Game Review: Florida v Tennessee- September 18 2010

Before the game, I could be found deep in conversation with my dear old roommate. Like true SEC fans, we’d all ready dissected every aspect of our game and moved on to the national scene. I declared it would be best if Arkansas beat Georgia, but a Bulldog victory could easily be spun in the SEC’s favor. “Why aren’t you a commentator for ESPN?” he wondered.

Four hours later, as I sat sobbing in the endzone to the Pride of the Soutland’s strains of the Tennessee Waltz, I knew why.

The loss itself, like a noble death, had no sting. I’ve been cheering for the Vols for nearly a decade and have sat through them all: close losses and blowouts, last second losses and those in which the game need not have continued after halftime, ugly losses and moral victories. A type of loss I haven’t suffered does not exist, and, until today, only two have actually induced me to tears.

I could blame the onset of sun poisoning, but I won’t. I’ll admit to being moved by a long, emotional game in which we came so close and found ourselves wanting, yet again. But unlike so many past losses, this loss does not indicate a painful descent into mediocrity but rather a slow rise into superiority. My entire Volunteer life has been tainted by the word “rebuilding;” only this year has it been true. For the first time, the future is an exciting opportunity and not a maelstrom of inevitable underachievement. My tears intermixed the salt of disappointment with the water of reasonable optimism.

I could also harp on our mistakes and the many weaknesses we have that scare me, but I won’t. An open wound needs a suture, not a scalpel. There are more than enough threads to stitch up our wounded pride.

Our D is stout and disinclined to surrender many first downs. Our offensive line is the best we’ve ever had when one considers it has no returning starters. Our quarterback becomes more accurate with every pass and has finally learned sometimes QB’s are more like garbage men—you just need to throw it away. Our field goal kicker earns three points every time it’s asked of him, including at a record long. We faced our second Top Ten team in as many weeks, and took them down to the final six minutes. Even after that, we all—players and fans alike—bared our hearts as if the game were still in our grasp.

After the game, as is customary, the teams shook and huddled on the field. Florida left the field to the jubilation of Gator fans just as the Pride struck up Rocky Top. Not even the cheers of the victor could drown out Tennessee’s voice. To paraphrase a former coach: we will never hear the naysayers; Rocky Top’s playing too loud.