I’m often told how much I favor my mom, and I’ll never get tired of hearing it. She is truly the most beautiful human I know, the embodiment of a Proverbs 31 woman in every sense of the word — worth far more than rubies to all those who are blessed to know her. 

When I imagine how I hope my daughter will remember me when she’s older, I hope it’s for all the same reasons I remember mine — a virtuous wife, a voice for the underdog, the fixer of all boo-boos. For me, she’s defined the meaning of compassion, forgiveness, strength and resilience. She taught me to take a mental health day when I need it, to keep things in perspective, to love animals and laugh often. She’s my best friend, my teacher in the art of being a lady.

But my dad — my dad taught me football.

Of course, there are plenty of other noble qualities I’ve learned from watching him — the benefit of a strong work ethic, the importance of keeping your word, the value of tithing to the church. He’s honest, generous, dedicated, and the life of every party. (He’s also no slave to fashion and makes the best boiled peanuts this side of the gnat line.)

I’d be willing to bet, though, that if you asked just about anyone who knows him — a whole lot of people fall into that category — to describe my dad, “Dawg lover” would be near the top of every one of their answers. While football is his favorite UGA sport, he’s a loyal, equal-opportunity fan of all Dawgs — basketball, gymnastics, softball, baseball, track and field, soccer and swimming included.

My dad grew up on Peabody Street in Athens, a Leave It to Beaver–like childhood set just a stone’s throw away from Brumby Hall, the dorm where I spent my freshman year. He earned his degree in forestry, a few decades before I earned mine in journalism, so by the time I had enrolled at the University of Georgia as a freshman in 2004, I had perfected my Dawg bark. Sitting in the nosebleed section at Sanford Stadium on that hot August day, my first-ever game as a student — UGA vs. Georgia Southern, believe it or not — I knew all the cheers and chants, the players and their positions, the classic Larry Munson calls and the proper way to call the Dawgs.

(Side note: If you’re thinking about scolding me for my loyalties, save it. I have Boro blood running through my veins, and as an original Statesboro-ian, I am so proud of everything this town has to offer. I’m proud we have our own Allman Brothers song and were responsible for introducing the world to the greatness of Zaxby’s, but most of all, I’m proud we are home to those Georgia Southern Eagles. I joint enrolled at GS as a senior in high school, and I loved my time on campus. However, after high school graduation, I wanted to leave home and prove to myself I could make it outside of my comfort zone — and I did, and I loved that time of my life, too. Eventually I decided that there really is no place like home, so I tapped my fabulous red [and black] heels together three times and ended up back in the Boro.)

Everything I know about football, I learned from my dad. From a very young age, he nurtured in me a love for the game, and some of my fondest memories with him include pigskin and goalposts.

So even before my time in Athens, as a proud Statesboro High School Blue Devil in the early 2000s, I was fully prepared to cheer on my boys in blue as they made a historic run, with five state championship appearances and one state title in just six years. In that span, 1999–2005, Statesboro’s overall record was 76-9-1.

In my freshman year, the Blue Devils advanced to the Class AAAA state championship for the first time in more than 30 years, and as a sophomore, I watched them win it all in front of a packed house at Womack Field. They went on to play in the state championship in three of the next four seasons, winning it again the year after I graduated.

Those were the days of coaches Howard “Buzz” Busby, Steven Pennington, Kenny Tucker, Jack Webb and Mike Yawn, leading a talented roster packed with names including Jimtavis Walker, Delandry Tanner, Jeremy Mincey, Chester McBride, Nick Wedlow, Josh Thompson, Tommy Watkins, Jon Knox, Deangelo Tyson and Justin Houston, many of whom would go on to play at the college and even pro level. I’ll never forget how much fun it was to watch them play ball, what an absolute privilege it was to quite literally see history being made, a dynasty being built. 

I hope this football season brings unforgettable moments for you, too — moments just like those, the ones that always give you chill bumps and a proud lump in your throat, even 20 years later.