ATHENS - At approximately 3 p.m. Monday in Athens, Uga VI, the latest in the long and illustrious line of University of Georgia mascots, was laid to rest amongst his forefathers in Sanford Stadium's mascot mausoleum.
The English bulldog died Friday night of heart failure a few weeks shy of his 10th birthday.
The top dog's - or dawg's - death unleashed an outpouring of emotion and reflection amongst Georgia fans that both amazed and, quite possibly, frightened anyone not from the southeast.
"After all, it was just a dog," countless callers to Atlanta-area sports talk stations chirped on Monday. From the accents of said callers, it was safe to assume that nearly all of them emanated from outside Southeastern Conference territory.
Yes, it was a dog. But what Uga VI - and his forebears, and heirs for that matter - means to Georgia fans encapsulates much more than just a lovable mascot rolling in the grass or lunging at an opposing team's players in the end zone.
Uga is viewed as the living embodiment of the University's athletic program.
I won't deign to give a history lesson here. The lineage and history of the Uga's is too long for this column. Suffice it to say, that each Uga buried in the mausoleum at Sanford - the only mascots to be buried inside such a venue in all of college athletics - bears the overall record of the football teams he championed, as if the dog himself had something to do with the team's performance.
And while no Georgia fan actually believes that the dogs themselves control the destiny of the football program, it is certain that each Uga's "record" is remembered as fondly as the teams he watched from his dog house in the northeast corner of the Sanford end zone.
It is a tradition that began in 1956 and even non-SEC fans - to whom this kind of celebration seems so foreign - should understand fully, and thus respect, the weight of traditions and superstitions in sports.
Ask Boston Red Sox and New York Yankee fans what the "Curse of the Bambino" means in their storied rivalry. Ask Chicago Cubs fans about the "Curse of the Billy Goat."
For that matter, can you imagine the Indianapolis 500 winner drinking anything but milk or the Kentucky Derby commencing without a rendition of "My Old Kentucky Home?"
That's what Uga means to Georgia fans. He is part of the fabric of the University, even more so than gridiron legends like Vince Dooley, Herschel Walker and David Pollack - for while they each left a larger-than-life legacy in Athens, only Uga, in whatever incarnation, will be at every Georgia football game into infinity.
Incidentally, Uga VI's death struck a personal chord with me, as I was present for his coronation before a game against South Carolina in 1999, and even though I followed Georgia through two other Uga's: IV and V, I never had the chance to attend as many games under their tenures.
Uga VI was my mascot, so to speak. The one I saw every fall weekend, the one that wouldn't let my poor wife pet him - after a long day of suffering the rough head-pats from 5-year-olds some years ago, he let out a growl that caused his owner to close his crate just as my wife was next in line. He was also the dog that friends of mine, visiting from Holland, made a special point to get a picture with - I'm not even sure they knew there was a game going that day.
And, yes, there is his game day record to remember, 87-27 - besting any of the previous Uga's - and two SEC titles.
He left a large collar for Uga VII to fill.
Thursday
October 24th, 2024
10:25PM
