How college football and the Georgia Bulldogs became my emotional wrecking ball

The Georgia Bulldogs reached down into my chest and grabbed my heart, and for once, the result wasn’t catastrophic.

The archaic notion that “men don’t cry” has been slowly pushed into the recesses of American culture for decades. But even before it was cool to be sensitive, you could easily make a grown-ass man blubber if his emotions were tethered to sports and a significant event within them.

Perhaps no sport can demonstrate this effect better than college football.

Every virile, alpha-dog, preening male sports fan goes through at least a handful of events in his life that bring him to tears. Try to hide it as they may, the clear salty ocular discharge and cracking of his voice will always take front and center.

Mind you, not every sublime triumph or crushing loss will trigger these feelings. There’s a perfect storm that needs to occur to expose those raw emotions and draw out the inevitable flow of tears.

For me, there have been several moments when I was unable to curb a demonstrative display of tears.

• Wayne Gretzky’s retirement game, seeing the great one skate the rink one final time with the outpouring of love and support surrounding him.
• The final Braves game at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, watching my childhood heroes sink their cleats in the dirt and wave their caps to the fans one last time.
• Seeing the Black Knights win the 2016 Army-Navy game after 14 straight losses to the Midshipmen.
• The farewell tribute to legendary late Georgia radio announcer, Larry Munson.

And then there was Jan. 10, 2022.

Georgia 33 – Alabama 18

An exorcism of the Alabama demon, redemption for the season’s only loss, and – after 41 long, torturous years – a national championship for the University of Georgia.

And tears.

Lots of tears. Like, ugly crying tears. I’d wager there were thousands upon thousands of too-cool-to-cry men whose faces mirrored that of a weeping Stetson Bennett IV when the realization that Georgia was going to win the game and walk out of Lucas Oil Stadium as national champions sunk in.

Maybe there’s no crying in baseball, but when you’re a Georgia fan, crying is almost inevitable at some point.

So why did this game turn me into a hot mess of tears and not any other important game?

Being a Georgia Bulldogs fan isn’t always pretty, but it sure is a hell of a ride

As a Georgia fan who was alive to see Herschel Walker lead the 1980 Dawgs to a national title over Notre Dame, the moments — good and bad — over the last four decades have been abundant. Great teams. Triumphant seasons. Memorable players. Unbelievable heartbreak. Bad luck. The BCS (don’t get me started). Goff, Donnan, Richt.

Aged Georgia fans have seen it all.

So close, but thwarted by Todd Blackledge and the Penn State Nittany Lions in the 1983 Sugar Bowl for the national championship.

Losing an SEC Championship and a shot at a national championship in a six-point loss to Auburn in 1983.

Ray Goff almost finding the magic in 1992 but losing two incredibly close games to Tennessee and Florida.

Breaking the streak of nine straight losses to Tennessee in 2000.

Florida and the BCS dashing Georgia’s hopes in 2002.

A lopsided midseason loss to Tennessee spoiling the party in 2007.

Alabama ruining the blackout streak and Georgia’s hopes on national television in 2008.

The potential game-winning drive halted as time ran out against Alabama in the 2012 SEC Championship Game.

The monsoon game against Alabama that turned the Bulldogs’ season on its ear in 2015.

All games and seasons that took me on emotional rollercoasters over the years, but never brought me to tears. It wasn’t enough. I could still take a deep breath and play the part of cheering or cursing fan as the moment dictated.

But since Kirby Smart took over the program, there’s been an air of expectancy. When you fire a beloved coach like Mark Richt, a coach who won 75 percent of his games over 15 years and led the program to multiple SEC championships, you have to be expecting greatness out of his replacement.

Georgia fans such as myself watched and hoped. Hoped and watched. We waited, some more patiently than others, for justification of four decades worth of faith and hope.

For that patience, we were given;

The elation of the win over Oklahoma in the 2018 Rose Bowl in the Bulldogs’ first College Football Playoff appearance.

The excruciating overtime loss to Alabama in the 2018 National Championship Game.

Seeing another double-digit lead disappear against Alabama in the 2018 SEC Championship Game.

Alabama shredding Georgia’s “generational” defense in the 2021 SEC Championship Game

When a fan has seen that many ups and downs, that many heartbreaks, that much hope simply washed away, it takes its toll. Joy, anger, disbelief, pain…it all comes together like mystical witches brew in our hearts.

And it festers. It marinates. It becomes a living entity within our being. Our identities as fans become so connected to finally finishing the season on top that it borders obsessiveness.

And when it finally happens…

When the gun sounds and your team is left standing victorious…

When the confetti falls, the hugs are abundant, and the trophy is hoisted on high…

Grown men cry.

I cried. I openly wept. I boohooed and blubbered as if I’d just won the Powerball lottery.

From the moment Kelee Ringo crossed the goal line after intercepting a 4th quarter Bryce Young pass, I felt the lump in my throat begin and there was going to be no stopping the waterworks after that. What I was seeing was beyond comprehension.

Georgia 33 – Alabama 18

It was all washed away in one night. Four decades of futility. Seven straight losses to Alabama. Nick Saban seemingly. always knowing which levers to pull. The incessant needling of “1980” and “2nd and 26”

It was all gone. All vaporized by a team who refused to be the next chapter in the book of Georgia anguish.

And I cried. We cried. Women, children, and grown men all cried. It was cathartic, and it was beautiful. Go ahead and judge me.

Are we too attached to a sport and our team? You betcha. We wouldn’t have it any other way.

How ‘bout THEM Dawgs!

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