The Junkyard Blawg has moved!
Along with the other ajc.com blogs, the Junkyard Blawg has moved over to WordPress, where the blogging and commenting experience promises to be better. Join us over at the new WordPress version of the Junkyard Blawg by clicking on the link below.
AJC > Sports > UGA > Blog > Archives > 2005 > August
August 2005
It’s past time to honor Dooley …
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
It was great to see the “Tribute to Vince Dooley” on WSB-TV Wednesday night.
Probably because of the controversy that surrounded the end of his 40-year tenure as coach/athletic director at UGA â€â€? and the bogus athletics vs. academics terms in which that controversy has been portrayed â€â€? I don’t think Coach Dooley’s career was properly celebrated when his forced retirement came.
Channel 2’s hourlong tribute had former Dooley players and assistant coaches from throughout his years at Georgia talking about the “tough,” “hard-nosed” disciplinarian with a heart who was never the players’ best friend but was their best teacher. As Herschel Walker said, “sometimes you fear people that you respect.” Dooley’s players obviously respected him. Many came to love him.
Of the five head coaches at UGA during my lifetime, Dooley is my favorite by far. I liked the way he exuded calm determination and produced teams that played above their athletic talent level and hardly ever were out of a game. If a Dooley team could hang tough until the fourth quarter, you always felt they had a chance to beat anybody.
His style of play may not have been flashy, but it was consistent. He didn’t call his own plays, as is the current vogue among head coaches, but as someone in the tribute noted, his ability to bring good people together and let them do what they did best was a key factor in his success. He never tried to be the offensive or defensive coordinator. He was “the general” in charge, who rallied the troops when needed. And Dooley liked to run the ball which, when all is said and done, is still a pretty damn good way to win football games.
I remember when Dooley was hired � the unknown freshman coach from a rival school � everyone in Athens wondered whether AD Joel Eaves had lost his mind. A year later, Eaves looked like a genius. And the Athens community quickly embraced Dooley. When Oklahoma tried to lure him away after a couple of seasons, I remember those of us in the eighth grade at Clarke Junior signing a petition begging him to stay. We were fortunate that he did, for a good, long time.
Dooley’s winning record was great, but what I always particularly appreciated about him was that he was a classy coach and an obviously very intelligent, articulate guy â€â€? something of a rarity among coaches in those days.
Hopefully, the WSB tribute � which is being sold as a DVD to raise scholarship funds for the Georgia Letterman Education Foundation � will be just the beginning of the legendary coach finally getting his due from the UGA community and alumni.
Dooley-Sanford Stadium? Sanford-Dooley Stadium? I don’t care which way you do it â€â€? and I don’t expect it to happen as long as a certain political hack/fund-raiser is around â€â€? but Vince Dooley’s name needs to be on the best-looking college stadium in the country. The stadium where he built the legend of Dooley’s Dogs.
Growing up in Athens town …
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Let’s talk Georgia Bulldogs.
I’m a lifelong Dog. Literally.
Born and raised in Athens, I don’t remember a time when the Bulldogs weren’t an everyday part of my consciousness.
I grew up within earshot of Sanford Stadium — when I was too young to go to games, I remember being able to hear the distant sound of the Redcoat band from our back yard.
My earliest Bulldog memories include my Dad nervously devouring a bag of oranges while he listened to Ed Thilenius call games on the radio. Watching the game highlights on Sunday, along with a sportswriters roundtable show hosted by Furman Bisher. I woke up with mumps on New Year’s Day 1960, but that didn’t stop me from getting propped up with pillows in the den to watch Athens homeboy Fran Tarkenton and the Bulldogs on television — the first time we’d ever had that opportunity! — beating Missouri in the Orange Bowl. My memory is hazy (I was only 7 and sick, after all), but I seem to recall being disappointed the Dogs had to wear the white road jerseys instead of the beloved red ones.
Although I have vague recollections of being taken to a game when I was very young (I only recall the band), the first games I really remember were during the Johnny Griffith years, with Larry Rakestraw at quarterback. Still the era of the silver helmets as well as the silver britches. I can clearly recall listening to that 1963 game against Miami where Rakestraw set an NCAA passing record.
I began attending home games regularly with the advent of the Vince Dooley era. That was back when you could still show up at the stadium for most games and get “high school” tickets if you were under college age. To ensure I got into even the sold-out games, though, I started selling programs, and did that throughout junior high and high school.
Then came my four years at UGA — the years when my Athens High classmate Andy Johnson was our best running quarterback ever. By then, my devotion to the UGA even stood out amid my fellow students. I chose not to go the fraternity route but a friend who was a Kappa Sig once said to me, “Damn, you love those Dogs better than any Greek I know!”
And so it has continued. The past 30 years, I’ve been a Bulldog Club member and season ticket holder. I married a UGA grad, one of my brothers was a Redcoat and my son — who I brainwashed from the cradle — never wanted to go anywhere else. He’s now a UGA junior, and was practically christened at Sanford Stadium! (Well, OK, at the nearby Episcopal chapel.) My 11-year-old daughter got really excited seeing all the girls gathered for rush when we cut through the Tate Center recently on our way to the UGA bookstore (where she stocked up on official UGA notebooks and added to her growing Bulldog wardrobe).
Here at the AJC, my Bulldog mania is well established. A former news editor who was an ardent fan of the North Avenue Trade School used to sneeringly refer to me as “Mr. Bulldog.” Since I couldn’t think of anything polite to call him back, I used to just say, “woof woof!” (As much as I love UGA, I hate that other school. I don’t even like setting foot on their campus, so you know how much I love my daughter when I say I attended all her ballet recitals at the Ferst Center!)
So those are some of my Bulldog bona fides. That doesn’t mean I have nothing but good to say on the subject of Georgia football. I figure a lifetime of support has earned me the right to gripe when I think it’s warranted, as you’ll no doubt find out.
But when all is said and done, I’m Bulldog through and through.
And when that lone trumpeter up in the southwest corner of the upper deck of Sanford Stadium begins playing those opening notes of the battle hymn of the Bulldog Nation on Saturday, the chills will go up and down my spine like they always do.
Like I said, let’s talk Georgia Bulldogs!
