|
|
By B.J. Bennett
SouthernPigskin.com Senior Editor
SouthernPigskin.com Senior Editor B.J. Bennett continues his original series of college football in the South, followed by Down Here VII. Follow us on Twitter at Twitter.com/SouthernPigskin
Down Here VI is the sixth installment of Bennett's continuing series on southern college football. Click to read Down Here I, Down Here II, Down Here III, Down Here IV, Down Here V or Down Here VI. Email Bennett your southern college football thoughts at .
Holidays like Veteran's Day really make us think. Maybe it's just for a day, maybe it's just for a few minutes. But we stop, consider how lucky we are, and we thank those who sacrifice themselves to preserve our freedom. Maybe we know someone who is in the military. Maybe we love someone who has served. Regardless of our tie or bond, or the special holiday experiences that may seem surreal, days like these help give us a new perspective. Even if it is just for a moment.
Though I've never enlisted and don't have the courage to do so, I've grown up in the military as my dad and bother are both currently in the National Guard. I spent my childhood at different army bases, various military functions and proudly wearing a high-and-tight buzz cut. I've traveled state to state and apparently nation to nation as well. I was born in Japan and, speaking of moments that seem surreal and days that give us new perspective, my mom recently told me I was conceived in the Pacific Rim. I never envisioned hearing tales about my conception (shutter), but that is a fitting transition into an introduction about my father.
Throughout my Down Here series I've talked about my family, a southern football-crazed collection of southern gentlemen, rednecks, jersey-wearing women and others caught somewhere in between. My dad is perhaps the most interesting of them all. He is a 6'2'' chest-bumper from Valdosta, Georgia. He's a man's man. He's unpredictable, sarcastic and random.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I just wanted to say that the peppermint milkshake at Chic-Fil-A is the great thing I've ever eaten," he said Tuesday night in front of a room of family and friends watching Monday Night football.
That night, one of my buddies was sitting between mom and dad on their couch.
"It's a good thing," dad acknowledged. "You know how your mom is. She would have her hands all over me."
Dad, like his father, is gruff and overbearing. Per military guidelines, his face may be clean cut, but his personality is anything but. He is the type of person who curses at the diner table, bribes the little children in the family to flick people off and tries to make us laugh during solemn moments in church. He acts this way, mind you, with a tucked in shirt and that typical military posture.
The military aside, dad is a mixture between a good ole' boy from the country and a polished politician. Fitting, considering his background. He doesn't hunt, but he says he does. He hasn't fished in years, but he will tell you the best creeks in the North Georgia Mountains. He can flip the switch from talking about garden vegetables in the local barber shop to speaking to a room full of legislators about the harms of pollution on spartina in the estuaries of Coastal Georgia.
He has two modes of transportation: a motorcycle and a restored 1983 Ford F-150. What's telling is they both sound about the same coming down the road.
Dad is a direct product of his dad, Col. James T. Bennett. My grandfather was one of the greatest men in the history of the Peach State. My opinion yes, but also the sentiments of many others. Popa was a State Representative from Lowndes County, a blue dog democrat who stood up for the little man and doubled as the area's most prominent attorney. To give you an understanding of where dad came from, here's a few stories about his old man. The tales read like a book.
As far as we know, popa is the only person in the history of the Georgia House of Representatives to knock out another legislator. A fellow politician called him a liar, so grandpa Bennett promptly asked him to take back the comment, then cleaned his clock after the initial statement was upheld. An accomplished attorney but a man who never looked or acted the part, popa once went to a car dealer in his work clothes and asked to look at a new Cadillac. The salesman responded by saying the meager-looking man ought to view some of the models more likely in his price range. Pops promptly went down the street to another dealer and bought his Cadillac. And paid for it in cash. He was once robbed at knife-point on the streets of Atlanta, only to pull out a pistol. The first time he met my wife, he audibly stated "...she's really pretty," only to follow with, "...bet she's a real pain in the ass". My then girlfriend was standing right with me.
James T. Bennett was a crude, honest, funny heck of a man who was one of the most genuine people I have ever known. Dad used to joke that popa invented two words: "Slapthehelloutcha" and "Shutthehellup". You have to have heard the near 300-pound former politician grunt the phrase with his deep southern drawl to appreciate it. He served in World War II, and paid his debt to society via public service. A brute, sometimes stubborn man, he made many mistakes in his life and he readily admitted them. My dad was not one of them.
Dad is a good man, a war hero who earned a Bronze Star during service in Iraq. He won't like me saying that, but as long as I can avoid him...I'll leave it up. That's the ultimate helmet sticker. After telling about his dad, let me tell you more about mine. I'm the type of son who, even at 25, is still intimidated by their father. Remember the "my dad can beat up your dad" smack from grade school? I stand by my words.
Before his military career, dad was the product of a private school education and a college soccer player who, like many in college, acted a little crazy at times. I don't know why and I don't ask why, but dad was apparently one of the culprits who got the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity banned from the Valdosta State campus.
“I got more parking tickets than grades when I was there,” he said.
A track star in high school, he once beat Herschel Walker in the 100-yard dash. He lets that simmer for a while, then adds that Herschel had just run three heats prior to their race.
After dabbling in college, he turned down law school, a family tradition of sorts, and joined the military. His exploits have sent him all over the globe; he counts nation's he has visited like fans tally the stadiums they've been to. Dad's a world traveler and he has a very poignant perspective on what he has experienced. He has been quoted in national newspapers and interviewed on cable television regarding military procedure and strategy. Looking at him pull in the drive on his motorcycle wearing black chaps, cheap Wal-Mart sunglasses and helmet with a sticker reading "Old Guys Rule" you wouldn't think he has an international perspective. A southern boy raised in the woods of Deep South Georgia, and a man who loves to bask in the stereotypes that come with that distinction, he sometimes hesitates to share his intellect. Deep down, however, there is a college-educated military officer with a well-rounded view of the world.
In my previous Down Here column I detailed my mom's passionate football past. My dad, ironically enough, can't match my mother's enthusiasm, but he is most definitely a fan. Though I was born overseas, my first picture was taken in a ratty t-shirt of my dad's favorite team. Dad was once dated former Georgia national championship quarterback Buck Bellue's sister. Dad is a different type of football fan. He is frustratingly logical. He doesn't get into the hype. He doesn't paint his face. He doesn't even watch full games.
"I only watch the fourth quarter," he will say. "It's the only part of the game that matters."
My mom, brother and I will make fun of him for not being a real fan, but I think all of us, alone in our rooms, think "...heck, he might be right".
Dad probably follows football the way we all should. He loves to talk about the game, and he knows his stuff, but he doesn't let it ruin his day. My brother and I will pester him sometimes when he doesn't react with the same fervor we do. He'll take it for a while, ignoring us in stride. If we persist, however, his face will get real serious and we can tell he's about to talk about how what he has seen has shown him what's important.
Dad has served in the armed forces for 30+ years. He has more medals than we can count. More mettle, too. He has done two full tours of duty overseas. While he has there, football was a very real connection to home for him. While he was deployed, we often talked football, our favorite college teams along with the Atlanta Falcons and Jacksonville Jaguars. We actually sent him a few autographs from his favorite team while he was overseas. The poster stayed on his wall in his room. Down here, fans never leave their team. Even when they are out of the country. Dad talks fondly of the day a few former NFL players visited he and his peers in Iraq. One of his favorites from that day was Christian Okoye, the former Kansas City Chiefs star known as the “Nigerian Nightmare”.
Dad's most famous football moment came a few years ago when our favorite team finished off an improbable come from behind victory with a last minute touchdown. While the rest of the family stumbled all over the house, screaming and cheering, dad sat still on the couch.
"Holy s***," he said in a very calm voice.
The sequence stopped my brother and I in our tracks. While jubilation was around him, dad barely moved, barely spoke. A sometimes obnoxious man of many words, it was ironic that one of our funniest sports memories of dad is of him uttering two words.
Dad loves football. But he understands it's place. Days like Veteran's Day help me acknowledge that point. Dad loves going to games, he has taken my brother and I to more games than I can remember, and he wears his team gear around town. But to him a touchdown recalls being dropped out of a helicopter; safety isn't worth just two points.
As we prepare ourselves for another huge football weekend, let's take a second to appreciate who should be our real heroes in uniform. Our armed servicemen and women don't ask for much. The least we can do is keep them in our thoughts this Wednesday.
I will always love college football and will follow the game with an irrational, lose-my-mind intensity. Despite my years in the media, I'll probably still always get a bit nervous when I talk with Urban Meyer, Nick Saban or Frank Beamer. But people like my dad and days like Veteran's Day can help us all keep this game in perspective.
.....
Share your thoughts on the SouthernPigskin.com Message Boards or email us at . Follow SouthernPigskin.com on Twitter at Twitter.com/SouthernPigskin
|
Comments
Make Yourself Heard
|
|
