It occurred to me, recently, that amid the gnashing of teeth and vitriol aimed at our defensive coordinator and his charges, the most emotional and poignant event of the day has been almost completely forgotten.

Immediately after the first quarter ended, a red golf cart puttered onto the field, stopped at the 10-yard line, and for the first time in 4+ decades in Athens, Larry Munson stepped onto the Sanford Stadium field during a football game.

Munson had already been given a virtual "farewell tour" last season, with the Sanford Stadium souvenir cup series commemorating his career, and the awarding of an honorary varsity letter to Larry at halftime of one of the home games.  I think most fans, however, (myself included) felt some sense of shock and loss when Munson abruptly resigned after the Central Michigan game this year.  (Some friends of mine, who are in a position to know, have said that he was "gently encouraged" by the athletic department to quit after what I understand was a pretty poor performance against the not-really-a-directional-school from the north.)

Larry Munson has literally been the voice of Georgia football for the entire adult life of any fan that's over 60.  Whenever a Georgia fan recalls their favorite plays from the past, they inevitably are hearing Munson's call along with that play.  (The only notable exceptions are probably last year's  "one and done" play against Bama and the "so long everybody" Massaquoi TD against Florida.) Munson's most famous
calls are a veritable list of the best Georgia highlights of the last 42 years:  "Appleby to Washington," "Run Lindsay," "Hobnail boot," "Look at the Sugar falling from the sky," "Oh, you Herschel Walker," and the list goes on and on. 

On Saturday, Georgia officially said "farewell and thank you" to Larry Munson. From where I was sitting, I couldn't hear more than 2 words that Brook Whitmire, the stadium announcer, said during the entire tribute.  The only time I've ever heard the Sanford Stadium crowd sustain a cheer that loud and that long was for the handover from UGA V to UGA VI about 10 years ago, and I'm not even sure that matched up to the tribute the Dawg fans paid Larry.

I pride myself on trying to keep the game in perspective (it is, after all, only a game), but I have teared up and gotten a lump in my throat twice in my 20+ years of attending Georgia games.  The first was when we went to the SEC Championship Game for the first time in 2002 and the Recoat Band first struck up "Glory Glory" in the Georgia Dome during the pregame festivities.  The second was on Saturday.

You could feel the crowd's love for Larry, and his love and passion for the fans, the team, and the University.  Larry sat there, listening to the tribute and the crowd, and  he started to tear up, his lip quivering.  Then, he took his hat off and saluted all four ends of the stadium, igniting an even bigger roar, before he got back into the golf cart and rode back off the field.

In that time, which couldn't have been more than 5-7 minutes, the feeling in the crowd was palpable, and went something like this:  "Larry, we love you, and we've loved the way you've called the games while unabashedly supporting the Dawgs for as long as most of us can remember.  We really wish you didn't have to leave, but we understand that it's time."  And you could feel Larry's response, which I imagine to have been something like, "Damn, I'm really touched and humbled, and I've had a great ride.  I wish I didn't have to give it up, but I've enjoyed the time I've had, and I thank you for the opportunity to do it for so long."

There was a ceremony to commemorate the unveiling of Vince Dooley's statue at halftime, but it didn't come close to getting the response that Munson did.  Larry will always have a special place in the hearts of Georgia fans, and even though he won't be able to call games, I wish him a long, healthy future.