As you might expect, my column this morning didn’t play real well in the Sunshine State.
Jeff answered back with the following e-mail:
Dear Gator Haters…
I was born in Florida, as was my father before me (b. 1927). My mom’s from Nashville; by your reckoning, that should mean I’m a full-blooded southerner. My uncle attended UF in the ’50s, as later did my brother and I (in the ’80s, when if we weren’t a laughing stock on the gridiron, we were getting SEC Championships stripped for cheating). But darnit, I don’t sound Southern (anybody who knows diddly about Florida knows there ain’t a drawl to be heard south of the I-4 corridor).
But know this, Gainesville is as “southern” as any other town south of the Mason-Dixon line. And we certainly make no apologies for winning. Bama wants to win? Should have won over Meyer first instead of monkeying with that southern boy, Shula (wait, he’s from Maryland). Georgia wants a better QB? Should have recruited Tebow. Heck, he’s from just outside Jacksonville – that’s about as Southern as you can get.
Lookyhere, everyone starts with the same shovel in the same raw earth when birthing a football program (ours happened to first turn dirt in 1930, 24 years after we first fielded a team – not exactly spring chickens here, wouldn’tyasay?). Where you go from there is up to you (actually, your Athletic Director, who wins the hearts and minds of a coach like Meyer, who then recruits better than the competition).
So hate my school, loathe my coach (uncharismatic as he may be), mock me for not having a drawl (that’ll be a first), even curse at me while I proudly wear my colors (trust me, I’ll be in ‘em, regardless of whether we’re 12-1 or 1-12). While you were Gator hating, we were putting that shovel back in the ground again to build a shrine to our three crystal footballs.
