This is overdue, and I regret having to pay tribute to a good friend belatedly. When I heard the news that my longtime friend Wayne Brantley had passed away a few weeks ago, I made plans to drive from Athens to Vidalia for his final service.
It was a busy time, with a lot going on, making it difficult for me to make the journey as I had initially planned. There are days when time constraints knuckle you under. It was the weekend before the Masters, followed by an event that required overtime.
Since then, I have spent considerable time recalling Wayne’s days in Athens, when he was a small guard (5-11, 195 pounds), but an overachiever who performed far bigger than his stature. He had fire in his belly—a fierce competitor imbued with a deep and abiding commitment to enjoying his campus days as a student-athlete.
While he loved the game, he also knew a degree would enhance his career when his college days were over. That meant it was just as important for him to make good grades in the classroom as it was to create a hole in the defense for the Georgia running backs. Some athletes are good at one but not the other. Wayne excelled at both. In addition, he was a good teammate, exhibiting the intangibles that bind a team.
He had a flair for drawing and enrolled in Industrial Arts when he entered UGA. Following graduation, he coached high school football in Greenwood, S.C., before returning to Vidalia to take over the family business.
Everywhere he went, he easily made friends. With his engaging personality and constant smile, he could have disarmed the devil if they had crossed paths. His nickname in high school was “Smiley,” which was apropos. If anybody ever deserved such a nickname, it was Wayne. His longtime friends never saw him frown.
The Johnny Griffith staff awarded Wayne a football scholarship in late 1961, and he became a regular at guard in 1962 with the freshman team. He was a co-captain of the varsity in 1963. Vince Dooley was hired in late December that year, and Wayne set about earning more playing time with the new staff in 1964, Dooley’s first season, which turned out to be serendipitous.
The Bulldogs of ’64 won six games, including the rivalry game with Georgia Tech. Then they defeated Texas Tech in the Sun Bowl at El Paso—one of the most memorable seasons for many Bulldog partisans. There was such harmony on the team that it spread to the fans, to the extent that longtime observers felt Dooley’s initial squad played with more heart and connection than perhaps any team that has played Between the Hedges.
It didn’t win a championship, but no team in Athens ever had greater heart. In the middle of all that upward emotion was the smiling and ebullient Wayne Brantley, the friendliest man in Toombs County, maybe in the state of Georgia.
In 1965, the Bulldogs got off to an encouraging start. The schedule was daunting—defending national champion Alabama in Athens, Michigan in Ann Arbor, Florida State in Tallahassee, North Carolina in Chapel Hill, and Georgia Tech in Atlanta. Tough conference games with Vanderbilt, Kentucky, Florida, and Auburn were also part of the challenge.
After getting up 10–0 on Alabama, the Bulldogs fell behind 17–10 with time becoming of the essence in the fourth quarter. The staff had talked in preseason about what to do in an emergency and installed a flea-flicker play. At this point, things were dire. A big play was sorely needed.
If you know anything about Georgia football history, you likely know the rest of the story. The flea flicker, which had never worked in practice, was executed to perfection. As the inimitable Dan Magill chronicled it: “Moore to Hodgson to Taylor to Glory.” Quarterback Kirby Moore threw a short pass to the button-hooking Pat Hodgson, who shoveled the ball to halfback Bob Taylor, who went the distance—73 yards. Moore’s two-point conversion pass to Hodgson sealed an 18–17 victory.
In the aftermath came the celebratory photo of the team carrying Coach Dooley off the field on their shoulders to shake hands with legendary Alabama coach Bear Bryant. The centerpiece of that iconic photograph was “Smiley” Brantley. It remains one of the greatest images in UGA football history.
Football was fun for ol’ No. 61. He didn’t mind the grind a player endured during the week because of the opportunity to play Between the Hedges on Saturday. He loved his Bulldog days and was forever a devoted alumnus. He was proud of his diploma and his letter jacket—each representing something earned.
When he was honored in Athens in 2015 by the UGA Chapter of the National Football Foundation, the nation’s largest chapter, for postgraduate achievement, Wayne brought his family. He showed them where he had lived, played, and studied. All enjoyed a good time.
I don’t think UGA has recognized a former letterman who was more appreciative than Wayne. Without question, he was a “Damn Good Dawg.”