It is always hot in August when today’s collegiate football players report. Yesteryear, however, it just wasn’t the same.
Years back, college players reported a month later. They returned on Labor Day weekend after spending the summer in manual jobs that helped get them in shape for football in those days before air conditioning became the norm. It also kept them out of trouble.
If you were employed in construction and then worked out after “quittin’ time,” that Spartan lifestyle meant you were compatible with an early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine.
Today, players spend all summer running and lifting weights, putting them in peak condition when reporting day comes about. Except for timing and the integration of new faces in the lineup, teams could play a game a week after fall practice begins.
Fifty years ago, players were reporting on the weekend of the first game we play these days. They would return to campus Labor Day weekend and play three Saturdays later.
Now, pre-season practices are a defense against heat stroke in that players have spent time outdoors all summer, becoming acclimated to the high temperatures they will play in come Labor Day weekend.
The season began extending in the ‘70s. First, it was 11 games, then 12. The pre-season naturally began earlier. Instead of getting underway on the first of September, suddenly the start date was early August.
While Georgia’s pre-season status back then did not make national headlines as it does today, the beginning of the new season was always a community highlight for laid-back Athens.
When the players dressed out in their bright red jerseys and sparkling silver britches at Sanford Stadium, it was an emotional boon to the entire community. Dan Magill, the publicity maestro back then, made sure all the pretty Georgia cheerleaders were on hand for photo ops. Sonny Seiler always brought Uga, the famous UGA mascot.
Magill had feature photos made of all the upperclassmen with those pretty faces, Uga and the head coach, which were then sent to hometown papers across the state. In most cases, the photos were accompanied by a feature story about the players. The man knew how to promote, certainly for the times.
He was good at what he did because he had a seasoned talent for words and ideas. Most of all, he was driven to promote his beloved alma mater. Magill grew up in Athens, his father was editor of the old Athens Banner newspaper, and no Georgia man loved the University of Georgia like Magill.
A multi-faceted genius with an undying passion for all things red and black, he was an out-front drumbeater who would give the writers of his day storylines and angles that enhanced positive coverage. Magill always sought to provide material to bring about positive headlines, and he was never reluctant to challenge a writer who took any negative shots at his Bulldogs.
Jim Minter, who became editor of Atlanta’s Journal-Constitution, was a former sportswriter. He also was a Georgia graduate who managed the sports section for many years during the great newspaper era of the 1950s and ‘60s.
Now a nonagenarian living in Fayette County, Minter remembers Magill, greatly bothered by a negative sports story in an early-‘50s edition, calling him with a terse comment. “Jim, if captain Bobby Garrard were to drop dead of a heart attack today, the headline in the Atlanta papers would read, ‘Garrard quits Georgia team.’” After the picture day frolic in Sanford Stadium, the writers, along with a broadcaster or two, including the “golden throat,” Ed Thilenius, would repair to Magill’s side yard on Woodlawn Avenue in Five Points for beer and Poss’ barbecue.
The cagey Magill would also invite key campus luminaries and staffers, along with certain UGA faculty, celebrated running backs Frank Sinkwich and Charley Trippi, the Athens mayor, and any other local celebrities he could find about town.
One summer, I called Mayor Upshaw Bentley and asked if the creek that trickled past Magill’s property could be named after the Bulldog hero. The mayor responded positively. He brought a proclamation to the picture day barbecue that year. It established that said creek was to be renamed “Magill Creek” in perpetuity. Magill was greatly pleased.
A few days ago, I rode by Magill’s old homestead, stopped, and gave a salute to Magill Creek and the man who gave of himself more than any who has come UGA’s way. Talk about a Damn Good Dawg! He was the original.