musings on stationery

glory, glory

soooo…in case you are not a member of the human race and somehow did not hear or see the outcome of the Georgia vs. Alabama SEC championship game on saturday night, we lost.  in a stunning, most gut-wrenching, get-your-hopes-way-up-and-then-dash-them kind of way.  in the last minute and eight seconds of the game trailing by 4, we took the ball 80 yards down the field but needed 85 to win.  as i was marveling out loud at aaron murray’s prowess in making that many good, fair and long passes in that short amount of time, jumping up and down and giving rush high fives, telling him his mama’s team might be playing in the NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP!!  just imagine!!  …i heard rbb say softly, “that was the game.”  i think, what in the heck is that crazy man talking about.  and then alabama started celebrating and it was, in a word…


and then my heart broke into a million pieces all over my living room floor.

i know that’s dramatic. but that is truly what it felt like.  i think brin said it best when she said that she had long-term breakups that hurt less than that game.  i know it’s just a game.  i know it’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of life.  but man, it would have been such a good story.  and i LOVE a good story.  i was totally unprepared for how emotional i was going to be following the game.  i mean y’all, i felt like that sad blob in the paxil (or lexapro?) commercial for days.  kind of like all of the people in this picture (real, live georgia fans following the game.)

i think this photo actually captures the cycle of emotions pretty well…you start out being angry (man on left).  ticked off.  wronged.  it might consist of inner thoughts in all caps, “IT WAS OUR TURN, DAMNIT!”  then, extreme sadness (head in hands) over how things transpired.  you had ‘em.  you really did.  the what ifs creep in…  the two pointer, the missed penalty on murray’s hit, the tipped last pass. why, oh why, couldn’t one of those things be different.  then a state of childlike innocence and optimism (young boy): “well, there’s always next year.  maybe lightning will strike twice. murray will be back, after all.”  and then you check your phone to see who just texted you – because life, it goes on.

but it is so hard on my heart to see big, burly, tough guys who left so much sweat and toil on that field reduced to…this.  can someone pass me a tissue?!

i love this quote:

Why do sports hold so much power? Not because they’re life and death — they’re not. But they make us feel life and death, in all its messy glory, in all its numbing agony. I felt all those things Saturday night, and so did those 75,000 people in the Georgia Dome, and so did all those millions watching and listening, even those who didn’t care who won and lost, but were screaming at the end because the game made them feel.

it’s from this article shared by one of my facebook friends.  that game, if nothing else, made you feel something.  but i still can’t help but wish that for me and the rest of the bulldogs, it was elation.

maybe that kid is right.  there is always next year.




  • Feisty B on Dec 08, 2012 Reply

    Beautifully done DJ. You brought me to tears (again) BUT I’ve never been prouder to be a dawg. Maybe next year indeed…

    • callie on Dec 09, 2012 Reply

      oh FB, will we ever not shed a tear when we think about this game? i know not. we do have so much to be proud of, and that actually makes me want to cry again. GAH.

  • Stephanie on Dec 07, 2012 Reply

    You absolutely nailed this, Callie. Absolutely love the stages of grief demonstrated in that picture. At least us Bulldogs have each other!

    • callie on Dec 09, 2012 Reply

      yes! we have a mighty nation to lean on. and my goodness, we have needed it this past week.

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