The Magic

Larry Munson, voice of the Georgia Bulldogs, is a welcome guest in our home on Saturday afternoons in the fall. His gruff voice rumbles through my living room like a freight train, enticing an irregular heartbeat as he implores us in radio land to "get the picture." Today, unlike most football Saturdays, I am entertaining Mr. Munson alone, and the picture I see is of my eight-year-old son and his Dad enjoying a Saturday afternoon at Sanford Stadium. I rushed them out the door this morning clad in Bulldog finery. Now as Munson makes each play sound like the last in a championship game, I write this letter:

I sent you on a trip today. You left in a sweatshirt but will need only a T-shirt when you get there. I sent you in my place. It was the ultimate sacrifice.

You will ride with your Dad to Wrightsville and turn onto Ga. 15. There will be cars that seem to be following you. Flags will fly proudly from the side windows, and stuffed puppies will beckon your support from the rear. You will get into a traffic jam a few miles from your destination. Try not to get frustrated if it takes a couple of hours to drive ten miles. Just enjoy looking into the cars at all the people dressed in our favorite colors. Later on Dad will mumble or downright yell as he tries to find a parking place and tries not to run over fans. When the car is finally parked, you will need to walk fast so you can keep up with Dad. You see, he smells the stadium from the top of that hill you parked on and is possessed by the magic that abides within this wonderful old Southern institution. Take his hand, for even though his footsteps are quick he wants nothing more than to pass on to you the passion that has his own heart racing. Pumped for battle, you will weave through heavy traffic to make it down a hill so steep your heels try to pass your toes. The atmosphere will be charged with anticipation. People will be partying with picnic baskets arrayed on tailgates and folks will yell excitedly. Most will be comrades, but "the enemy" will be circling like South Georgia gnats after a Popsicle. When you make it to the University Book Store, stay close to Dad so you won't be lost in the sea of red and black trying to take home just a small piece of the magic.

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