Alana Smith
It’s September, which means college football is back. And all the folks in the South said a collective, “Amen!”
If you are new to the South, you will quickly learn that college football is a way of life here. It’s not because we have nothing else to do—not at all. It’s because we have good football throwing weather ten months out of the year. Because there isn’t a NFL team to divert fans to. Because two huge SEC rivals are only 150 miles apart. Because we grew up watching our parents and their parents love the game. Because you are either Alabama or Auburn, and there’s no in between. Because fall in Alabama wouldn’t be right without football.
We are big Bama fans in my house. And in the South, “Roll Tide” is a way of saying, hello, goodbye, good luck, go get ‘em, or any statement you want to add a little more emotion to.
Before the championship game last year, my seven-year-old said, “Mom, don’t get loud and crazy this time.”
Whoops.
I’m a loud clapper and a “TACKLE SOMEBODY!” yeller. I jump out of my seat and pace about. I’m probably pretty annoying to watch a game with.
I just love college ball. These kids (they are kids) have such incredible talent and heart, and they play with so much on the line. I get all the feels as I watch pre-game hype, and I get so nervous when Alabama is behind that it makes me literally sweat. When each season ends, I actually mourn a little knowing it will be 235 more days until I hear Eli Gold say, “THIS is Alabama football!”
I’m always going to cheer for the Tide, but I have to say, the Georgia Bulldogs made me smile a little, even after they beat us last year.
I could just feel the joy radiating from them. Stetson Bennett is the definition of underdog and he deserved a pat on the back, and a you-proved-them-all-wrong award. What a triumph for him, to go from walking on the team and being told he wasn’t good enough, to pulling out a National Championship victory. Good for him and good for the dawgs.
I’m pretty new to the writing community, but I’ve seen that like sports, writing comes with a lot of rejection. A lot. And that’s life. Just because someone says you aren’t good enough doesn’t mean you aren’t good enough. It’s just not your day. Or your year.
And last year was Georgia’s year.
I hate to break it to my fellow Bama fans, but you just can’t win them all. And honestly, it would get pretty boring if we did. I wish this would resonate with kids today—learning to lose with grace, being humble, getting up and dusting yourself off instead of passing blame or thinking you are entitled to the win. You aren’t. If you didn’t win today, you weren’t ready, or it just wasn’t your time.
Here’s to hoping this year is your year.
And everyone said…
ROLL TIDE!
Alana is a nurse anesthetist, writer and boy mom (ages 7 and 2), who lives in north Shelby County with her husband, kids and Boxer, Sam. When she’s not writing or chasing little humans, she can usually be found in the aisles of Target. She shares her writings at Holy Moly Motherhood (on Facebook and Instagram), where she takes on all things motherhood and marriage.
