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We just emailed the very first Scott Davis newsletter.
If you didn't receive it and want to each week, go to this page. (Please note we're trying to customize which emails you receive, so you only get the info you want.)
Scott's regular columns will still appear on this site each Monday during football season.
Here is a copy of Scott's first email newsletter.
Georgia On My Mind
By Scott Davis, GamecockCentral.com columnist
I attended my first South Carolina-Georgia football game on an occasion that also doubled as USC’s first football game ever as a member of the Southeastern Conference.
It was September 1992.
I was a student at Carolina, and made the odd decision to wear a “You Can’t Lick Our Cocks!” shirt that I had purchased just days before at the SC bookstore on campus. Hey, I’ve always had a touch of Obnoxious Fan running through my bloodstream.
The Gamecocks actually led at halftime (albeit by the slender score of 6-0) before eventually getting run out of the building along the way to an 0-5 start that included such fun stuff as multiple quarterback changes, a player-led “walkout” to protest the continued employment of head coach Sparky Woods, an absolute shelling at the hands of eventual national champion Alabama, and the decision to roll the dice at QB with a true freshman named Steve Taneyhill.
I’d attended an SEC football game before (ironically in Athens when I visited UGA’s campus as a high school senior and briefly flirted with the idea of attending the school), but I realized quickly that Williams-Brice Stadium just felt different when the Gamecocks and Bulldogs played. Playing in the SEC was an absolute galaxy away from laboring along as an independent and doing battle with the likes of Pittsburgh and N.C. State.
Dog fans crowded the Fairgrounds. There was a dark, angry feeling to the proceedings, as though a riot might break out at any time. Fights broke out in the student section. I even screamed at a few Georgia fans a couple of rows away from me, and we all know that I’m a man of peace and harmony.
It was clear that what we’d been doing before this game was now as ancient as the Roman Empire under Nero. We were in the SEC now, and there was no better team or fan base to inaugurate our passage into the league than Georgia.
The silver britches, a snarling UGA roaming the sidelines, the fans in those ludicrous bright red slacks – it was the real thing.
I was hooked.
I realized immediately that whatever I’d been watching in the years before hadn’t really been college football. It had been immensely enjoyable, and I’d never forget it…but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t the SEC.
Maybe because the UGA game was my first real taste of an SEC game in which I had personal stakes, I quietly embarked upon what would eventually become an obsession. From ’92 all the way through 2007, I attended every South Carolina-Georgia football game, home and away. I saw the Gamecocks win the very next year in Athens as Brandon Bennett (a high school classmate of the woman who would one day become wife) rolled into the end zone as time expired and I inexplicably dropped my shorts at the stunned crowd to reveal a pair of Gamecock boxers. I was in Athens when Brian Scott caught a touchdown pass with the clock ticking towards zero to secure a signature win in the Lou Holtz Era.
And yes, I’ve seen blowouts, agonizing losses, offensive and defensive ineptitude and everything in between, both in Columbia and Athens.
I was back in Sanford Stadium a year ago during the Bulldogs’ march to the national title game, and I’ll be in Williams-Brice Stadium on Saturday. I have no problem skipping Clemson games, or Florida games, or any game.
But for whatever reason, when these two get together, I want to be there.
I don’t know if the Gamecocks can win this game. Just today, I was listening to sports radio here in Atlanta as an announcer noted that “every single matchup along both lines of scrimmage favors the Bulldogs.” Gosh, why would I even bother with this thing, right?
Well, it’s South Carolina-Georgia, and I attend that football game.
And because every single Georgia player, coach and fan that I’ve ever heard asked about it has said that they hate playing in Williams-Brice Stadium because it always feels a little nasty, a little ugly, and maybe – just maybe – a little scary.
Oh yeah, I’ll be there. And I’ll be scary.
Fan Follies
I poked fun at Gamecock fans in my most recent column after the Coastal Carolina game for losing their minds about the “Script Carolina” helmets that USC wore last Saturday. I enjoy making fun of fans who get sidetracked by meaningless things, and I’ll continue to do it for as long as I exist on this earth. But let me try to explain where I’m coming from.
I don’t mind fans having an opinion about things like uniforms or the band or the announcers.
I have opinions about those things, too – quite a few of them, in fact.
I often voice them in my columns (see the 10,000 times I’ve made fun of announcers over the years).
Opinions are awesome. Without them, college football wouldn’t be as addictive as it is. That’s why the sport is so great – we actually care about things like how a team enters the stadium or whether their mascot is cool. That doesn’t happen in any other sport.
What befuddles me is when fans actually seem to let stuff like this genuinely affect their enjoyment of the game and the team.
I’ll give you an example. Strictly from an aesthetic/looks standpoint, I’m not crazy about the camouflage uniforms the Gamecocks have worn a couple of times in recent years. I love the cause and why they do it and I appreciate everything about it, but they just don’t look like what a South Carolina football team looks like in my mind when they wear them.
So when I see the team trot out on the field with them on, I briefly think, “Huh, those aren’t my favorite.” Then I never think about it again and root like crazy for my team.
I don’t call into sports talk shows and lose my mind, or rant on message boards. At the end of the day, it just isn’t that big of a deal to me.
I also don’t go the other way with it and drop that old cliché “I don’t care if the Gamecocks wear pink tutus on the field as long as they win.” Because I don’t want them to wear pink tutus, either.
My favorite uniforms are still the ones the team wore when I was a kid in the 1980s, purely from a nostalgia standpoint. There have been roughly 70,000 uniform combos since then, and I’ve liked some, been indifferent to some and outright disliked a handful. But none of them have affected my enjoyment of any given game.
Still, one thing I’ve always said (and always will) is that there’s no “right” or “wrong” way to be a sports fan. If color schemes and logo designs are your most important issues as a Gamecock fan, I’m not going to tell you to stop obsessing about them. Do your thing, for God’s sake. I might not get it, but I’m certainly not the arbiter of how you should go about enjoying football.
As long as you don’t Tweet mean things to high school athletes who are trying to decide where to attend college, or threaten a coach’s life, or drop your pants in a stadium to reveal a pair of Gamecock boxers to opposing fans, you’ll be fine out there.
Scattered, Smothered and Covered
Random thoughts from a nervous Gamecock fan anxiously awaiting Saturday…
If you didn't receive it and want to each week, go to this page. (Please note we're trying to customize which emails you receive, so you only get the info you want.)
Scott's regular columns will still appear on this site each Monday during football season.
Here is a copy of Scott's first email newsletter.
Georgia On My Mind
By Scott Davis, GamecockCentral.com columnist
I attended my first South Carolina-Georgia football game on an occasion that also doubled as USC’s first football game ever as a member of the Southeastern Conference.
It was September 1992.
I was a student at Carolina, and made the odd decision to wear a “You Can’t Lick Our Cocks!” shirt that I had purchased just days before at the SC bookstore on campus. Hey, I’ve always had a touch of Obnoxious Fan running through my bloodstream.
The Gamecocks actually led at halftime (albeit by the slender score of 6-0) before eventually getting run out of the building along the way to an 0-5 start that included such fun stuff as multiple quarterback changes, a player-led “walkout” to protest the continued employment of head coach Sparky Woods, an absolute shelling at the hands of eventual national champion Alabama, and the decision to roll the dice at QB with a true freshman named Steve Taneyhill.
I’d attended an SEC football game before (ironically in Athens when I visited UGA’s campus as a high school senior and briefly flirted with the idea of attending the school), but I realized quickly that Williams-Brice Stadium just felt different when the Gamecocks and Bulldogs played. Playing in the SEC was an absolute galaxy away from laboring along as an independent and doing battle with the likes of Pittsburgh and N.C. State.
Dog fans crowded the Fairgrounds. There was a dark, angry feeling to the proceedings, as though a riot might break out at any time. Fights broke out in the student section. I even screamed at a few Georgia fans a couple of rows away from me, and we all know that I’m a man of peace and harmony.
It was clear that what we’d been doing before this game was now as ancient as the Roman Empire under Nero. We were in the SEC now, and there was no better team or fan base to inaugurate our passage into the league than Georgia.
The silver britches, a snarling UGA roaming the sidelines, the fans in those ludicrous bright red slacks – it was the real thing.
I was hooked.
I realized immediately that whatever I’d been watching in the years before hadn’t really been college football. It had been immensely enjoyable, and I’d never forget it…but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t the SEC.
Maybe because the UGA game was my first real taste of an SEC game in which I had personal stakes, I quietly embarked upon what would eventually become an obsession. From ’92 all the way through 2007, I attended every South Carolina-Georgia football game, home and away. I saw the Gamecocks win the very next year in Athens as Brandon Bennett (a high school classmate of the woman who would one day become wife) rolled into the end zone as time expired and I inexplicably dropped my shorts at the stunned crowd to reveal a pair of Gamecock boxers. I was in Athens when Brian Scott caught a touchdown pass with the clock ticking towards zero to secure a signature win in the Lou Holtz Era.
And yes, I’ve seen blowouts, agonizing losses, offensive and defensive ineptitude and everything in between, both in Columbia and Athens.
I was back in Sanford Stadium a year ago during the Bulldogs’ march to the national title game, and I’ll be in Williams-Brice Stadium on Saturday. I have no problem skipping Clemson games, or Florida games, or any game.
But for whatever reason, when these two get together, I want to be there.
I don’t know if the Gamecocks can win this game. Just today, I was listening to sports radio here in Atlanta as an announcer noted that “every single matchup along both lines of scrimmage favors the Bulldogs.” Gosh, why would I even bother with this thing, right?
Well, it’s South Carolina-Georgia, and I attend that football game.
And because every single Georgia player, coach and fan that I’ve ever heard asked about it has said that they hate playing in Williams-Brice Stadium because it always feels a little nasty, a little ugly, and maybe – just maybe – a little scary.
Oh yeah, I’ll be there. And I’ll be scary.
Fan Follies
I poked fun at Gamecock fans in my most recent column after the Coastal Carolina game for losing their minds about the “Script Carolina” helmets that USC wore last Saturday. I enjoy making fun of fans who get sidetracked by meaningless things, and I’ll continue to do it for as long as I exist on this earth. But let me try to explain where I’m coming from.
I don’t mind fans having an opinion about things like uniforms or the band or the announcers.
I have opinions about those things, too – quite a few of them, in fact.
I often voice them in my columns (see the 10,000 times I’ve made fun of announcers over the years).
Opinions are awesome. Without them, college football wouldn’t be as addictive as it is. That’s why the sport is so great – we actually care about things like how a team enters the stadium or whether their mascot is cool. That doesn’t happen in any other sport.
What befuddles me is when fans actually seem to let stuff like this genuinely affect their enjoyment of the game and the team.
I’ll give you an example. Strictly from an aesthetic/looks standpoint, I’m not crazy about the camouflage uniforms the Gamecocks have worn a couple of times in recent years. I love the cause and why they do it and I appreciate everything about it, but they just don’t look like what a South Carolina football team looks like in my mind when they wear them.
So when I see the team trot out on the field with them on, I briefly think, “Huh, those aren’t my favorite.” Then I never think about it again and root like crazy for my team.
I don’t call into sports talk shows and lose my mind, or rant on message boards. At the end of the day, it just isn’t that big of a deal to me.
I also don’t go the other way with it and drop that old cliché “I don’t care if the Gamecocks wear pink tutus on the field as long as they win.” Because I don’t want them to wear pink tutus, either.
My favorite uniforms are still the ones the team wore when I was a kid in the 1980s, purely from a nostalgia standpoint. There have been roughly 70,000 uniform combos since then, and I’ve liked some, been indifferent to some and outright disliked a handful. But none of them have affected my enjoyment of any given game.
Still, one thing I’ve always said (and always will) is that there’s no “right” or “wrong” way to be a sports fan. If color schemes and logo designs are your most important issues as a Gamecock fan, I’m not going to tell you to stop obsessing about them. Do your thing, for God’s sake. I might not get it, but I’m certainly not the arbiter of how you should go about enjoying football.
As long as you don’t Tweet mean things to high school athletes who are trying to decide where to attend college, or threaten a coach’s life, or drop your pants in a stadium to reveal a pair of Gamecock boxers to opposing fans, you’ll be fine out there.
Scattered, Smothered and Covered
Random thoughts from a nervous Gamecock fan anxiously awaiting Saturday…
- I’m inconceivably excited about the “Halloween” remake coming out next month. I’ve written many times about how weird I was as a kid, so it goes without saying that I’ve always been a horror fan. I went to the movies the other day and saw a poster for the new “Halloween” with the iconic Michael Myers mask looming in the darkness and felt strangely moved, like you would feel seeing photos on Instagram of a childhood friend you hadn’t seen in years. I promise I’m actually normal in real life.
- I made Frogmore Stew for the wife last night and actually spent time thinking about the fact that I still call it “Frogmore Stew.” Though I’m a Greenville boy, I spent the bulk of most summers growing up in Beaufort County at Harbor Island, a mere two miles or so from the community of Frogmore where the dish most folks now call “Lowcountry Boil” originates. If you call it Frogmore Stew like I do, then I know you’re from South Carolina.
- I inexplicably wrote a column about this a few years ago, but I’ve been trying to cook seriously for the last 10-15 years. I cook every day. I still have absolutely no idea what I’m doing in the kitchen even though I spend more time studying Pinterest recipes than the Barefoot Contessa. I constantly hear people brag about how good they are at cooking, and when I hear that, I have an annoying tendency to assume they have no idea what’s involved in the craft. When it comes to cooking, I’m like Nick Saban on coaching a football team: The second you start complimenting my food, I get defensive and let you know that you don’t understand how hard it is to cook. I think I’m missing the point with this whole thing.
- Did anyone else find that their minds exploded at the conclusion of “Sharp Objects” on HBO recently? I’d spent the previous month or so watching the show without having any idea what was happening, or even if it liked it. Then the ending happened, Led Zeppelin music abruptly blasted over the credits, I sat in stunned silence and immediately felt it might have been the greatest thing I’d ever seen in life. I can switch opinions on something within milliseconds – I’ve always reserved the right to do that.
- I’m going to try not to be obnoxious Saturday, but I’m secretly hoping the Gamecocks give me a reason to be.
