Grateful

Kicking off the season vs. App. State with Walker & Tanner

I'm so grateful.  I'm so grateful we got to experience this ride.  I mean it.  I guess I'm sad today.  I certainly am, but I'm mostly grateful.  I don't feel a lot of pain and heartache, because I don't think this was a one-off.  You never know, though.  There are no guarantees we'll ever make it back, but it didn't feel like our only shot.  It felt like the beginning.  And we'll likely play those guys in 11 months back in the same building with the SEC on the line.

I'm grateful to be a Dawg.  I mean this sincerely.  I'm biased, but, man, we've got a great fan base.  And, this is just the honest truth, we appreciated this year more than most.  I'm not sure FSU fans in the '90s, USC fans in the early 2000's or Bama Fans in the 2010's really appreciate the winning.  But we're just grateful.  What a ride and what a run.  There are a lot of teams - a lot - who have no idea what a run like this feels like. The run was immensely fun, and it gave me was a lifetime of memories. 

With Morgan at Notre Dame

This season gave me an excuse to take a trip to Chicago with my 13 year old.  We saw the city, I got to hear one of my heroes preach (Bill Hybels) and we beat Notre Dame, kick-starting a season for the ages.

All of us in Jacksonville!

We took the whole family to Jacksonville for us to all see us (finally) beat Florida.  We played on the beach and ate seafood in late October. 

With Brooks watching Nick and Sony's last game in Sanford Stadium

We traveled all across the Southeast.  I took each of my four sons to at least one road game.  We had long drives in the car together, meals by ourselves and new adventures as father and son.  We hugged after Touchdowns and Interceptions.  They dressed up as their favorite players and ate cotton candy. 

Tanner and I took the only long drive home from the Plains, knowing we'd get our shot at redemption against someone in Atlanta.  We did, against those same guys.

With Walk-man at Tech

After Thanksgiving, it was magical enough.  11-1 and we beat most of our rivals...badly.  We had eaten a lot of good food and shared a lot of good laughs.  It was just beginning.

Me & my friend, Chase, at the SEC Championship Game in his hat that has never lost to Auburn

We vanquished our only loss of the season and earned a trip to the playoff.  12-1 and SEC champs.  I had been to every game but Tennessee.  Would there be one or two more? 

My boys at Christmas with their Clemson cousins, Parker & Mason

Christmas at my parent's house was like never before.  My brother's family is all Clemson Tigers.  We were both in the playoffs.  Would we meet in the natty?  There was a lot of ribbing and trash talking. But we were all happy to be along for the ride. 

Emily & I with our good friends, Jana & Buck, after the Rose Bowl

L.A.  Tinsel Town.  Hollywood.  Beverly Hills.  Venice Beach.  Malibu.  Santa Monica.  And a little Vegas.  Emily and I did it all.  It was the first time she and I had been away together for that long in a decade.  We'll never forget it.  When Sony scored we hugged and yelled and cried.  I'm certain it was one of the top 10 happiest moments of my life.

Morgan & I with some of our crew, Heather, Ben & Mark...with the trophy we were oh so close to getting.

My son, Morgan, saved all his Christmas money from family to help buy his ticket to the National Championship Game.  We spent all day together.  We hugged and cheered screamed our guts out.  We lost on the last play of the college football season to the best program (maybe ever) in the last 15 years.  How can I be sad?

Saturdays (and a couple of Mondays) afforded me time with family that nothing else comes close to.  We have little control over the outcome, despite our best efforts at loud screaming and wearing lucky hats.  I wore a tie yesterday because it was an important occasion, but mostly because it was my Daddy's Bulldog tie.  It's probably older than me.  Because my daddy was there with me.

Some people will wallow in misery over this.  They will say this was the most Atlanta thing ever or the most Georgia thing ever.  Some will say they'll never get over it.  I don't get that.  What's to wallow in?  It's so, so, so very difficult to get here.  Enjoy it.  And if you care for a little football perspective -- we've got a fantastic young coach and more talent coming in than we've ever had.  This won't be the last time.  Trust me, depressing is driving home from the Liberty Bowl after losing to UCF to finish 6-7.  This wasn't depressing.

Others will wonder what's the big deal.  The big deal is that we did this together.  I saw friends from college in Chicago and Los Angeles.  I took a trip with my wife.  I spent Saturdays with my boys.  I was part of something bigger than myself.  It connected me with something deep in my soul.

Sistee, my brother, Courtney, Jim, me, Mama & Daddy

Georgia Football, has been a family thing for me for a long time.  Jim & Sistee Williams got us hooked.  I cheered for Tim Worley & Rodney Hampton the way my boys have for Todd Gurley, Nick Chubb & Sony Michel.  We are linked by generations of silver britches.

Don't be sad, Bulldog Nation.  Be grateful. 

And Dawgs...Keep Chopping.  That tree is coming down one day soon.

Sports

Kris Jenkins wins it for Villanova at the buzzer.

Sunday marked one month since the Super Bowl, and Monday I finally emerged from under my sports rock.  Since late in the night on February 5, I gave myself a one month ban on sports talk radio and barely watched ESPN except to catch a UGA or UNC basketball game.  I needed to create some separation for myself.  I didn't want to hear about, read about or talk about the improbable comeback.  I'm happy to hear the conversation is now much more about pitchers and catchers.  It's March.  Hope springs eternal for my Braves.

I've had a rough year in sports.  It all started in Houston, but not in the Super Bowl.  It started in at the Final Four at NRG Stadium. My wife is a UNC fan, and we're pretty big Tar Heel Basketball fans.  The stars were aligning last march for the Heels' third National Championship under Roy Williams.  Preseason #1.  Regular season ACC Champs.  ACC Tournament Champs.  And they'd made it to the National Championship, and even hit an improbable 3-pointer to tie it up.  Then Kris Jenkins happened, and Villanova won the greatest NCAA tournament championship ever.

Surely it would get better in the Fall.  My Dawgs had a new coach, started the season with a resounding win in the Chick-fil-a Kickoff vs. UNC (can you say house divided?), featuring our star player's (Nick Chubb) improbable comeback from injury, and thrilling last minute win at Mizzou at the hand of our rising star, freshman QB Jacob Eason.  Against undefeated Tennessee at home, we'd played our best game of the season, trailed late and made a miracle play with 10 seconds left to seemingly secure the biggest home win in several years.  It would be a huge moment for our rookie coach and rookie QB, who had made the (almost) winning pass.  Then the unthinkable happened.

Jauan Jennings makes the game winning catch.

But the Falcons were rolling through the season.  Midway through the year I thought we looked like a Super Bowl contender.  Indeed, we were.  Matt Ryan was the best player in the league, except maybe for his teammate, Julio Jones.  The offense was unstoppable and the defense was maturing.  The playoffs became the ride of the lifetime, and at halftime of the Super Bowl, I couldn't hardly believe my eyes.  We were going to win the Super Bowl.  The loss to 'Nova stung.  The Hail Mary that derailed our season still hurt.  This would give me some momentary sports joy.  Would I get the red, black or gray Super Bowl Champion shirt?  Maybe one of each, or one short sleeve and one long sleeve.  And a hat.  And a pennant for the basement.  And you know what happened.

James White scores the game winning TD in Overtime

In the stadium where the season of my sports discontent started, it ended.  I'd seen my favorites lose the greatest NCAA championship game ever, one of the greatest SEC games ever (Two 40+ yd TD passes in 10 seconds), and the greatest Super Bowl ever (the only one to ever go to overtime.)  I needed a break.

But I can't just give up on sports.  Hope springs eternal, and there are too many lessons.  During my hiatus from sports talk, my boys' basketball seasons marched on.  My youngest was in an instructional league for Kindergarten and 1st graders.  They didn't keep score.  At that age, the kids there were super aggressive kind of took over.  Nothing wrong with that.  The kids were trying to make plays and really got after it on defense.  It was hard for some kids to even get a shot off all season.  In the last couple of games, the referee cleared a path for a few kids who hadn't been able to score all year to get some clear shots.  They were ecstatic when they'd finally made one.  They beamed the whole way back down the court.  That is what sports have really been about in my life.

Sports build confidence and character like few things I know of.  They teach us to keep fighting and working hard.  They teach discipline and effort.  They teach us to respect leaders.  They teach unselfishness.  They teach teamwork.  Few things have shaped my work life and adult life the way sports did.

They also teach dealing with disappointment.  In the movie Fever Pitch, Jimmy Fallon's character, Ben, describes his affection for his beloved Red Sox and their success this way:  "I like being part of something that's bigger than me...It's good for your soul to invest in something you can't control."  And guess what?  Much of our lives we can't control, and we have to learn to get back up and move on when we're disappointed.  Even being a real fan can be positive.  Can we learn to stick with a team or organization through highs and lows or will we be a front-runner fan?  That teaches us something about commitment and relationships.  People will disappoint us.  Will we stick with them?  And isn't success sweeter when we stuck with them for the long haul?

I love art -- music, movies, artwork.  But someone decides what they look like and how they end up.  The artists controls what they create with the skills they spent a lifetime honing.  But sports are unpredictable.  We have no idea what will happen when the game begins, and how hard you worked doesn't always mean you get the results you want, and sometimes you get lucky, and sometimes the ball bounces the wrong way, and sometimes one decision changes the course of the game, and sometimes your preparation meets the perfect opportunity, and sometimes you have to play again after being incredibly disappointed, and sometimes you celebrate a win only to realize there's another game.  Ain't that life?

And the greatest thing about it?  There's always next year, and in your life, there's always tomorrow.  After all, the Heels are looking like they could make another run, the Dawgs are about to start spring practice, and the Braves look like a young, hungry team.  Don't talk to me about NFL free agency.  I'm not ready for the NFL yet.  

I'm still not over it.

At least I'm not a Warriors or Indians fan.  

I Don't Get Richard Sherman

I'll be honest.  I don't get Richard Sherman.  In case you've been living on Jupiter for the past week.  Here are his postgame interview after Sunday's win versus San Francisco.

Sherman went on to disgrace Crabtree in the postgame press conference, pointing out the term 'mediocre' again and again.  I get a lot about football, but I don't get this.  I kid my friends that I know the most about two things:  the Bible and football.  I spent five seasons in an SEC locker room.  Adrenaline is high in and after a game.  I'm glad all I've ever said on a field wasn't recorded.  But this was clearly pre-meditated as it was repeated in the press-conference and on twitter and even Monday morning.  And I don't get that.

I don't mind brashness and smack-talk.  I may or may not have been known to talk a little smack in church-league basketball.  I'm sorry, that's entirely inaccurate.  I talked a lot of smack.  It's not the dreads.  I've got a man-crush on Todd Gurley (Running Back for my Dawgs) and his dreadlocks.  And I would weep if Jarvis Jones cut his dreads.  I love Marshawn Lynch, Sherman's teammate.  It's not the cockiness.  I wore #2 in high school because of one player:  Prime Time -- Deion Sanders.  I loved his showmanship.  I like a good showman.  I loved Michael Jordan and Larry Bird, the two worst trash-talkers in NBA history.  Sports calls for a little bravado.  Football calls for the most.  And some of my favorite things about the NFL are touchdown and, more importantly, sack dances.  It's a sport.  It's supposed to be fun.  Richard Sherman isn't fun.  I think he's just a goober.  This wasn't his first run-in with the media.  He had a very awkward and mean-spirited conversation with Skip Bayless a year and a half ago on ESPN's First Take.  Now, Bayless can be annoying himself, but I just don't get it.

I trust if you're reading this you've read enough to know a little about Sherman.  He came from a tough neighborhood, but graduated 2nd in his class.  He went to Stanford and got his degree.  That's pretty much an equivalent of an Ivy League education.  Stanford is no joke.  They don't just give those degrees away.  Richard Sherman is probably smarter than you and me.  But he was not wise this past weekend.  There's such a big difference in book smarts and wisdom.  Sherman also volunteers in the community, going to speak at local schools and such.  Is that a great thing for a pro athlete to do?  Of course.  But that does not define one's character in totality.  Our words are also part of our character.  And what parent now wants Shermon to come speak at their kid's school?  The most important thing, for me, is the lessons to learn through this about ourselves.  Moreover, these are important lessons to teach our young people who play sports.

• No matter what neighborhood you're from, you don't have permission to be a jerk.  Just a hunch that Sherman's upbringing was tougher than mine.  Lots of people grow up in tough neighborhoods and are wonderful people.  Sherman has chosen this persona.  We all get to choose.
• Never pick a fight with the media.  The media always gets the last word and always wins.
• It's clear that cultural differences are persistent in America.  I'm a white dude, and I can't escape that.  I admit I don't understand everything about urban African-American culture, Hispanic culture, or Asian culture, or a thousand other cultures.  Heck, I don't understand women (But what man really does?).  But I don't think this was about "Oh, you just don't get black people."  After watching that, the African-American fathers I know would have said to their sons, "Don't you ever act like that."
• I'm disappointed people turned on Richard Sherman with racial slurs.  There's no place for it.  I want us to get by and through this as a country.  There is no race but the human race.  We are all made in God's image.  As I said, I think Sherman was just being a jerk, and those come in all shapes and sizes.  I'm so grateful to pastor a diverse church with people from many different backgrounds.
• I am grateful that Sherman has apologized and realized he made a mistake.  America has a large capacity to forgive, especially celebrities.  People make mistakes.  Sherman realized he took attention away from an historical game.
• I'm disappointed that in the seminal moment of his career, after making the biggest play he might ever make, he made this about him (and not his team) and turned it into an opportunity to lambaste an opposing player, who left it all on the field just like him.  This might be the biggest moment in Seattle sports, and it has turned into a Sherman-fest, for all the wrong reasons.  We're not talking about his play.  We're talking about his mouth.  Furthermoe, no matter what he said to Crabtree, you don't go over and slap the backside of an opponent in a moment like that.  There's too much raw emotion, and it's simply rubbing it in.  That was the take-away for me that has become clear the more I've thought about it.

You never bring honor to yourself by dishonoring others.

I don't know if Sherman is a Follower of Jesus.  For those of us who are or are considering it, this is a crucial lesson.  It is so easy to dishonor others.  I found it odd this all happened on MLK weekend.  This was not the way of Dr. King.  Dr. King simply 'got it' when it came to understanding how connected we are has humans.  In his book Stride Toward Freedom, King wrote, "Because men are brothers, if you harm me, you harm yourself...When I am commanded to love, I am commanded to restore community, to resist injustice, and to meet the needs of my brothers."  That is the way of Jesus.  By dishonoring Michael Crabtree, Richard Sherman brought dishonor to himself.  Richard Sherman might be on of the top two corners in the game today, but I contrasted his comments and postgame reaction with those of one of the top four or five cornerbacks of all time after the AFC Championship Game:

Champ Bailey.  First Ballot Hall of Fame Cornerback.  12 Pro Bowls.  7-time All Pro.  All gratitude.  All team.  All blessing.  All appreciation.  I had the pleasure of working for UGA Football when Champ was in college.  He was a quiet kid from a way-down-South Georgia community.  He has always been this gracious and humble.  Always.  But you hear an old sage from Champ Bailey now.  You hear 35 years-old.  Champ's body began to break down this year.  Age got to him.  He is no longer one of the best, but he's helping his team win.  Age has a way of humbling the greatest of athletes.  Richard Sherman is 25.  I suspect those ten years make a big difference.  They certainly did in my life.  I hope Sherman learns from this.  I hope the years offer him wisdom.  That wisdom, gratitude, and humility is the difference between being a Champ and a chump.