Before Saturday, I was mentally working on a snarky poem entitled "Green Notebooks and Spam." It had such inspiring lines as, "Would you, could you, from the three? Could you, would you, just for me?" and "I do not like touchdowns, Coach Richt; I do not like them, not a bit." But then we actually won the game, and I found myself in the position to write about something that only happens once. Let's face it: Bobo's play-calling will probably will probably still be lousy this time next week, but you only get to celebrate a coach's 100th Bulldog victory once.

At times, I borrowed lines almost directly from the work, but only because Dr. Seuss seemed to know a lot about Bulldog football already. I will, of course, post a link to the original in the first line of my poem so you can read the similarities and changes for yourself. With apologies to Dr. Seuss:

Congratulations!

Tonight is your night!

You've carded your hundredth

from Rocky Top's height!

‘Twas a Dooley who hired you,

a Dooley you subdued,

and a Dooley who talked on the radio, too.

E'en with the help of the foul-calling crew,

there was only so much that a Dooley could do.

So you reached triple digits

as the coach of the Dawgs-

96 more in Georgia

than the coach of the Hogs.

Oh!

Your record will grow!

You'll keep winning ballgames!

You'll continue your ascent!

You'll join the great coaches

with great winning percents!

You won't lag behind ‘cause you'll have SEC speed.

You'll pass and you'll run and you'll maintain the lead.

On the sideline as coach, you'll be best of the best.

Wherever you play, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't.

Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm a Negative Nellie;

I'm sorry, it's true.

Bad play calls

and nay-calls

will happen to you.

You'll plummet from champ

to chump with a bump.

You'll win less and less

in a bonafide slump.

Unslumping a slump

is not easily done.

Doing what's needed

is often unfun.

You will come to a place where you'll have to decide

the best way your offense to lead and to guide.

A place that could cost you much more than you'd fancy.

Do you want to play safe? Do you want to play chancy?

How well can you play against more than a pansy?

And if you should choose to call all your own plays,

how would yours differ from the man's you'd replace?

Would you take a big lead or shut down in the third?

As play-caller-chooser, would you strive or conserve?

Would you go for the kill or merely observe?

If you cannot decide,

the next place you'll face

is that much dreaded space

called the Waiting Place...

For people just waiting.

Waiting for more than three points or so,

waiting for the offense to go.

Or the calls to make sense, or the points to show

or the backs to block, or QB to throw

more than bombs on drive's first go.

No!

That's not for you.

Oh, your record will grow! You'll undo the harm done.

There are points you will score. There are games you'll have won.

The things that your players will do with the ball

will make you the winningest head coach of all.

Fame! They'll honor the ground on which you trod

by naming something after you besides Bobby Dodd.

Except when they don't.

Because sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some fans

will resent when you lose

games you should win-

but you sabotage you.

All alone!

With you the buck stops.

Alone is a constant

when you're up at the top.

But on you will go

though the zebras be foul.

On you will go

though your rivals do prowl.

On you will go

though the haterz wave towels.

Onward to many

a hostile arena,

where enemies scorn you

and howl like hyenas.

And will you succeed?

Yes! You will indeed!

(Even when 56 yards you will need!)

Coach, you'll keep winning!

So...

Be you playing the Hat or the Visor, take care.

Beware of Corch Boom and the Armani Bear.

A hundred is great,

but more you can do.

May you win twice that

before you are through.

via media.tripod.lycos.com