Two Bits

It is 7:06pm and I am sitting in my apartment watching ESPN. There is a man on TV wearing a yellow button-down shirt, khakis, and an orange and blue tie. His name is George Edmundson, but he is known to me and a few others as Mr. Two Bits. Ya’ll, I’m in my apartment watching a man command a crowd of what I am sure is 80,000 plus into a cheer just by waving his hands. And ya’ll, I’m getting misty. I’m yelling along with him, though not quite as loudly as the people there due to my neighbors.

I hear the Gator fight song, and can hum along every single word, and know when and where to clap. I help the crowd and the band with the clap to welcome the team through the tunnel. Because I’m at home, I get to watch Billy Donovan introduce the starting line, and he’s about the only yankee whose accent I enjoy. It’s a night game, and it’s hotter than hell in Florida. People are sweating and it just looks glorious to me.

I can’t even tell you how excited this girl gets looking at Florida Field. When I was in ninth grade, we moved out to Florida, and we stopped at the UF and FSU campuses. FSU wasn’t anything memorable, except that the whole town of Tallahassee stinks because of a paper mill or something. But Florida, that was memorable. My dad and I went to Ben Hill Griffin Stadium, and decide to walk around. Lots of people were working out and hanging out at the field. So, we went in and walked around and got stuck in a stair well and for a moment I thought I would have to go to that school because I would be eighteen before we ever got out of there.

We did, and the University of Florida was the only school I applied to. And I’m sure as hell glad they let me in. There’s just a camaraderie that we all have. I know of every Gator fan and rival at my little elementary school, and I’ve had a parent request me as their child’s teacher solely based on the fact that I’m a Gator.

As the game progresses, I’ll get louder and happier and grumpier, and somewhere between the third and fourth quarters, I’ll lead the dogs in a rousing chorus of “We are the boys of old Florida. F-L-O-R-I-D-A…”
P.S. The fourth quarter penalty against Auburn that was OBVIOUSLY a bad penalty call just made me sick. I would rather lose a clean game than win on a questionable penalty.