DAWG BLOG No. 2
"All In The Family"
My dad was the biggest Auburn Tigers fan I ever met. When he died, the Auburn Alumni club ran an ad in the Dalton paper saying how much they'd miss him. That's saying a little something.
In 1956, after an upbringing in Queens, New York, my father moved to Birmingham, Alabama for his senior year of high school. He left his beloved Yankees. He left the grandmother who'd raised him. He left everything he'd ever known and came 1,000 miles south to a place where people called him a Yankee, where teachers put him in remedial English when they couldn't understand his thick Northern accent and where other kids ridiculed him in many of the ways they did those still relegated to the back of the bus.
My grandfather never went to college. I'm not sure anyone in our family before him ever did either. But in 1957, at age 16, my father matriculated as a freshman at Auburn University. An avid sports fan, it didn't take long for him to embrace the passion of SEC football. Four months later, Auburn won their first national championship under Coach Shug Jordan and the die was cast. From that day forward, my father bled orange and blue. He also met my mother there. I think that had something to do with it too.
When we built the house I grew up in, my dad had our basement finished out into a gameroom -- with orange carpet. He bought a pool table and had a Tiffany-style lamp made to hang over it with the Tiger Mascot, the Auburn AU and "Joe Tuggle's Auburn Tigers" down the side. A rug that said "An Auburn Tiger Lives Here" hung on one wall with various pictures of Tigers, Eagles and framed 8"x 10"s of David Langer and the 1972 "17-16 Punt, Bama, Punt" scoreboard on the other.
In retrospect, the basement bathroom must have been the one room in our house where my mother wasn't given an opinion. The linoleum on the floor, was a repeating geometric pattern of orange, blue and white. The wallpaper was also orange, blue and white but with repeating illustrations of Tigers playing football, baseball, basketball, golf and running track. It was truly overwhelming. But the coup de grace was the carved wooden toilet seat cover featuring the snarling tiger. Auburn at the back of the bowl, Tigers at the front.
Like I said, my father was the biggest Auburn Tigers fan I ever met. And by relation, my brother and I bled orange and blue too. We lived for trips once a fall to an Auburn game in the loveliest village on the plain. We shared in the Saturday Fall ritual of watching daddy squirm in his "big chair" watching Auburn try to put a game away. Begging the Saturday after every Thanksgiving to put a whuppin' on those bastards from Tuscaloosa.
We hated Alabama. And we hated Florida. But for some reason, we had a healthy respect for the University of Georgia. Maybe it was because we lived in Bulldawg country. Maybe it was because half our friends were Georgia fans. Maybe it was because my parens tailgated with a very special group of friends every Fall in Athens. Whatever it was, Georgia was a friendly rivalry and losing to them never hurt quite as much.
Years later, when it came time for graduate school I enrolled in the UGA Journalism School and two years later, my brother Jonathan came to Athens for his undergraduate degree. The famililal rivalry was on. The teams were set. Mom and Dad for Auburn, Jonathan and me for Georgia. Fall Saturdays tailgating with them in Athens are some of the fondest memories I have. I think I still owe my dad $20 from the game in 1990.
Since 1897, Auburn and Georgia have played each other 110 times - the seventh longest rivalry in college football. And in just about every way possible, it is a close rivalry. Coming into Saturday's game, Georgia led the cumulative points total for the teams by only 20 points. Two years ago, the differential, was 3.
Saturday, the game was played in Auburn where traditionally, UGA plays pretty well. Auburn was ranked 5th in the country, trying to position themselves for a run at a place in the BCS championship game. On the heels of two embarrassing losses to Vanderbilt and Kentucky, Georgia was unranked and hoping not to get embarrassed. I was right there with them.
Friday, a former intern of ours who is presently a student at Auburn, sent me an email to say she'd be thinking of me Saturday when Auburn was up 30 points in the second half. She had the score right. Just not the right team. I really must email her back.
As is often the case in the Georgia-Auburn game things did not quite go according to script. When the dust settled, the Dawgs took it to Auburn and walked away with a 37-15 victory. Best of all, on the final drive Georgia drove down the field and when the clock got inside a minute, downed the ball on Auburn's 5 instead of trying to score.
The only thing better than winning, is winning with class. Perhaps someone will send a copy of the tape to Steve Spurrier so he can see what that looks like.
I lost my dad in 1999 and I miss him every day. I miss him when I have a big decision to make. When I'm not sure how to be a good daddy. When I'm looking to find my place in the world. I really miss him on days like yesterday when for three hours once a year, we shared a special contradictory bond. Fierce rivals. Best friends.
I know he was looking down at the game yesterday. I know he was cheering hard for Auburn. And while I know he's not happy about owing both me and my brother $20, at the end of the game, when he looked down and saw us laughing and talking to each other on our cell phones, he smiled. And he was proud.
He misses us too.
"All In The Family"
My dad was the biggest Auburn Tigers fan I ever met. When he died, the Auburn Alumni club ran an ad in the Dalton paper saying how much they'd miss him. That's saying a little something.
In 1956, after an upbringing in Queens, New York, my father moved to Birmingham, Alabama for his senior year of high school. He left his beloved Yankees. He left the grandmother who'd raised him. He left everything he'd ever known and came 1,000 miles south to a place where people called him a Yankee, where teachers put him in remedial English when they couldn't understand his thick Northern accent and where other kids ridiculed him in many of the ways they did those still relegated to the back of the bus.
My grandfather never went to college. I'm not sure anyone in our family before him ever did either. But in 1957, at age 16, my father matriculated as a freshman at Auburn University. An avid sports fan, it didn't take long for him to embrace the passion of SEC football. Four months later, Auburn won their first national championship under Coach Shug Jordan and the die was cast. From that day forward, my father bled orange and blue. He also met my mother there. I think that had something to do with it too.
When we built the house I grew up in, my dad had our basement finished out into a gameroom -- with orange carpet. He bought a pool table and had a Tiffany-style lamp made to hang over it with the Tiger Mascot, the Auburn AU and "Joe Tuggle's Auburn Tigers" down the side. A rug that said "An Auburn Tiger Lives Here" hung on one wall with various pictures of Tigers, Eagles and framed 8"x 10"s of David Langer and the 1972 "17-16 Punt, Bama, Punt" scoreboard on the other.
In retrospect, the basement bathroom must have been the one room in our house where my mother wasn't given an opinion. The linoleum on the floor, was a repeating geometric pattern of orange, blue and white. The wallpaper was also orange, blue and white but with repeating illustrations of Tigers playing football, baseball, basketball, golf and running track. It was truly overwhelming. But the coup de grace was the carved wooden toilet seat cover featuring the snarling tiger. Auburn at the back of the bowl, Tigers at the front.
Like I said, my father was the biggest Auburn Tigers fan I ever met. And by relation, my brother and I bled orange and blue too. We lived for trips once a fall to an Auburn game in the loveliest village on the plain. We shared in the Saturday Fall ritual of watching daddy squirm in his "big chair" watching Auburn try to put a game away. Begging the Saturday after every Thanksgiving to put a whuppin' on those bastards from Tuscaloosa.
We hated Alabama. And we hated Florida. But for some reason, we had a healthy respect for the University of Georgia. Maybe it was because we lived in Bulldawg country. Maybe it was because half our friends were Georgia fans. Maybe it was because my parens tailgated with a very special group of friends every Fall in Athens. Whatever it was, Georgia was a friendly rivalry and losing to them never hurt quite as much.
Years later, when it came time for graduate school I enrolled in the UGA Journalism School and two years later, my brother Jonathan came to Athens for his undergraduate degree. The famililal rivalry was on. The teams were set. Mom and Dad for Auburn, Jonathan and me for Georgia. Fall Saturdays tailgating with them in Athens are some of the fondest memories I have. I think I still owe my dad $20 from the game in 1990.
Since 1897, Auburn and Georgia have played each other 110 times - the seventh longest rivalry in college football. And in just about every way possible, it is a close rivalry. Coming into Saturday's game, Georgia led the cumulative points total for the teams by only 20 points. Two years ago, the differential, was 3.
Saturday, the game was played in Auburn where traditionally, UGA plays pretty well. Auburn was ranked 5th in the country, trying to position themselves for a run at a place in the BCS championship game. On the heels of two embarrassing losses to Vanderbilt and Kentucky, Georgia was unranked and hoping not to get embarrassed. I was right there with them.
Friday, a former intern of ours who is presently a student at Auburn, sent me an email to say she'd be thinking of me Saturday when Auburn was up 30 points in the second half. She had the score right. Just not the right team. I really must email her back.
As is often the case in the Georgia-Auburn game things did not quite go according to script. When the dust settled, the Dawgs took it to Auburn and walked away with a 37-15 victory. Best of all, on the final drive Georgia drove down the field and when the clock got inside a minute, downed the ball on Auburn's 5 instead of trying to score.
The only thing better than winning, is winning with class. Perhaps someone will send a copy of the tape to Steve Spurrier so he can see what that looks like.
I lost my dad in 1999 and I miss him every day. I miss him when I have a big decision to make. When I'm not sure how to be a good daddy. When I'm looking to find my place in the world. I really miss him on days like yesterday when for three hours once a year, we shared a special contradictory bond. Fierce rivals. Best friends.
I know he was looking down at the game yesterday. I know he was cheering hard for Auburn. And while I know he's not happy about owing both me and my brother $20, at the end of the game, when he looked down and saw us laughing and talking to each other on our cell phones, he smiled. And he was proud.
He misses us too.
posted by Michael Tuggle at 4:26 PM
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