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November 2008
Beating Georgia better than trip to Tampa
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Athens — The team that was No. 1 in the USA as the football season began is no longer No. 1 even in the state of Georgia. The classic old series between Georgia Tech and Georgia that was writhing on its deathbed is alive and kicking again. This is all further proof that when playing a Paul Johnson team, it’s never over till it’s over, for the second half is his.
What should amaze you even more is this: One of the teams passed for 407 yards, the other passed for 19. The team that passed for 407 yards lost.
One team’s defensive coordinator’s game plan allowed the other team to score 42 points. He’ll be hailed for his genius. The other team’s defensive coordinator exercised a plan that allowed 45 points. His feet were already to the fire, and now the heat will be turned up. That’s the difference three points can make.
All of this is based on the fact that Georgia Tech came to Athens a seven-point underdog and turned a somber, drizzly afternoon into another star in Paul Johnson’s crown. He came here with another team eight years ago and took a whacking, but working out of Georgia Southern, he was only an appetizer on mighty Georgia’s menu. This time he came with the same old offense but another level of troops, and Athens went to bed Saturday night wondering what had struck town.
It ranks as the most unusual Georgia-Georgia Tech game I have watched, and this was my 58th. That 19-yard pass that Josh Nesbitt completed to Demaryius Thomas never figured in the scoring, even more believe-it-or-not, it was Georgia Tech’s first play of the game. Georgia had whisked down the field from the kickoff, into the Tech end zone on the ninth play, Matthew Stafford’s pass to Tripp Chandler, for a 7-0 lead. It should be pointed out that Tech did score on a pass, but it was one of Stafford’s. From his own 12-yard line, the Georgia quarterback aimed a pass at a receiver who wasn’t there, but Morgan Burnett was, and the Tech defensive back raced 35 yards for a touchdown with the stolen ball. Tech attempted only five more passes, only one of those completed — to a Bulldog.
Even favored as the Bulldogs were, it was generally assumed that the dismal weather had played into their hands as well. Johnson’s triple offense — or wishbone, or whatever you choose to call it — involves much ball juggling. Handing off, pitching out, fakes and such, all of which would appear to endanger Tech’s offensive style. Strangely, Tech never lost the ball by a fumble. Only Georgia did.
A fumble did figure into Tech’s pursuits early in the game, a fumbled snap on the extra point following its first touchdown. That created a hitch in its offensive pursuit, trying to make up for the deficit. But in the long run, after the half, Tech made up for it and more, and thus the score, 45-42.
The Jackets won’t be playing for a the championship in the ACC, however. News drifted in from Blacksburg that Virginia Tech had beaten Virginia, and thus no playoff for Tech. But, if you had to choose, would you take an ACC championship playoff or victory over Georgia? As an unauthorized spokesman for the denizens of The Flats, I’d say the majority would vote for victory over Georgia — especially after seven losses in a row.
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Tech-Georgia rivalry steeped in history
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
For one thing, you never saw the coach wearing a headset, looking like some kind of astronaut. Bobby Dodd and Wally Butts both walked the sideline wearing snap-brim felt hats.
The Georgia Tech team reached Athens by train, boarded at Terminal Station. The rest of the entourage loaded on at the Emory University station. Later, passenger trains were sent into retirement, and getting to Athens was an ordeal by steering wheel, and so was the return trip. Was, still is.
If you lived in Waycross or Whigham, you thanked your good fortune for such a kickoff hour as this. High noon in Sanford Stadium. All of us are at the mercy of some television lord who pulls the strings, and tells them when to kick off from Boston to Corvallis. Ah, those days on the train, though, they were grand, whisking through the countryside. But then, if you were in the writing business, you had to be quick in the press box, or you might miss the choo-choo back home.
That brings up the memory of the “trestle gang.” The east end of Sanford Stadium was open until, I’d guess, about 1991 — I don’t remember the year, but years aren’t important — and with the closure went the “peep seats” on the railroad trestle. A boisterous gang had turned the trestle into their permanent viewing establishment, occasionally interrupted by a freight yard engine, cheerfully tooting its whistle. When the east end of Sanford was enclosed, the gang had one rootin’-tootin’ farewell celebration. Those guys have been replaced in Bulldog lore by the crowd that gathers behind the rightfield fence at Foley Field.
My first season of Georgia-Georgia Tech was 1950, and I won’t swear by this story, but what I’d heard was that Bobby Dodd was in serious trouble. His team went into the Georgia game in Athens with a record of 4-and-6, and there was much unhappiness among alumni powers with the Tech coaching staff. Expecting defeat, these alums had purchased a new car to present to Dodd as they showed him the exit.
It was a mean, tough game with serious penalties on both sides. Tech ran through a string of quarterbacks until Joe Salome, later an Atlanta attorney, had his turn. Then Darrell Crawford , just a rookie, came in and scored on a sneak. Tech held on and won 7-0, against overwhelming odds, and back in Atlanta, instead of a farewell Buick, Dodd was presented a congratulatory Buick.
It was the second game in a winning streak than Tech extended to eight games. Dodd totally re-structured his coaching staff, and not until 1957, when Theron Sapp crashed into the end zone, did Georgia win again, 7-0. Sapp’s score is described as a run, though it was more a collapse across the goal line. He had carried the ball six out of seven plays in a row. When an ancient alumnus knocked on the Butts’ hotel room door later that evening, a member of the family greeted him with, “Well, it has been eight years since we saw you the last time.”
Then there were the two seasons when John Dewberry found himself in the cross-hairs of the Bulldog nation. He had taken leave of Vince Dooley’s team in 1983 and transferred to Georgia Tech, where Bill Curry was trying to get a grip on things. Dewberry said he left because he wanted to play quarterback, not simply be Herschel Walker’s servant. Danged if he didn’t beat the Bulldogs twice, and to this day is held in high disregard in Athens.
Then there were the years the game was played under lights at Grant Field, beginning in 1971, four times on Thanksgiving Day, which had long been the date of an annual freshman game, by far the most notable freshman game in the nation. When freshmen became varsity eligible, this old charity classic died. Never did they play under lights in Athens, but they did kick off on a Friday afternoon in Sanford Stadium in 1994, a game that ran into the evening.
Neither team has matched Tech’s 8-game winning streak since, but twice the Bulldogs have won seven in a row, and has a streak alive now, built on the misfortunes of Chan Gailey. Odds favor them in Athens this weekend. In keeping with the times, both Mark Richt and Paul Johnson will be outfitted with headsets, and their offensive operations are something that would have looked like an invader from outer space when Dodd and Butts were at the wheel.
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I’m thankful for many things
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
There’s nothing like a holiday, and Thanksgiving is extra special, for it’s one that our own country invented. And not only that, but instead of one day, with Thanksgiving we get four. We stuff ourselves on Thursday, then we have three days to work it off.
It can be traced back to the pilgrims and their good friends, the Indians, but nothing official was done about it until Abe Lincoln’s presidency.
In time, the date was jostled around by one president or another, but the heartiness has never diminished. It has come to represent a feasting time. No gifts, no denominational affiliation, no political connection, generally speaking, a day of appreciation for the good life.
In my case, this unofficial expression of thankfulness relates to the birth of my first son. Roger would be 53 now, and though I have lost him, the joy of having him lingers on. He is forever in my heart.
What began as an annual remembrance turned into an occasional touch of humor and a jab at somebody or some thing, so here we go again:
—- I’m thankful I haven’t had to park my car on the front lawn with a “for sale” sign on it —yet.
—- I’m thankful for the cell phone, which I’d sworn I’d never have.
—- I’m thankful for the player who makes a tackle and doesn’t act as if he has never made one before.
—- I’m thankful for “Sounds of Faith,” the Sunday morning program that the former WPCH station had to bring back by popular demand.
—- I’m thankful when the bank statement comes in and I’ve made another mistake — in my favor.
—- I’m thankful when the moon breaks through the night clouds like a great big pumpkin.
—- I’m thankful I made it to 90, but I hadn’t planned on looking 90.
—- I’m thankful aging doesn’t look nearly as bad now as it did when I was 18.
—- I’m thankful for the first sip of a cold beer — about once a month.
—- I’m thankful for the days the Dow Jones goes up, even if my account doesn’t.
—- I’m thankful I got to know Atlanta the way it used to be.
—- I’d be thankful if I could compose an instant answer to the guy in the 18-wheeler up ahead with ‘the sign “How’s my Driving” on the back.
—- I’m thankful I never developed a taste for chicken wings.
—- I’m thankful for 3rd-and 1, and 2nd-and 1, short yardage stuff.
So we close again on another Thanksgiving Day, with best wishes for much happiness. And by the way, have you noticed how many more friends and passersby are saying “Happy Thanksgiving” this year? Somehow, I don’t recall that ever having been as much a seasonal greeting before. Maybe it’s the times, goor nature or the economy. Cheaper to say “Happy Thanksgiving” than mail a card.
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Stage is set for classic Tech-UGA game
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Ah, now comes the reckoning. While Georgia Tech has been critically involved with those powers of the Atlantic Coast Conference — not to mention Jacksonville State and Gardner-Webb — Georgia has been wrangling with such geographical powers as Georgia Southern and Central Michigan, not to mention Alabama and Florida. But all that is backstage stuff. They get down to some pretty danged important business if you’re going to survive in this state.
For seven years in a row Georgia has left Georgia Tech bleeding and suffering, and Chan Gailey on the ropes. This kind of streak has happened only once before in the series, from 1949 through 1956, when Tech won eight years in a row. This time these two deal from a fresh deck of Bicycles — that’s a brand of playing card — and it’s pretty darned important in Athens that Mark Richt win again, especially so since Georgia Tech is on the rise and fears no one.
This will not be Paul Johnson’s first trip to Athens. But this time it’s different. When he appeared then in 2000 he was driving an underpowered Georgia Southern machine, good enough to win the NCAA Division I-AA championship, but not geared to match the rich and powerful. He lost 29-7. He comes armed now with a level of talent he has never known before, either at Georgia Southern or Navy.
He is a man of uncommon presence. One time you see him in the face of one of his errant chaps, then you see him patting one on the head, then you see him strolling casually along the sideline, seemingly detached from what’s taking place on the field. Mark Richt, by contrast, is often vigorously and emotionally involved, floating Draculian plots around in his head. This is a match worth walking the Appalachian Trail to watch. I can hardly wait.
Both teams have won when they should have lost, and lost when they should have won. Georgia has its plaintiffs, injury and police action; Tech has had its own defendants, mainly dealing with incapacitated personnel. Thursday night, “Whiteout Night” at Bobby Dodd, began with a flight of Georgia Tech alums streaking across the heavens in a spacecraft, quite visible and dramatic. What followed was a performance hard to believe. The team that almost lost to Gardner-Webb punished a toughening Miami team severely, could have been 41-10, was 41-23, mainly because Johnson played everybody who showed up for the team meal.
Tech is a confounding football team. You always wonder which one is going to show up. Johnson shocked all the “whiteout” crowd, opening with three passes, one thrown by a receiver. With opposing defenses it’s usually like one of those “shell” games shown at the ballpark. It’s called the “triple option” because the defense must guess which one of the three it will be, with an occasional pass thrown in, all coming out of the computer in Paul Johnson’s head. If it hasn’t already been indicated earlier, this is a kind of Georgia-Georgia Tech never seen before. And I repeat, I can hardly wait. Besides, there’s nothing like a noon kickoff.
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Dimitroff making all the right calls
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
First thing you notice about Thomas Dimitroff is the name. (Has a football ring to it.)
Next thing is his physique. About five-feet-ten, I’d say, and not a pound over 165 (give or take an ounce). Maybe a cornerback in Division III, but no NFL dossier there.
You call him “Thomas,” not Tom. Tom was his dad’s name, a quarterback of some girth in the Canadian league, and for a few snaps with the Boston Patriots.
His hair has a mind of its own, dark and thick, and the face beneath looks young enough to be rushed by a campus fraternity. His dress is casual, relaxed, and if you were looking for a partner at tennis, he has the frame for it.
Truth is, Thomas Dimitroff is the man who runs the Falcons. He is the man who hired Mike Smith, the coach. He is the man who drafted Matt Ryan to play quarterback. These are all the duties of the general manager, which has been Dimitroff’s title since January. And he may have been the first GM ever hired after an interview by web cam.
He is a singular figure in this world of the National Football League. He has worked his way from the basement to the boardroom. He has done the laundry, worked in therapy, been a ball boy, and since he was seven years old, has known what he was shooting for. And this is it, at the age of 42.
His first real job was with the Saskatchewan Roughriders in the Canadian league. He was scouting coordinator. “I made $16,000 a year and rode a bicycle to work,” he said.
This is not his first tour in Atlanta. For four years in the ’90s he scouted the southern colleges for the Detroit Lions and lived in Virginia-Highland. “Ever since,” he said. “I’ve always said if anything came open for me on this side of the continent, I hoped it would be Atlanta.”
It was during that stretch with the Lions that he found the man whose pattern he has copied since in dealing with people. He had followed Bobby Ross’ style of dealing with the people, a disciplined approach but fair, and his passion for the game.
To tell the truth, Dimitroff came to Atlanta an unknown commodity. He was, it seems, recommended by Ernie Accorsi, once a newspaperman and later general manager of the New York Giants. Arthur Blank had retained Accorsi as a consultant in the staffing search, which led to Dimitroff.
Dimitroff’s first crisis came in the draft. He was squarely in the crosshairs of the public — take Ryan, the quarterback, or Glenn Dorsey, the defensive tackle. He never blinked, and neither has Ryan. The beat goes on. The GM hasn’t changed. He treats everybody the same, no frills, no surprises. At last, the Falcons got it right, and right is Dimitroff.
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Atlanta is no longer “Losersville”
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Yes, our town is “Losersville” no more, a condition cleverly revealed by checking the present-day standings and news of the Falcons, the Hawks, the Thrashers, and those wintertime games in which this old town used to wallow about in.
The self-deprecating term was first used by Lewis Grizzard, when he was executive sports editor of The Atlanta Journal — which, I might add, probably comes as a revelation to you now. That Grizzard was ever a sports editor. That was Lewis’ ambition in life, to be sports editor of the Journal, our afternoon paper which claimed to “cover Dixie like the dew.”
So a sports editor he became before he struck gold as a national humorist, something he didn’t realize he had in him until Jim Minter set him on the right path. His career producing sports sections didn’t turn out to be his joy in life, mainly because I was his boss, and he didn’t like the way I yanked on his reins.
I dawdle, though. About “Losersville,” Atlanta just about led the nation in losing franchises. The Flames had been here and soon would take flight to Calgary. The Hawks were consistent losers, until Dominique Wilkins came along, but ‘Nique couldn’t get it done by himself, even with help from Doc Rivers, who has found latter-day serenity with the Celtics.
I won’t apply the insufferable term “miserable” here, as applied to the Falcons, but truth to tell, there were often the laughing stock of the NFL. Coaches came and coaches went, and except for a brief flirtation with joy when Norm Van Brocklin presided, only when Leeman Bennett came on did they have even a fling with the romance of winning, then blew it in the title game with Dallas on our own stadium grass.
Now, have a look. Falcons just a game out of first place in the NFC South. Hawks leading their division of the NBA. Thrashers on a four-game winning streak and looking good safely removed from last place. Only bunch sloshing along in the muck of mediocrity — the Braves. This was the one team that we once could count on to deliver our supply of pride. I wouldn’t contend that they’ve reverted to the condition of rebuilding, but Terry McGuirk and Frank Wren have a full off-season to change course.
Meantime, while we haven’t yet become “Winnersville,” at least we’ve finally shaken the embarrassing old title of “Losersville.”
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Tech’s worst effort under Paul Johnson
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Chapel Hill, N.C. — Kenan Stadium, nestled in a forest of dazzling colors and bathed in an autumn sunshine, is the place you want to watch a college football game. Unless you’re Paul Johnson and you have come back to your home state with your first Georgia Tech team, and the mood turns as blue as the blue in the North Carolina cheering section. You not only lose, but you get trounced, and but for a shocking 85-yard run (by Jonathan Dwyer) in the ruins of, it would have been the first time Tech had been shut out in 141 games.
The Tar Heels scored first and last, and in between, and even when the Yellow Jackets showed some sign of resistance in the first half, there was no charge left in their battery. The final score was 28-7, the bottom line on Johnson’s most depressing day in his first season, the worst defeat and a seemingly improbable performance. On the other hand, consider that this was only the third time the Tar Heels have beaten the Jackets in the past 11 meetings, and the first time Butch Davis has beaten them since he arrived last season.
So much for the agony of Georgia Tech defeat, on to the ecstasy of Tar Heel victory. This was Homecoming Day in Chapel Hill, and for an old warrior who once trod these paths, studied at the feet of learned ones long since gone, it was a weekend fraught with memories. Once upon a time I toted the water and delivered the towels and lived the servile pleasure of being a part of it all. Those were the days when football was less a corporate function, and old Kenan held about 35,000 fully loaded. On this day, almost 60,000 filled these stands, and the hue of blue was overwhelming.
In those collegiate days, campus heroes were Andy Bershak, George Stirnweiss, Jimmy Lalanne. Paul Severin and names long since lost among trees of this forest in which the namesake Kenan financed the root of what has becoming this overwhelming arena. Duke, next door, was the bitter enemy, the Blue Devils. Carolina had a mascot of its own, a ram named Ramses, and the devilish neighbors from Duke came and kidnapped Ramses now and then. And painted his horns the dark shade of Blue Devil blue.
Oh, Ramses was on the grounds on Saturday, another in the long line. He basked in the sunshine, as spoiled as the Georgians spoil their Uga.
This was, of course, Georgia Tech’s worst day in the new regime of Paul Johnson. He is dealing with a higher grade of personnel than he has ever coached before, at Georgia Southern and Navy. But consider how far he has come, from Newland, his mountain hometown, and Western Carolina, where he schooled, many a wagon grease from the Tobacco Triangle. He came up the ladder rung by rung. Butch Davis has practiced his art among the pros along the way. It was a special day here in Chapel Hill, and for one coming home again, there was a mixture of mellowness on the one hand, and the sadness of defeat on the other.
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Emotions rise, fall in Tech’s narrow win
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
It was a game that can’t immediately be defined in common language. For a time, it belonged to Florida State, then to Georgia Tech, but as twilight fell on Bobby Dodd Stadium, it wasn’t easy to remember there had ever been a first quarter. Or a second. Or even a third. And the end came on like a stroke of lightning.
Florida State had twice led by a touchdown, then Georgia Tech took the lead before halftime and rocked along in the second half on what seemed to be a comfortable cushion of a 31-20 lead. It was only then that this improbable game began to take on a totally different personality. It turned on a simple keeper in which Josh Nesbitt gained three yards, but was lost for the rest of the day. And let it not be taken lightly when it is said that Nesbitt is the transmission that propels this Paul Johnson offense. He left the field with a limp and never returned. On came Jaybo Shaw, the freshman quarterback from Flowery Branch.
Not to panic. Shaw had come aboard when Nesbitt went down against Mississippi State and had conducted the offense with aplomb. But this was a different kettle of fish, so to speak. Florida State’s scorching defense kept him on edge, and in short order, the Seminoles had the Yellow Jackets on the run, needing just a field goal to tie. Worse than that, they were within three yards of a touchdown, and thus the plot thickens.
On third down, fullback Marcus Sims launched his 230-pound body toward the end zone, found himself intercepted by Cooper Taylor, the ball came loose and was covered by Rashaad Reid in the end zone, and just as swiftly as that, Georgia Tech’s fate switched from defeat to victory. Forty-five seconds on the clock was written off with two drops of Shaw’s knee, and in stunning succession, utter defeat had been turned into an improbable victory.
It was with a depleted secondary that Tech had gone into this game. Injuries had Johnson left with a secondary composed mainly of freshmen. Taylor, aforementioned, is a freshman out of Marist who has shown sparkling possibility from preseason forward. Tall, lean and quick, he has performed with the form of a veteran. In fact, he was Tech’s leading tackler this day. And Reid, and Michael Peterson, two other freshman, should win gold stars for their performances in the secondary.
Oftimes good defense is overshadowed by Johnson’s spread or triple option, or however one chooses to address it, and on this occasion, so it did. Though in his own summation, Bobby Bowden, who has been around awhile, said, “We simply couldn’t top the wishbone. [That’s his name for it.] They just got too far ahead. That’s the last time we’ll see it this year,” he added, as if in relief.
The football populace will go many a year and never see a game such as this 31-28 nerve-wringer. And it came across in the aftermath, when the turf at Bobby Dodd was swarmed by the delirious cheering section of Tech fans, and somewhere in the crowd that lady television interviewer was overwhelmed. And a cordon of protective personnel stood guard at both goalposts. Such was the day that it was.
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