cared about me. But it was also during this time that LMS became my new family. They rallied around me and kept me going through those following weeks even though they hardly knew me and I have never forgotten that.

So as I get ready to move all my “teacher junk” to Jenkins County Middle/High in the next few weeks, it’s so bittersweet. I cannot talk much about it without becoming a weepy mascara streaked mess but I know it’ll get easier as the weeks pass. I am so excited to get my hands back into potting soil again. I want to leave school every day smelling of sawdust and varnish and maybe with a little dirt under my nails. I’m thrilled to be teaching Addie next year. My heart is overcome with joy when thinking about being at the same school as Pete and the girls. I’m totally reinvigorated at the thought of teaching Agriculture again. It seems so surreal how things have come full circle. Now I hope to end my career in a few years the same way it began- in a greenhouse, in a woodshop, at hog shows, or maybe even in a welding booth. I am pretty sure it’s a situation that God has set up just for me and my family and I look forward to our new adventures together. I want to feel about teaching the way I felt back then. Positive that I am making a difference in the lives of kids. Not just test scores. Not just numbers.. but lives. That doesn’t make my heartache any easier right now, but it will in time. Thanks for the memories, Louisville. A piece of my heart will always be there.

To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

Holy Jesup, Georgia!

1. What had happened was I think Greyson Lambert or his mama read my blog last week. He got his hair cut. He got a good beard trim. And that young man became a DAWG! He’s no longer Greyson Lambert from UVA! Champagne and Charlottesville are a distant memory! Who would have thought that boy from the Vandy game would break records tonight. He was almost flawless. Holy Jesup, Georgia. What a night he had! Y'all can thank me later.
2. Game ball to Sony Michel. I love to watch him play. Chubb runs over folks and that is cool but I’m a sucker for a kid who can juke. He’s got that down to an art!
3. Overall awesome game. Hubs put ribs in the smoker and they were unbelievably good. Now I had the normal crowd around here.. you know my Daddy talking about how the Mormons always keep enough grain for a year’s supply and my sister in law texting me about her rooster attacking her in the backyard.. but overall it was a great tailgate at home!
4. There are obviously different levels of Dawg Devotion. It ranges from the low level  “What are you doing Saturday?” to mid level “what time does the game come on?” -who by the way doesn’t know what time the game comes on!.. All the way to “I want my ashes scattered over the Hedges. Now somewhere right up near scattering your ashes over Sanford is where my friend Tim stands. He’s a full grown man and sent me the funniest picture today. He was grinning from ear to ear and just giddy over a Georgia outfit he’d found for a 6 month old cousin. Yep. No doubt Tim bleeds red and black.
5. I don’t care for 6pm kickoffs. You’re down right exhausted after watching a bunch of mediocre games all day like Notre Dame and Georgia Tech. It’s like rooting for the devil or well… the devil. I couldn’t decide. When Notre Dame scored I cussed under my breath. When Georgia Tech scored I didn’t feel one bit different. Equal hate. But all that hate wears you out and by the time the Dawgs came on I’d eaten enough to feed our O Line for 3 days and I’d exhausted myself hoping ND and GT would just knock the crap out of each other equally.
6. I don’t think they ought to review movies during a football game. I don’t care if the movie is about football. Shut up lady. Nobody cares. You’ve got the best running back in the country running wild behind you and you’re interviewing somebody in a movie. I.Do.Not.Care! I don’t care if a former camera man is in the movie. This ain’t the Roger Ebert show. It’s a football game!! I’d rather talk about the Mormons and their grain stockpile than a movie. The film may be great. But I repeat… this is a football game! Ridiculous! Course that wasn’t as bad as changing over coverage to the Ole Miss/Alabama game. I missed the last minute of the Dawg victory to listen to Kirk Herbstriet babble on about nonsense.
7. I know Spurrier says he’s good for another 3-5 years but I’m tellin ya he may be done this season. I love to hate Spurrier and I will miss him. But this may be our last chance to have hung 60 on the ol’ Ball Coach and we missed it. Oh well. It’s still GREAT to be a Georgia Bulldog! I will be in Athens next week! My sister in law (of rooster attack fame) will be with me and it will be her first game in Athens. We have been to several Georgia Florida games together and even though she's an Armstrong Atlantic grad, she's a DGD! I'm still working on the "game focus" but we are making great progress! One thing is for sure, there's always a lot of laughter when the two of us go off to a football game together and I can't wait! I've missed Athens and I need to check out Mark's hair up close! Go Dawgs!

Went to a Football Game and A Goat Show Broke Out

10.  Sweet holy Mary where to begin.. First, Look- Lorenzo Carter I know your ejection was bull. Crazy call that really diminishes the game. But all of that aside, when you get ejected you don’t smile. I wish Coach Richt would hire me just to yell at players who do stupid things like smile after an ejection. I think my 5’4” self jumping up and clanging them upside their heads with their own helmet might help.  Think about it Mark, ok? I have to give 2 weeks notice at work.

9.  Leonard Floyd, Jordan Jenkins and the rest of the defense saved this game. They all deserve the game ball. In fact they ought to make the offense pay for dinner all week. Ridiculous.

8. Now I know I’m going to get flamed for this, but I don’t care. I think, and I have always felt that given the right opportunities, Sony Michel is a better all around athlete than Nick Chubb. I think he’s just now coming into his own. I’m glad both of them are Dawgs and Nick Chubb is still a freak.  It’s my commentary. Make up your own if you don’t like it.

7. If you have not seen the video replay of  Dominic Sanders’ touchdown run, you should. The run is awesome but that’s not why you need to see the replay. My sister in law pointed out the guy on the sideline near the end of the run doing a toe touch. Like her,  I’m not certain he was aware he could do a toe touch until that touchdown run! It’s worth your time to watch it. Whoever you are young man, Go Dawgs! That toe touch earned you a DGD designation!

6. I hate when they show too much cheerleader footage on a football broadcast. I don’t have anything against cheerleaders.. there’s only so much of the valley girl “GeorGIA” and “Dogs” with a short O sound I can stand.

5. I have a confession. Last week Matt Hodges suggested I get a shirt that says “Hush Y’all The Dawgs Are On!” since I end up watching the game with people who tend to talk about random foolishness during the game rather than pay attention. I bought it and it arrived Thursday! I love it! BUT… during today’s game I had to leave the room. Our cleaning lady hasn’t been here in two weeks and I got so frustrated watching this RIDICULOUS display of offense that I furiously cleaned two toilets during the first half. THAT’S how bad it was. The toilet/Our offense… same general idea today.

4.  Now I know y’all are gonna want to give Lambert a hard time. I’m not. This fella came from the ACC. This time last year he was playing in Charlottesville. At Georgia, we say “it’s north of the stadium or it’s south of the stadium”.  At UVA they say it’s north of the “lawn”..  My brother in law is a UVA grad and he verified this for me. Folks I’m tryin’ to say it like this… Give the boy a break. He’s going to need to get the rust out. You can have rust in the ACC and get by. That’s not going to cut it here, but he needs a chance to shake it off.

5. Now look here Greyson Lambert- you see me taking up for you? Don’t do me wrong next week against the chickens you hear me?  Hell hath no fury like a Georgia girl proven wrong. Oh and for goodness sakes get a hair cut and a shave. Ya look like tweety bird with an 8 o’clock shadow. It’s not a good look for you. Sheesh. Once I get Mark Richt straight on his foolish hair mess, you start looking like you’ve come off a three day drunk.

4. Overall the best part of this game was my Mississippi Sin Dip. Even though I couldn’t find chives in the entire town of Waynesboro, it was still pretty dog gone good. It sustained me while the Dawgs were busy being inconsistent and flat.

3.  Mark Richt still lacks fire in his belly. I’m beginning to think he doesn’t really have it in him. This is yet another position for which I am highly qualified. Mark, if you can’t bring yourself to grab a kid by his facemask, or rip your headset off and stomp it, I could do that for you. I mean I single handedly cursed the refs while waving  a toilet wand today. I can do it. Let me know.

2. This game was “oogly” as my daddy would say. Wasn’t a thing pretty about it. Felt off balance and totally out of rhythm. I know a win is a win but this one was like three fourths of a win. You can’t have a full win when Vandy makes you nervous up until the end.

1. There were some stupid calls. The phantom hand to the facemask call was ridiculous but ya know what? This was Vandy. Even though Georgia was the visiting team, it was clear that the Dawg fans vastly outnumbered Vanderbilt’s.. That oughta tell you something, but somehow Vandy hung around like hair in a biscuit as Matt Hodges would say and that was nothing short of ridamndiculous.  It’s great to be a Georgia Bulldog. Greyson Lambert, Virginia transfer, I’m a need you to amp up ya greatness ya hear?