Key Issues

L. S. WHO?

Oh, that was so immature. Sorry Christina, I couldn't help myself. (Visit her by the way. Anyone who calls me a genius can't be all bad.)

I was there, and I only heard that line a few hundred times during the third and fourth quarters. My ears are still aching from the volume of the crowd.

I told the old man that if our beloved Dawgs had used the free week to get the passing game down, we'd be set. And he said that they really needed to bring their "A" game. ...They did both.

45 to 16. Sweeeeet...

I can't even begin to describe the euphoria of the crowd. People who may have otherwise hated each other were united in Dawg basking.

I was hugged, high-fived, and even weirder still ...adopted.

The latter happened outside the restroom. The Men's and Women's rooms were a mere 30 feet apart. Try traveling that distance within a 15-foot corridor jammed to the edges with multi-directional traffic.

No problem. I can find my husband, I thought. He was wearing khaki shorts, a red UGA shirt, and a tan UGA cap. ...he and half the stadium.

So I entered the mob scene and kept my eyes peeled for tan hat wearers. I spotted one to the left, and just as I realized that it wasn't him, I felt arms circling me from the right.

About time you show up, I thought. Due to the force of the mob, the embrace tightened with a familiar confidence as I was affectionately spun around, held closely, and pushed through the crowd.

3 split-second observations:
1. I was spun while my head was still turned. Therefore, I didn't get a good look at my captor.
2. Mr. Key is not openly affectionate AT ALL, unless I demand some sort of linkage to avoid being separated. (Still, this seemed too intimate for a mostly sober Mr. Key.)
3. Why was I being turned around? Our seats were now in the opposite direction.

Oh, shit.

Somehow, I pushed back against the mob enough to remove myself from the strange embrace. Only then did I notice, that aside from the tan hat, there was absolutely NO resemblance to Mr. Key.

In that second of realization, I stared ever so briefly at this mid-forties mystery man. I must say that I was speechless. I must have looked at him as though I wanted an explanation, because he smiled broadly - sheepishly without being apologetic - and said nothing.

I guess I thought maybe he thought I was someone else. But no, apparently, that wasn't the case. More likely the beer-induced euphoria brought the motto: Lose the one your with, just grab another.

Soooo..., I turned my stunned bootie around and wedged myself back through the crowd, finding my husband at our designating meeting spot.

Game days are just weird.