Anyone who knows me knows that I am a huge high school and college football fan and, to be clearer on that, I don’t change mascots from Friday and Saturday – I am a Bulldog on both days. I have two grown sons; one who is an avid sports fan, and one who could care less about sports.
My youngest son was exposed to sports at an early age, as he began playing Peewee football at 5 years old. Much to his mother’s dismay, at an early age I started training both of them to be Georgia fans. I taught both of them the Bulldogs’ fight song, and they began attending UGA games when they were 6 years old.
The first game I took them to was Georgia’s spring game. At these games, many former Georgia players attend, and all the kids stand around the hedges and get autographs from these players.
Well, my wife, who knows nothing about football nor the players, took my youngest to get David Green’s autograph. She came back madder than a wet hen, saying very disparaging things about that player.
From interviews I had seen, I always had the impression that Green was a nice guy, so I inquired further about what had happened. She explained that she was there saying, “A.J., can I get your autograph?” and he just passed her up to the next person.
I had to explain to her that he was David Green – not A.J. Green, who was a Georgia wide receiver before moving on the pros.
When my son began playing Peewee football, it just so happened that his future kindergarten teacher’s son was on the team. She was a Tennessee fan, and she found out he was a Georgia fan.
I must premise this by explaining that from the time he was 4, I began taking him to Murphy football games. At the home games, where I would be announcing, he was grabbed up by a group of junior varsity football players. So, let’s just say his vocabulary was expanded – and not in a good way.
One day he wore a Georgia shirt to school, so his teacher thought it would be a good idea to give him a hard time. She started telling him she could use that Georgia shirt as a rag.
He looked up at her and said, “You can take that Tennessee shirt and shove it …” She explained to him that he could not use that type of language at school, then called me to tell me what happened. She even took responsibility for causing the incident.
My response: “That’s my boy.”
As he got older, he began going onto the field, as his main man was retired Murphy football coach David Gentry. When they would go up into the locker room, he would go with them. After a very close game, he got into the truck and said to me, “Dad, you can cuss pretty good, but I think coach Gentry has got you beat.”
When he reached middle school, a coach, who will remain unnamed, got together a group to go to a basketball camp at Clemson. My son got to go to this camp, and when he came back all that good Georgia upbringing I had done had been undone. He came back a die-hard Clemson fan.
Through his high school years, all I ever heard about was the undefeated seasons the Tigers had. I kept telling him the only reason Clemson was undefeated all those years was that they hadn’t played Georgia.
One day he came in all excited and say, “Hey dad, guess who Clemson opens with this year?” I knew it was Georgia in Atlanta.
We watched the game together and, when it became apparent that my Dawgs were going to win, he wanted to get up and leave to go hang out with his buddies. I made him sit down and watch the whole game. So, I finally got some satisfaction for all the stuff I had to listen to for three years.
They say if you raise ’em up right, they will come back to their roots. He has since finished up a bachelor’s degree, is working on an internship with the Federal Emergency Management Agency and, over the past two years, has come back to the fold of Bulldog Nation.
I write this for every other parent who has a rebellious teenager, letting you know there is hope.
J.R. Carroll is a staff correspondent for the Cherokee Scout. Email him at jcarroll8760@gmail.com.