The criteria for the greatest plays are not something that can be drawn up on a chalkboard. They depend on several factors and circumstances that the best screenplay writers could not script.
However, you could hardly improve on what played out in the Georgia-Alabama game between the hedges on Sept. 18, 1965, however. Alabama was the defending national champion, coached by the colorful Bear Bryant.
The Bulldogs were an upstart team playing for a new coach, but nobody expected the results that came about. But the underdogs prevailed, which trumpeted widespread acclaim at the scoreboard’s glorious final posting.
Vincent Joseph Dooley, the 32-year-old head coach, had brought new life to a slumping program. His first team won seven games and took the Bulldogs to the Sun Bowl – serendipity at its finest, if you wore red and black in those years.
College football was about to emerge from the shackles of the one-platoon system. In the winter of 1965, the UGA coaching staff would sign the best freshman class in years, dating back to the forties: Jake Scott, Bill Stanfill, and Billy Payne were among the headliners who united with a cast that wanted to compete for a job and to help the new staff develop a winning program. No team had more hunger and passion to win than the Bulldogs.
In the reestablishment mix were initial successes highlighted by victories over Georgia Tech and Texas Tech in the Sun Bowl in 1964 before the talented sophomores were ready to play in 1966. Those sophomores would contribute noticeably as soon as they reached varsity status. The theme song for UGA alumni became, “Happy Days are here again.”
The old guard had something to prove before those new faces could get on the field. George Patton, Joe Burson, Doug McFalls, Kirby Moore, Pat Hodgson, and others were tired of negative carping. Nobody could convince them that they couldn’t beat Alabama, and, for sure, they were mentally ready on that fabled day.
NBC covered the game, the first network-televised game in Athens, sending Jim Simpson and Bud Wilkinson to call it. I remember that Simpson was reading James Michner’s book The Source, a bestselling historical novel about Israel and the Jewish state. Simpson departed for the Atlanta Airport on Sunday and left the book in his hotel room in Athens. We retrieved the book and sent it to him, which also introduced me to a celebrated author and his remarkable works.
I was fascinated to hear Bud Wilkinson talk about his career as a player under Bernie Bierman at Minnesota and his coaching career at Oklahoma. That extraordinary and fun-filled weekend gave me a warm friendship with one of the greatest coaches in American history, which lasted until Bud passed away in 1994.
The former coach was taken by Vince and his youthful coaching staff's intellectual acuity and fundamental astuteness. He was so taken that when his successor at Oklahoma, Gomer Jones, was fired, he called the president of Oklahoma and told him he would be hiring the best young coach in the country if he hired Vince Dooley.
The “flea-flicker game” got off to a lucky start, with Jiggy Smaha crashing into Alabama’s Steve Sloan early in the game. Smaha’s bull rush forced Sloan to cave in while passing the ball, which brought about a dying duck of a pass that George Patton caught in stride and returned 60 yards for a touchdown.
I was sitting in the press box with Tuss McLaury, a longtime college coach who had become the secretary of the American Football Coaches Association and would be instrumental in moving the Coaches All-America game from Buffalo to Atlanta. He was in his sundown years and was caught up in the excitement of the game, making me believe he favored the underdog Bulldogs.
Alabama, with its depth and seasoning, fought back to tie the game and then went ahead in the fourth quarter 17-10. The Bulldogs had trouble moving the ball, and late in the fourth quarter, they knew that it was time to try a trick play that had never worked in practice.
Kirby Moore, the quarterback with fleet feet from Dothan, Alabama, was flabbergasted when Dooley sent in a substitute who announced to Kirby in the huddle, “Coach Dooley said to run the flea-flicker.” The play that brought snickers on the practice field suddenly created a sensation that rocked Sanford like it had not been rocked since Fran Tarkenton threw the 13-yard pass to Bill Herron to defeat Auburn in 1959. (Sunday morning in his office, the incomparable Dan Magill shouted, “Moore to Hodgson to Taylor to Glory.”)
The game was not over, however. Vince called time out and huddled with his offensive coaches. I had taken Wilkinson down to the field, where he was positioned to interview the winning coach, not knowing who it would be.
But he was smitten with the play and the audacity of the Georgia coaches.
Vince broke the huddle with his offensive staff, walked about five steps to Wilkinson, and said softly, “We are going for two.”
Wilkinson, caught up in the excitement, gushed enthusiastically, “We’ve got to.”
On a rollout, Moore hit Hodgson for the two-point conversion, bringing about one of the most sensational plays in Sanford Stadium history.
It was no surprise when the Sooners made a coaching change three months later that one of the first calls went out to Vince Dooley, which caused an uproar across the state. Georgia was back in high cotton, and a collegiate heavyweight with a lot of oil money was coming after the UGA coach. Euphoria turned to deep depression. The good news: Vince stayed, which caused a ringing of the chapel bell. Even Dean of Men, another colorful campus icon, took a turn as the bells chimed out another UGA victory.
Another story is what happened after that and how Dooley decided to stay in Athens.