GamecockCentral.com columnist Scott Davis, who has followed USC sports for more than 30 years, provides commentary from the perspective of a Gamecocks fan. You can follow Scott on Twitter at @scdonfire.
I woke up to a shot of a fighter jet idling on a runway.
I’d fallen asleep on the couch watching the late college football games after a long day in Athens, and when I opened my eyes Sunday morning, I saw a familiar, comforting sight.
Top Gun was playing on my TV – the movie I’d loved as a kid growing up in the ‘80s, back when Tom Cruise was still sane, back when we all mourned the death of Goose and cheered the ultimate triumph of the cocky, irrepressible Maverick, back when we used to spout quotes like “I feel the need for speed!!!” to each other and weren’t embarrassed about it.
Like most kids who saw the movie for the first time, I rushed out of the theater (the late, great Bijou Cinemas on Greenville’s Wade Hampton Boulevard) and was so jacked up on adrenaline and Coca-Cola that I played video games with violent ferocity for an hour.
But when I woke up on Sunday, the movie was just starting, Maverick and Goose hadn’t transformed into m_________g Maverick and Goose yet, and I was looking at a plane sitting on a runway, waiting to get into the air and go somewhere really interesting.
Which, in the gray light of morning, seemed to me the perfect metaphor for where South Carolina’s football program is right this minute in Year Two under coach Will Muschamp.
You feel like something exciting is getting ready to happen. You believe in everybody involved, just like you believed in Mav and Goose. You see the potential for excellence and it gives you a stirring thrill inside.
Now we’re just waiting for liftoff.
And liftoff never quite came Saturday in Athens against the No. 1-ranked Georgia Bulldogs, despite the Gamecocks scratching, clawing, battling and still being mathematically alive in the closing minutes of the fourth quarter. Even though South Carolina covered the spread and looked downright respectable doing so, they never could get the plane in the air against a suffocating Bulldog defense and a lethal Georgia running game that gives me the shakes when I think about it for too long.
Saturday, I made my landmark 10th visit to Athens for a football game. I skip the Clemson game often and will happily do so many times in the future, but for whatever reason, I’ve always wanted to be in the stadium when Gamecocks-Bulldogs goes down. I’ve seen the Gamecocks win in Athens. I’ve seen them get annihilated in Athens. I’ve seen them coached by Sparky Woods in Athens.
This time, I watched them lose by two touchdowns and somehow came away from the game encouraged and thinking the South Carolina program was further along under Muschamp than I’d realized. Hey, no one ever said being a fan was a rational thing.
For Gamecock fans, the Georgia game has always represented some sort of Cliff’s Notes summation for the season as a whole. If the Dawgs blow us out, it probably means you want to forget the entire season happened. If you win the game, special things usually ensue. If you’re competitive and hang around and lose anyway…well, who knows?
This time felt different. Every Carolina fan I talked to before the game was saying the same thing: “Just keep it close. Don’t get embarrassed. Winning’s out of the question, so just get through this thing without the bottom falling out.” I’d never heard that before. No matter how bad USC football is going, Gamecock fans always seem to talk themselves into the possibility of beating Georgia.
Not in 2017. Not even though we entered the contest at 6-2 and with a 4-2 SEC record. Absolutely no one believed.
Still, we were competitive. We most definitely hung around, and did so between the hedges. And considering that the Bulldogs are the No. 1 team in the land and that they’ve utterly dismantled, humiliated and soul-crushed just about everyone they’ve played this season, it felt strangely satisfying, if not entirely enjoyable (kind of like a bad cup of coffee may not taste great, but still gives you a mild jolt of energy).
No, it wasn’t a moral victory.
First of all, there’s no such thing as a moral victory in SEC football.
Second of all, even if there was such a thing, you can’t claim one any time you lose by two touchdowns.
Third of all, there’s no such thing as a moral victory in SEC football.
But none of that matters.
What does matter is this: The plane is on the runway. We can all see it sitting there.
It’s been stocked with a pilot we believe in. We trust the guys in the tower to put it in flight.
We know it’s going to fly, and when it does, it will be capable of inflicting pain on all of our enemies. We know it.
Now we’re just waiting for liftoff.
The Deebo Samuel Large Pepperoni Pizza Game Balls of the Week
When my team goes on the road with three of its five best players sidelined for the season with injuries to play the No. 1 team in the country and hangs around into the fourth quarter, I typically have a Deebo Samuel or two to hand out, which go to the following:
Hayden Hurst and Bryan Edwards – With 14 catches between them and the running game going nowhere, Hurst and Edwards essentially comprised the entirety of the South Carolina offense on Saturday. Hurst has quietly put together yet another strong season statistically, and yet Gamecock fans still seemed to be waiting for an outburst from him this year. It happened Saturday. The burly tight end made life very difficult for a stingy Georgia defense that to this point had allowed absolutely no one to work them over. Meanwhile, Edwards caught just about every ball thrown his way, including a few he had no business catching. I’m glad Edwards will still be in a Gamecock uniform in 2018, but if there’s a way to extend Hurst’s eligibility into the 2020’s, let’s figure that out immediately.
Skai Moore – Where would this Gamecock defense be without Skai Moore? The senior linebacker led the team yet again with 10 tackles, and as usual, he seemed to always be in the vicinity of the football. South Carolina has some excellent young players on defense, and you know Muschamp and T-Rob are always going to keep that unit competitive, but they’re going to really miss Moore when he’s gone. So will I.
The Spectacular Tailgate I Attended Before the Game – My wife and I had the pleasure of tailgating before the game with our friend, Summer Peters Lathem – a lifelong Bulldog fan. Summer’s dad, Ray, throws a tailgate each week in Athens that can accurately be described as “epic,” and this was my first chance to attend it. After witnessing it in person, I can definitely say this: I shall return. There was enough food to feed both football teams and their families. The music was bumping. The vibe was warm and welcoming. Dawg fans and Gamecock fans coexisted in perfect harmony. I found myself looking around at the falling, yellow leaves on a spectacular day in Athens and thinking, “My God, I love college football.” Then, inevitably, I started thinking about how lackluster my own tailgates have been in recent years by comparison. This led to some soul-searching on Saturday night. I need to get back into the woodshed and figure out where I’ve gone wrong the last couple of seasons. I really used to be talented at tailgating. Really.
My Astonishing Ability to Wander Undetected at Away Games Without Ever Causing Commotion Amongst the Home Fans – I typically behave terribly at Williams-Brice Stadium. I embarrass myself at home watching the games on television. Few who know me enjoy watching South Carolina football games with me. And yet when I’m on the road, I somehow am able to summon a strange nobility and actually act like a normal human being for a couple of hours. I don’t know how this happens, but I always wind up sitting among the home faithful when I watch the Gamecocks in opposing stadiums, far from the comforts of the USC visitor’s section. I’ve sat with bloodthirsty Tigers at LSU. I’ve been War Eagle’d into oblivion at Auburn. And Saturday, I found myself in the stark-raving middle of Georgia season ticket holders in the lower deck of Sanford Stadium. Where I inexplicably proceeded to act like a quiet, unassuming gentleman for four quarters. I doubt anyone around me even knew I was pulling for South Carolina. I wore a garnet-ish checked Banana Republic shirt, which was the closest thing pointing towards Gamecock fanhood for me. Otherwise, I could have been pulling for tailgating, barbecue, puppies, country music or any of the other good things in life. Can anyone explain why I’m a despicably awful fan at home and yet the absolute epitome of a mannered Southern gentleman on the road? I can’t.
My Wife for Suggesting Georgia’s Entrance Leaves Something to Be Desired, Which is Something I’ve Said for Years Now – Of all the crazy things I’ve ever written in this column (and there have been a lot), none have drawn more angry comments than I got from Dawg fans several years ago when I teased them for having a boring entrance into the stadium. “But what about the lone trumpeter in the upper deck??!!!” they gasped. “What about the videos on the big screen????” Yeah. It just doesn’t do it for me, guys. Sorry. Ultimately, the Dawgs just kind of walk out of the tunnel with some smoke as the announcer screams “Here come your Georgia Bulldogs!!!!” There’s a stunning lack of fanfare for a big-time SEC program. I was watching my team play the No. 1 team in the nation and was sitting amongst Georgia die-hards, and I just didn’t feel that queasy, intimidated feeling that I feel in Knoxville when I see the marching “T,” or that I feel in Auburn when I see that eagle soaring down from the upper deck and I want to run and hide in a dark place. Even Clemson’s bizarre fetish for rubbing rocks demands my respect.
After Dawg fans went insane on me for making that comment, I thought maybe I was just missing something, but my wife had never attended a game in Athens, and she turned to me after the Bulldogs came out and said, “Is that it? Really?” Yep, that’s it.
Look, there’s tradition galore at Georgia. UGA is the greatest mascot of all time and always will be. The Hedges are all kinds of legendary. There’s a dark intensity amongst the fans there that outranks every other fan base in America except for LSU.
But the entrance doesn’t do the program justice. That’s all I’m saying.
Still, we have one of the best entrances in the game and it hasn’t helped us escape a century of mediocrity, so who cares about entrances? If I were a Georgia fan and my team was 9-0 and ranked No. 1 in the country, I know I wouldn’t.
My Wife for Saying “When Did Every College Girl Start Attending Games Dressed Like Hookers?” – I laughed out loud. She kept the mood light on Saturday.
Deflated Balls
No matter who you’re playing or where you’re playing, you can’t lose a football game by two touchdowns without picking up a few Deflated Balls, which I’ll give to:
Being Unable to Run the Ball or Stop the Run – The story was written on the ground Saturday, where the Gamecock offense found positive yardage hard to come by. Meanwhile, Georgia’s Nick Chubb and Sony Michel did what they’ve been doing for what seems like decades now (seriously, have those guys been eligible since 1994 or is it just me?) I walked out the stadium thinking the USC defense had done about as well as it’s possible to do in containing the otherworldly Chubb, only to glance at the stat sheet and learn that he’d still rushed for more than 100 yards. I can’t wait to see those two guys wearing NFL uniforms.
Forcing Dawg QB Jake Fromm to Throw for the First Time in 2017, Then Watching Him Complete 16 Passes With Relative Ease – Georgia’s all-everything freshman quarterback Fromm had barely thrown the football coming into the game. With Chubb and Michel in the backfield, he hadn’t needed to. So the Gamecocks loaded the box and dared the youngster to make plays with his arm, since no one had ever actually seen him do so before. Inevitably, Fromm did a reasonable Peyton Manning impersonation for four quarters, making tough throws into tight windows and generally looking like a guy that I wish didn’t have three more years of eligibility left.
Me Trying to Be Despondent About the Game Sunday Morning and Being Incapable of Doing It – I woke up Sunday morning and shuffled over to the coffee pot, then did what I think we all do the morning after a disappointing event: I put a gigantic pot of Geechie Boy grits on the stove and planned to drown my sorrows in them (plus eggs, bacon and just for the hell of it, sausage). I can make an absurdly large Southern breakfast with the best of them – you simply come out of the womb with these skills when you’re from Greenville. I thought I was doing it to comfort my wounded spirit, but as I shoveled grits into my mouth, I realized that I just wasn’t devastated about the loss, no matter how hard I tried to be.
That’s because we’re 6-3.
There are still three games left in this regular season.
There is still time to get this plane in the air, this year and not later.
There’s still time.
The plane’s on the runway. The pilot is ready and the tower is giving the signal.
Do you feel the need for speed? I do.
Let’s fly this baby.
