Go Dawgs... This One's for you, Fro!

Somehow, without my even noticing, I have turned into a middle aged (man) college sports fan who lets her enthusiasm get the best of her in inopportune and awkward times. Let me explain. In college, I maybe went to three football games, lame, I know, but I am just not one to relish the chance to stand in bleachers, hot sun blaring down on me, surrounded by a million fratty idiots smuggling whiskey into their 64 oz. cokes. No, I was much more the student who sold her tickets for profit, sat on my front porch beer in hand luxuriating over tailgate food and cigarettes knowing that at any time I could enter my air conditioned house. I have never been my father’s daughter when it comes to football, until I moved to New York. Maybe I miss the South, maybe I miss college, maybe I’ve just uncovered some sort of hidden pride for my alma mater that I never knew existed, but I find myself now accosting innocent tourists or residents of the City with a husky “Go Dawgs” whenever I pass ANYONE wearing University of Georgia paraphernalia. I have now scared the living daylights out of an innocent 60 something year old man somberly observing the World Trade Center site. “Go Dawgs” I yelled at him in passing noticing his Georgia Bulldogs t-shirt and watched horrified as he clutched at this chest and hid behind his tiny wife, he must not be from here I told myself, where’s his school pride? “Go Dawgs” I screamed at the man wearing a UGA sweatshirt on a walk with his child and wife who burned my soul with the glare of scorn she gave for addressing her husband, who, by the way, gave me a confused glance and then realized what I was talking about...Hellooooo, did you NOT dress yourself this morning?! “Go Dawgs” I’ve chirped at a construction worker wearing a Georgia hat, only to be informed in a thick (YANKEE) accent, “Hey try Greenbay Packas sweethawt…” How in the hell am I supposed to know, that the same f’ing ‘G’ I’ve seen a million times at my four years in school is the same ‘G’ used by another pro sports team? I’m currently trying to quell my need to relate to fellow Southerners sporting Georgia gear as it seems that each attempt I’ve made has caused me or my victim strife and embarrassment, but I still haven’t mastered myself enough to silence my exclamations. I suppose I can only hope that one day soon I’ll encounter a Georgia fan in touch enough with the outfit he put on that morning to recognize that “Go Dawgs” isn’t a threat or a come on, but simply an attempt to relate with a stranger in a City where most of its residents are foreign to a nice Southern hello!

Comments

Anonymous said…
In 1977, I found myself tired, hungover and stupified from the overnight flight to Europe via Iceland, standing in lineat 9am on a Monday morning waiting to enter the Heineken brewery in Amsterdam . To my amazement, I heard someone at the front of the line say, "Go Dawgs!" Tho not wearing any UGA apparel at the time I immediately perked up, responded in kind and found myself thinking beyond the breakfast beer and wondering where I could find a Dutch "coffee" shop. Ahhh, you are truly your father's daughter m'dear little girl. How 'Bout THEM Dawgs!?!

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