No. 10 is an excellent example, as a Georgia fan's generation probably has quite a lot to do with whether he associates that jersey with Fran Tarkenton, Larry Rakestraw, Ray Goff, or Eric Zeier.

With whom do you associate No. 4, Bucky Dilts or Champ Bailey? No. 5, Kevin Butler or Garrison Hearst? No. 12, Mike Cavan or John Lastinger? No. 14, Kirby Moore or Terry Hoage? No. 24, Horace King or Lindsay Scott? No. 57, Happy Dicks or Mo Lewis? No. 60, Pat Dye or Steve Greer? No. 87, Pat Hodgson or Troy Sadowski?

I can think of no famous No. 21s besides Frank Sinkwich, no famous No. 40s besides Theron Sapp, and no famous No. 62s besides Charley Trippi. The most famous No. 34 before Herschel Walker was Buzy Rosenberg.

There have, however, been numerous famous No. 47s in Bulldog history: Jim Griffith, Nate Taylor, and Robert Edwards all wore that jersey before David Pollack, so our association with No. 47 is not confined solely to one player, as is the case with the other retired jerseys.

Here is an interesting complicating factor: Robert Edwards has a compelling case for being in 1997 what what Theron Sapp had been 40 years before; namely, "The Drought Breaker" whose performance snapped the Red and Black's longest losing skid against an annual rival.

Sapp seems to be the best argument for waiting a few years for the passions of the moment to cool before honoring a particular player in this manner; there is a reason why baseball players cannot be voted into Cooperstown the year after they retire, and why, for instance, some government buildings cannot be named for individual honorees until a certain period of time has passed since their retirements or deaths.

However, we have never waited to retire a jersey. Sinkwich's was retired in 1943, Trippi's in 1947, and Sapp's in 1959; those players were wearing those jerseys in Sanford Stadium as the captains of the 1942, 1946, and 1958 Bulldogs, respectively.

The ceremony at which Walker's jersey was retired took place at halftime of the home opener between the hedges on September 2, 1985. Had Herschel stayed for his senior season, his jersey would have been retired at the start of the second fall since his departure from Athens.

If David Pollack's jersey were retired tomorrow, he would have waited the longest of any of the five honorees to have his number shelved. That isn't a reason for doing it now rather than later, but that is the way it always has been done.

If we're going to honor "drought breakers," though, Edwards's 1997 game against the Gators is comparable---both in the length of the losing streak and in the quality of the opposition during that period---to Sapp's 1957 game against the Yellow Jackets.

I'm playing devil's advocate here, but how 'bout retiring No. 47 to pay tribute both to Edwards (a drought breaker analogous to Sapp) and Pollack (who, with Walker, was one of Georgia's only two three-time all-Americans)? Have them both there at the 50 yard line at halftime, with one on either side of the No. 47 jersey in the middle, and put it in the trophy case to honor both.

I'm not arguing for that, necessarily, but it's an intriguing proposition.

This is partly why I periodically agitate for moving the Georgia Tech game to September or October, to make it more like, e.g., Colorado-Colorado State, Iowa-Iowa State, or Michigan-Michigan State . . . big, but by no means the biggest game. It also is why I am troubled when I hear the closing line of the Battle Hymn of Bulldog Nation sung, "And to Hell with Georgia Tech!" They sing about us every game because we're their biggest rival; we shouldn't sing about them every game because they're South Carolina with higher academic standards and uglier women.

Once again, though, I want to play devil's advocate here and argue why the 1997 Florida game was equally as important as the 1957 Georgia Tech game, if not more so. Consider:

• Georgia Tech beat Georgia eight straight times from 1949 to 1956. Prior to that point, the Yellow Jackets had never beaten the Bulldogs more than five years running. Florida beat Georgia seven straight times from 1990 to 1996. Prior to that point, the Gators had never beaten the Bulldogs more than four years running. In each case, it was (and remains) the opponent's longest streak over the 'Dawgs by three games.
• From 1949 to 1956, Georgia Tech went 71-16-3. From 1990 to 1996, Florida went 73-14-1.
• Between 1949 and 1956, Georgia Tech attended six bowl games in eight seasons: one Cotton, one Gator, one Orange, and three Sugar Bowls. Between 1990 and 1996, Florida attended six bowl games in seven seasons: one Fiesta, one Gator, and four Sugar Bowls.
• Between 1949 and 1956, Georgia Tech finished in the A.P. top ten five times, finished in the A.P. top two once, and claimed a (dubious) share of the divided 1952 national title. Between 1990 and 1996, Florida finished in the A.P. top ten six times, finished in the A.P. top two twice, and won an undisputed 1996 national title.
• Between 1949 and 1956, Georgia Tech won two S.E.C. championships. Between 1990 and 1996, Florida won five Eastern Division championships, five S.E.C. championships, and finished first in the S.E.C. while on probation in 1990.
• In 1957, the year Theron Sapp broke the drought, Georgia Tech went 4-4-2, finished eighth in the S.E.C. with a losing record in conference play, failed to qualify for a bowl game, and beat one team with a winning record . . . Duke. In 1997, the year Robert Edwards broke the drought, Florida went 10-2, won the Citrus Bowl, and finished the season ranked fourth in the Associated Press final poll.
• In 1957, Georgia went 3-7. It was the Bulldogs' third straight losing season and seventh straight season without a bowl game. In the six years following that breakout victory over Georgia Tech, the 'Dawgs posted four losing records and attended one bowl game. In 1997, Georgia went 10-2. It was the first season since 1992 in which the Red and Black won more than six games. After having gone 22-22-1 from 1993 to 1996, Georgia proceeded to win eight or more games in each of the next ten seasons after 1997 . . . and counting.

We may, in the 1950s, have hated Georgia Tech as much as we now hate Florida, but we always respected Bobby Dodd as a man, while we have never regarded Steve Spurrier with anything less than contempt. Some may have called Coach Dodd a genius, but no one ever called him evil.

I wasn't there in 1957, obviously, but I was in Alltel Stadium in 1997 and it remains one of the five finest gameday experiences of my life. Was Theron Sapp's streak-snapping touchdown greeted with universal euphoria throughout Bulldog Nation? Undoubtedly. Was that generation of Georgia fans any more passionate about wanting to beat the Yellow Jackets than the generation just behind NCT's and mine was passionate about beating Steve Superior and the hated Gators? I doubt that sincerely.

Sapp's and Edwards's performances, in my estimation, were of comparable significance against longstanding rivals. In many ways, Georgia Tech's streak and Florida's streak were strikingly similar, but, to the extent they were different, they diverged in ways that made the Gators---during the streak and during the season in which it ended---the tougher rival to beat, and the 1997 victory may have helped to usher in a much stronger period of gridiron glory for Georgia. Sapp's game-winner clearly had no such salutary long-term effects.

For that reason, I believe a principled case could---and, perhaps, should---be made for the proposition that, if Theron Sapp earned the retirement of his jersey in a single game in Atlanta, then Robert Edwards did likewise in a single game in Jacksonville. Granted, we used to chant, "Wreck Tech," but no Georgia play-by-play man ever begged Theron to run, broke a chair when he scored, or greeted a Bulldog victory over the Golden Tornado with the declaration that there would be some property destroyed that night.

Whenever I'm being overly nitpicky about such things, my wife usually asks me, "Does 'anal-retentive' have a hyphen?" She means that as a rhetorical question, but I can't help answering, "Yes," which probably proves her point.