A Gentle Reminder of Why We Call It Clean Old-Fashioned Hate

The longstanding rivalry between the Georgia Bulldogs and the Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets needs no introduction to fans of college football; it is well known even to outsiders. Nevertheless, an illustrative example may serve to underscore the heartfelt passions stirred by this gridiron grudge match, and, for that, we turn to a report penned by Ed Rogers for an edition of The Red and Black published in the autumn of 1937:

One Saturday night that fall, an out-of-town visitor was apprehended in Athens. When asked, he gave his name as Bob Dieckman, adding after it “T-41,” to indicate his standing as a student at the Georgia Institute of Technology, a status reflected in records from the period. Dieckman, who was said to be accompanied by four accomplices traveling in a 1935 Chevrolet, had come to the Classic City with a supply of Colonial yellow paint, which he used to deface sidewalks and walls on the University of Georgia campus.

Dieckman was caught by night watchman W.B. Nunnally in the act of painting the words “Georgia Tech” on the back door of Peabody Hall. Nunnally got word of the interloper to the nearby dormitories, and the students assembled posses to guard local landmarks and patrol the streets in search of Dieckman's cohorts. Dieckman himself was taken to Old College and interrogated by Nunnally and students Clark Gaines and John Wilson, whom Rogers described in the newspaper as a “Senior class bigshot” and the “chief vigilante,” respectively.

Nunnally, Gaines, and Wilson cut Dieckman's hair and painted a yellow “T” atop his bald head. The night watchman and “more than 100 howling, patriotic Georgia students” then led their captive across campus, where he was made to clean up the acts of vandalism he had committed.

Georgia freshmen were stationed inside Sanford Stadium to protect it against invasion. While ensconced in that arena, which then was less than a decade old (and which was built when it was, at least partly in response to a loss to the Ramblin’ Wreck in Atlanta), the Red and Black underclassmen burst into an impromptu rendition of “Glory, Glory to Old Georgia.”

That incident took place 75 football seasons ago, yet still we sing our song about the University of Georgia, giving glory to the nation’s oldest state-chartered university, and still they sing their song about the University of Georgia, celebrating the teaching of blasphemous profanities to youngsters, and still we celebrate our hate, which is as old-fashioned as students at the Institute vandalizing the campus of the University, and as clean as Bob Dieckman’s shaven head.

Go ‘Dawgs!