Sometimes I hate it when I’m right about my hunches. I felt that we COULD win. I felt that we WOULD play well. I felt that we SHOULD’VE had almost every advantage playing at home. But I THOUGHT we would still find a way to lose. And truth be told, I hate that it happened. Especially late in the fourth quarter, when I started to feel that rush of winning come over me. Then came the worst. And I sat there, in Section 115 staring out into the nothing-ness that was previously one of the best games I’ve ever seen in Sanford that UGA did not win. Kind of like this:
Except in our case, our native American, purple buffalo hunting, man children lost. G’mork and the Visor got lucky enough breaks to sink their teeth into us one last time.
As funny as it sounds, G’mork’s little speech here has direct parralels with our fan base’s feeling right now.
The way I see it, maybe Mark Richt can find a
shard of rock Crowell and Murray and kill that son-of-a-bitch. But, I’ve been wrong before.
I do want it to be clear, I was really impressed the way the guys stayed in the game, even with their backs against the wall. That brings some hope. I was very proud of that.
– Inspector G