Dawgs vs. Chippewas: The Weekend Travelogue and Gameday Experience, Vol. II

Welcome to another gameday weekend recap. Sadly, or perhaps fortunately, the weekend passed mostly without drama. The Dawgs took care of business, produced some highlights for the ages (except if you're ESPN*), escaped without major injuries and didn't drop in the polls. I didn't miss any flights, the planes didn't crash, I didn't have to sit by any smelly, chatty passengers on paid or public transportation, pass out in the 4th quarter or get lost in the foilage behind my former frat house. So we can call that a win-win, I guess.

Random musings and observations:

Yes, the Inexplicably Priced Tallboys (IPT) are still inexplicably priced. We all enjoyed our four "free" beers. (But the Freebird informed me that once again, I was geographically challenged. The home of the IPTs is in Dawsonville, not Dahlonega. Go figure. I only lived in the area for 20 years or so).

The Murph picked me up, and had a weekend pass to spend some time enjoying the tailgate. (I'm sad that I missed Miz Murph, but I'm glad that we ironed out in pre-weekend emails that she wasn't avoiding me because I've yet to start writing Buffy/Twilight fan fiction. The teen-vamp drama audiobook is in the queue, but yet to make it to my ears).

Thanks to staying with friends who have spawned, I was able to get all caught up on Calliou and Dora. I got ensnared in these intricate plot threads a couple of years ago during The Dark Time, and was able to ease back into the compelling drama over several IPTs.

The Freebird prepared some salmon in the Green Egg on Friday night, and once again, I ventured into the world of non-shellfish seafood. (I really like seafood, and even tuna, but generally eschew "fish" because, well, it tastes like fish). I tried my requisite accommodating guest single bite, and oddly, wound up eating a far more significant portion than I usually do. I still wouldn't pick salmon over virtually any other protein (give me the cow, the swine or the bird, y'all), but of all I've tried, that was definitely the best. I told the Freebird "I like your fish better than any other fish" and wondered if I'd ever uttered that phrase before.

Speaking of the Freebird, I learned that he can be a closet antiquer, but not on football Saturdays. Interesting. I occasionally punched the antiquing clock on occasion, but only to get laid.

Several of the usual suspects were missing from the tailgate this weekend due to prior commitments (is a kid's soccer game really any less manly than DragonCon? Just askin'), but we had a couple of guest stars. Of course, there was the Murph, who seamlessly blended back into the fold. And then there was Kevin, who pops in occasion. No one made a drunken ass of themselves, though Kevin, while presumably completely sober, did test the efficacy of a long grill lighter by sticking his hand over the (barely visible) flame. Yep, it worked. Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it doesn't burn. Good reflexes probably prevented an extra-cripsy tailgater.

I know we recognized this previously, but damn, was it hot. Like tailgating on the face of the sun hot. No shade to be found, which is not good for a late afternoon kickoff. We tossed around the price of an EZ Up tent and I even checked it out online (thanks, CrackBerry! -- $210) but just decided to melt and take occasional respites in the shade of the parking lot while the Freebird discussed real estate with nudists (over the phone -- it was a tailgate sans actual nakedness). But next time? I'm thinking there should be a tent in our future.

As I've mentioned before, Miz Freebird isn't a UGA grad. And not particularly a die-hard Dawgs fan. (Truth be told, she's a fan of the orange safety vest wearing inbreds from Knox-Vegas and the North Avenue Trade School). But in an adult, committed and reasonable show of affection and partnership, she goes to the games (or at least, all of the tailgates and most of the games) with us, but forgoes wearing red and black. The trick for her is to wear something that doesn't resemble a tacit endorsement of the Dawgs, yet doesn't appear as enemy colors. This weekend, we could feel reasonably safe that the Chippewas wouldn't storm the field at Sanford Stadium wearing blue and brown plaid. And if they did, I feel comfortable saying our margin of victory would have been more significant.

During the game, there weren't any meaningful interactions with our "neighbors." There was a guy with a tax deduction in front of us who couldn't control his fidgety one time sperm, but he didn't turn around when I burst out with the occasional "What The Fuck!" (Luckily, the game didn't require that many profane utterances. Not that I would care. Expanding your vocabulary is a crucial part of intellectual development in the young). And for a couple of quarters, I felt really, really old sitting next to a young Lindsay Lohan lookalike, complete with gravity defying frontage and a low cut top that made me wonder if it was really 95 degrees in the stadium.

By now, everyone knows what happened in the game. We kicked ass, and pretty much clicked on all cylinders. We shut down "Tebow-Lite," ran and passed at will, and won a game that we should have, convincingly. The only area of concern coming out of our epic clash against the Chippewas was our continuing problem with kickoffs. From a pure talent standpoint, The Blair Walsh Project obviously has the leg. But he put them high and short and out of bounds, and at this stage, it's difficult to tell if the problem is strategy/coaching or inexperience or coverage or perhaps a combination of all the above. This didn't kill us the first two games, but as we head into the meat of the schedule, it does loom as a troubling chink in the armor for facing teams with much better athletes returning kicks and more powerful offenses getting a short field. At least we acknowledge the issue, and may try something different.

As everyone has seen by now (unless you watch ESPN), the highlight of the game was Knowshon's superhuman hurdle over a hapless Chippewa.



No, it didn't go for a TD (and in reality, wasn't as impactful on the game as his 50+ yard scoring run) but HOLY SHIT was that awesome. We all said "that's a SportsCenter moment" in the stands, but damn, if ESPN didn't show it on ANY of their weekend SportsCenters, nor on that college recap show with Mr. Potatohead and Granny Clampett (and Rece Davis). Richt, in his aw-shucks way, took some umbrage. But I guess the powers that be at the WWL were too busy gargling with Tebow's man-juice and reporting on his flat-earth brainwashing and third-world cock-snipping to notice.

*However, it should be noted that my favorite WWL personality, the always awesome Scott Van Pelt, addressed the issue on a Dawgs message board. You rock, SVP.

All in all, it was a good game and a great weekend. Between a flask-emptying game (or really, 3 quarters -- welcome back, liver!) and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles colored margarita at the post game feedbag (what the hell was that, anyway?), a good time was had by all. This week is a road game, so I'll be enjoying the action here in the mid-Atlantic, listening to the mellifluous strains of Vern Lundquist, smoking when I damn well please, hoping for lots of visor-tossing and not peeing in the shrubs during the pregame. But the tailgate crew will be sorely missed.

Go Dawgs!