Friday, March 20, 2015

Frustrationville, U.S.A.

It was a two point game. Then it wasn't a game. Then it was all over.

I knew Georgia had its hands full when it drew Michigan State in the first round. I told anyone who would listen we had no chance. But I have a dirty little secret: I allow myself to believe.  When you're an Atlanta/UGA fan, you have no other recourse than belief.

In the NCAA Tournament, NFL Playoffs, NBA playoffs and MLB Playoffs, only one team wins its final game. This year marks two decades since that glorious October when that team was my team. In my lifetime of hopeless devotion to the Bulldogs, Braves, Falcons and Hawks, I've watched approximately 115,278 games. For all of that, I have one championship on which to hang my hat.

There was a time when Sports Illustrated branded Atlanta "Losersville, U.S.A" due to the collective futility of our sports teams. As recently as last year Atlanta was named "Most Miserable Sports City" by Forbes magazine. Both were unfair monikers because they failed to take into account the successes of local college teams. "Losersville, U.S.A." went away when the Braves became the "Team of the 90s", Evander Holyfield won the heavyweight title and the city was awarded the 1996 Olympic Games. I think a more accurate portrayal of being an Atlanta/UGA fan today would be "Frustrationville, U.S.A".

I inherited my love of these teams. If there is anyone who cares as much as I do about these teams, it's my Dad. I will never forget my first trip to Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium to watch the Braves. I've never done a drug in my life, but from that moment on baseball was my drug. If you read about addiction, the addict describes the euphoria of the "first high". That was me on my first trip to see the Braves. The addict also describes spending the rest of his or her life chasing that same feeling. That is what I have been doing ever since.

My Twitter followers know that today's UGA game reminded me of the legend of Sisyphus. In Greek mythology, King Sisyphus was punished for his misdeeds with a sentence of rolling a boulder up a hill for all eternity. In many ways, that is the daily life of an Atlanta/UGA fan. You get so close to the top, only to roll to the bottom again.

There were the Falcons of 1998, going to the Super Bowl only to go 5-11 the next season. There were those same Falcons in 2012, falling 10 yards shy of the Super Bowl before faceplanting to 10-22 over the next two seasons.

There were the Braves, going worst-to-first in the 1991 season that still goes down as the greatest sports experience of my life. They came tantalizingly close in '91 and '92 before flaming out in '93. Finally, they won it all in '95. The 20 years since have been more of watching that boulder roll down that hill.

There was UGA football, perhaps the greatest example of Frustrationville, U.S.A.  During my college career the Bulldogs suffered through, quite possibly, their worst four years of the last half century. Does the name Ray Goff mean anything to you? Finally, in 2001, we got it right with Mark Richt (whose last name actually translates to "right" in German). But we got shut out of possible national championships by the BCS in 2002 and 2007, then this year we (insert your own verb here)ed away our chances at the playoff with an inexplicable loss to Florida.

There was Georgia basketball. The hiring of Tubby Smith during my college career brought excitement to the program not seen before or since. Sweet 16 his first season. A number 3 seed his second season...and a massive upset loss to UT-Chattanooga in the first round of the NCAA Tournament. A few weeks later he was gone to Kentucky, the "only job I would leave UGA for" he said at the time. I'm guessing somewhere in Lubbock, Texas he wishes he could take that decision back. If he would have stayed, Stegeman Coliseum would now bear his name. Instead, he was never accepted at Kentucky, then went to Minnesota before UK could fire him...and now toils away at Texas Tech. Since he left we've hired four coaches. Two were dreadful (Google Ron Jirsa and Dennis Felton) and another got us in so much trouble with the NCAA that we became a punch
line on late night talk shows and are still trying to recover (see also: Jim Harrick). Now we have Mark Fox. I love Mark Fox. But after today the boulder is back at the bottom of the hill.

There were the Thrashers. Emphasis on were.

Now there are the Hawks. The Hawks were the forgotten stepchild of Atlanta/UGA fandom until about four months ago. Now they are the talk of the NBA. But I already know how this works out. I've seen this play too many times. There is zero chance this team will not disappoint me.

There is also zero chance I won't be there every step of the way, living and dying with every game. Atlanta sports fans get a bad rap because of the shortcomings of our teams. But I would argue TRUE Atlanta/UGA fans are the best in the business. We are eternal optimists. We always believe that each new season will erase the pains of the past. Only once in our entire lives have we been correct. But we keep coming back. We keep believing.

It's easy to be a Yankees fan, or a Steelers fan, or a Spurs fan, or an Alabama fan. It requires no work, no dedication, no perseverance. It's the sports equivalent of eating cake for breakfast. Being an Atlanta/UGA fan requires true faith. And when (okay, if) the championships come, they will mean so much more because of what we've gone through, lo these many years.

Maybe the Hawks will be that team. Maybe this June will bring a title to Frustrationville, U.S.A.

Maybe.

In the meantime, I have a boulder to roll.

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