I gave up. You did too.

That, my friends, is the little known coda to the radio broadcast every Dawg knows by heart - Larry Munson's legendary call of the 1980 Georgia-Florida game. Belue to Scott. "I didn't mean to beg him to run, but I had to."

If you haven't used the phrase "man, is there gonna be some property destroyed tonight" I don't think you actually have a diploma issued in Athens.

Tomorrow's game in Tuscaloosa is significant for a variety of reasons. College Gameday is showing up to broadcast live. Two SEC powerhouses go toe to toe in a prime time ESPN clash. Nick "the great Satan" could get his first loss at Bear's school, or could feed his ravenous ego another week of press clippings. Mark Richt, Mike Bobo and Willie Martinez could send a message that the loss to the visor-coached poultry was an aberration, or let fans know that this is going to be a much longer season than even the most pessimistic of us anticipated.

But even more monumental? Tomorrow's UGA radio broadcast begins the passing of the torch from Munson to the "next generation" of the radio crew, Scott Howard and Eric Zeier. This will be the first game Larry has missed voluntarily in 42 years. Larry has been calling the Dawgs as long as there have been Super Bowls. As long as I've been alive.

ESPN's Mark Schlabach has a beautifully written and thorough piece on Munson here.

For the uninitiated, or just for old time's sake, you owe it to yourself to click on the audio links to some of Larry's classic calls about halfway down the page. I've heard them a million times myself, and still got chills listening to them even today. In fact, I'm having a whiskey and water in a Munson commemorative stadium cup as I type this. (#3: Herschel flattens UT All-American Bill Bates like a pancake. Check out the video, complete with Larry's call. It never gets old -- Herschel obviously had the speed to go left or right around Bates. But no. Chooses to go through and over him. Beautiful. "My God, a freshman!")

Many sports fans outside the south can't understand the passion that we pour into college football. Part of it is the prominence and success of the programs in the south. Part of it is the historical context -- many of the schools in the SEC didn't have a professional team in their state for fans to follow through season after heartbreaking season like the Red Sox or Cubbies, and threw all their sporting interest into one of the universities. (some states still don't have a pro team). In fact, one of my best friends and I were having a conversation the other day about the sporting "wish list." We're both die hard Georgia sports team fans who know names like Tim Mazetti, Biff Pocoraba and Scott Hastings. And the desire for a UGA national championship in football DWARFS the longing for a Falcons Super Bowl win, a Braves World Series victory or a Hawks NBA Finals title. College is also often the happiest times of our lives (I can vouch for that: 20+ years all downhill since) and the relationships made there last for a lifetime. My very best and most trusted friends now were all there Between the Hedges with me. So the school and the football program become part of the fabric of your life, part of your story. And that biography needs a narrator, and that narrator is Larry Munson.

Munson, and many others of his generation are called "homers." They don't hew to the journalistic guidelines (which yes, I learned at one of the nation's finest J-schools. In Athens) to avoid "we" and "us." And I wouldn't have it any other way. If I'm watching the NFL on any of the networks, yes, I want an unbiased and neutral crew calling the action. If I'm watching the Notre Dame - Michigan game on TV, I'll appreciate the fact the announcers are calling it right down the middle (shortly before gouging out my eyes at the football ineptitude). But if I'm watching my alma mater -- my extended family -- playing in a game I want that voice in my ear living and dying with every snap of the ball just like I am. I'm worrying about "old Lady Luck" and watching each tick of the clock take an eternity.

Scott Howard has done solid work for many years in the booth and deserves his shot. Zeier was, and remains, one of my favorite Dawgs ever. And in time, I may grow to accept them as the "new" voice of Georgia football. But this year, no matter the outcome on the scoreboard, each of the home games will be just an extra bit special. I'll be pulling for Larry, just as he's exhorted "his" Dawgs so many times, to "hunker down one more time."

So enjoy your night off, Larry. You've earned it.