Butch Mulherin, the first orthopedic MD to hang out his shingle in Athens, was a Georgia native, a Bulldog football letterman, and a man of good humor with a deep and abiding passion for following a birddog through the brush and bramble of family acreage near Damascus in deep Southwest Georgia.
Mulhern’s athletic career was circuitous, but when he found his way, owing principally to the influence of his late wife, Ann, Butch’s medical journey was pioneering and ultimately thriving and pace setting in the Athens community.
Butch was a highly respected physician who would engage his patients in small talk about their family or their interests. He “fixed” a lot of broken bones, and repaired innumerable anterior cruciate ligaments that enabled countless athletes to return to lineups where glory was achieved in competition.
A native of Augusta, there were at least seven Mulherins who answered to the title of “Doctor,” including his father and grandfather as pediatricians. Still, he had no interest in following in their footsteps.
He was good at sports involving the use of his hands, but did not play football initially, preferring the country club sports of tennis and golf.
“To be honest,” he once said, “I was experiencing a fun life without a commitment to serious sports involvement and the classroom was for just getting by.”
A passion for his signature hobby, woodworking, would also become an asset later in his career.
Because he stood 6-4, his high school football coach, Frank Inman, advised Butch he would be a natural at basketball. The coach was right, and then Inman talked him into playing football. He played end and played it well enough to get the attention of the UGA football coaches after only one year on the gridiron. Serendipity smiled in his direction when he was offered a grant-in-aid to play for the Dogs.
In Athens, Butch developed a relationship with Zeke Bratkowski and became a favorite passcatching target of the man who would become one of the most valuable members of the Vince Lombardi title-grabbing Packers as the backup to Bart Starr.
Even so, Butch knew that he would not follow a path to the NFL. While not blatantly obvious, the medical tradition of his family lay heavily on his mind. Much of that had to do with his relationship with Ann Collins, a bright, attractive co-ed with a scholarly bent who brought focus and direction to his life.
Suddenly, Butch was socializing at the library. Not only did his report card show improved grades, but he was also enjoying a fulfilling campus experience. With academic enlightenment came love and marriage. In the days that followed, Butch returned to Augusta to enroll in the Medical College of Georgia, graduating in 1961. Following residency training, he began thinking of a community in which to settle.
Augusta would have been a good fit, as would Atlanta. Still, there was serious interest in Athens, despite Butch’s plans to become the first full-time orthopedic not being met with immediate enthusiasm in the Classic City medical community. One doc who welcomed him with open arms, though, was longtime Georgia team physician Marion Hubert.
At the time, players who suffered a serious injury such as anterior cruciate ligament damage had to journey to Atlanta for surgery. A former Bulldog player, Dr. Joe Boland, was an able physician, as was Fred Allman, who followed. Players undergoing surgery in Athens and being able to recuperate in a more familiar environment fared much better. Butch’s timing was acutely propitious.
I’ll always appreciate Butch Mulherin for his many fine qualities as a person. His skills and expertise as a physician always brought high marks from his peers and his patients.
Road games when the Bulldogs journeyed out of town were great fun. Tennis matches, if a court were near the team facility, meals at the leading restaurants, and cold beers before dinner, where storytelling was a staple of the evening, remain indelible in my memory. Butch loved a good joke and a good story.
I never saw him angry. He had the countenance of your sagacious grandfather. He treated all Georgia football players with the care that he would have underscored for his own son.
His sense of humor was ingrained in his personality. Once in the Herschel Walker era, the great running back’s ankle got twisted in a pileup. The master of playing hurt, Herschel, hobbled to the sideline and was taken to a training table.
When trainer Warren Morris came over and asked, “What does it look like?” Butch said, “It’s broken.” The Bulldog trainer almost fainted as Butch grinned with a “just kidding” remark.
As the Georgia radio network sideline announcer, I told that sideline episode on the air. The entire South stands seemed to be listening in, and when I quoted Butch’s “just kidding” remark, there was a crescendo of grateful “Ahhhaaa’s” emanating from Bulldog fans.