So a few weeks ago, my husband, son, and middle daughter made the trek for my son to attend Kirby Smart camp at UGA. I mean, it’s like Old Home week, going back to one of the Wonders of the World: Athens.
Athens, Georgia, that is.
Our kids love hearing us speak of “back when we were here” as if we are the paid tour coordinators of campus. Their glazed over eyes say so. I digress.
After surveying last night’s nursing home argument debate, I feel such an urgency to get this out. Open letter to follow:
Dearest Kirby,
Have you considered running for president this year? I’m serious. I mean it as no insult, as what the office of the grandest country in the world has started to become in this time, to imply that you would even fit into the current mold. No, on the contrary, Coach.
You’ve got the chops, man.
I watched you lead your camp in Athens just a week ago, and I’ll be darned if the thought didn’t hit me square on the cheek while on the bus back to the dorm to pack up my sweaty son from this said camp: Kirby for President. I know it feels like a slogan button adorned on a cropped red jacket or pinned to a black mini skirt on a co-ed on a cool fall Saturday. But it’s not.
Bear with me.
Kirby, you’d make a DGD- that is Damn Good ‘Dent.
I watched you hold everybody, and I mean everybody: kids, coaches, parents, too– accountable. I think we Americans have forgotten what that means these days. You’d call out some laziness, on the microphone! in front of everyone!, and just keep on trucking. It wasn’t criticism, it was conditioning. You wanted people to do better, to push themselves. You praised those working hard, and demanded more out of them. A novel concept in much of today’s world: everything isn’t meant to be taken personally (or maybe it should? a little self introspection?), and self worth is valued. You scolded the (me) parents who were hovering a little too much on the sidelines and pretty much told us to go on home. And we DID. Well, not home; we went downtown. But we didn’t cross your border. The one you had in place to keep the campers safe and the coaches able to do their jobs. And I think you know we parents couldn’t help but loiter around the boundary because of course we wanted to be on the field and in the facility because you got some good things going on in there! Isn’t that what makes people want to come? I mean we could come, we just had to do it the right way and at the right time.
Those kids listened to you. Those coaches listened to you. Those parents listened to you. And you know why. Respect. Respect you earned. You earned it from working your way from the bottom up. You played the game, you know what it’s like. Shoulder to shoulder, you’ve been in the muck with everyone. It’s easy to connect with folks when you know where they’ve been and what it feels like. Last time I checked, there weren’t any silver spoons in Bainbridge, Georgia and if there are, they don’t come until real important company comes. Like when a preacher comes for sup or there’s somebody gettin’ married.
And let’s talk about mascots. No donkeys, no elephants. You’d be a bulldog. A BullDawg. We all know America got that dog in us. But we ain’t acting like it. We act more like the jack-assses and tide-rolling elephants (I had to, don’t hate, I know you were one for a hot minute but came over to the good boys side as quick as you could. Couldn’t hide that dog in you!) Ain’t no party like a Dawg party, and that’s the truth. The Dawg Party always gets my vote.
Just think about it, Kirb.
You know how to campaign. We’ve seen your recruiting classes.
You know how to win. Back to back Natty’s ring a bell? (Ah, the bell…)
You know how to lead. I saw that first hand at camp. And again, that championship football team part.
You have a natural tan. We know orange isn’t flattering on anyone.
You speak in complete, coherent sentences, even when rabid.
I don’t think you personally nor your kids have been convicted of any f-words. (I’m not talking about the one you use as an adjective; because hello yes you’re guilty of that, but it’s the least of our concerns.)
You can stand upright on your own two feet.
You surround yourself with smart people, Ann Hunt being one of them. (She would make an f-word-ing great Press Secretary!) Your coaching staff is bar none and you and they are the reason Georgia is great again. I had to, y’all.
Your hair is pretty amazing and you don’t comb it to look that way.
You wouldn’t even need the Secret Service because you have your O Line. Best line of defense there is.
Can we just talk about how fantastic Mrs. Mary Beth would be as first lady? I mean.
My case has been laid for you. I know things are getting real busy round there and will only be picking up as the off season comes to a close. Just think about it.
And I’ve got a great idea: Nick Saban can be your VP and can handle your duties during football season, ’cause we all know he ain’t doing nuffin’ during those months now, and he also knows how to win (and do you know how bad that hurt my fingers to type that out in black and white right now??? but see, we Dawgs cross party lines and come together for the people!).
Kirby Smart, it’s not too late. THROW YOUR NAME IN THE HAT, PLEASE SIR.
Sincerely yours,
BP
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