Team: Now that College Football Season is really here (last week was a bit of a yawner), I have to bring attention to one of my favorite commentary: the Poor Man’s Game Notes. It’s Georgia Bulldog focused, very astute, and hilarious. The author is a good buddy of mine, but I’d recommend it even if I didn’t like him. It’s very well done. Here’s an excerpt from this week’s notes:
It can’t be said enough: it’s the heat that makes this “rivalry”. (We are batting over .800 against them – but whatever.)
In a vacuum, Georgia vs. South Carolina should never really be a noteworthy matchup. On Georgia’s spectrum of noteworthy opponents, I would put SC just below Ole Miss and just above Kentucky.
But the mid-state heat kicks things up a notch. In even numbered years, that wet, soggy heat brings an oppressive burden to this game.
It starts the second you step out of your car at the tailgate. Imagine walking out of a refrigerator and straight inside Satan’s mouth. That is the sensation of being physically present in Columbia before October.
It continues throughout the day. Heat from the sun above. Heat from the parking lot gravel that stretches out for miles in all directions below. Heat from your own clothes begins to consume you as you wonder if you dressed yourself in a patchwork of microwaved baby wipes this morning.
For the players it is understandably worse. Our boys feel that heat in the cinder block visitor’s locker room, and then out into the stadium corridor where they walk on damp concrete to their portal to the field. Said portal is a metal carport awning that would barely cover the hood of an old Trans Am. It’s hot in there, too.
On the field there is no breeze. There is only electronic music and some random dude’s chicken tethered to a PVC-pipe goal post on a homemade remote control car filling the otherwise dead air that is as still and stagnant as the state’s public education system that brought all of us to this hellhole in the first place.