It's June. June 2020. That year. That time.
CoronaVirus, shattered economy, Another Black Man nakedly executed by the system on video.
Tough times for all. Plenty of time to reflect.
A schoolmate Dash knew from grade school took his own life.
Macro and micro.
Growing Pains. Parenting Pains.
Both our jobs are safe; most everyone we know is healthy.
We're okay. But a fragile time.
I haven't always felt disconnected.
But before that first remembered disconnect, I was disconnected. At birth I was given up for adoption, and my dad's first wife left when I was two.
A lesser disconnection, but the first remembered: Aunt Alice, my nanny - the earliest mother figure I still remember...
The first time my new stepmom hit me - at five-years old - I remember a disconnect, a violent shattering.
At eight, I remember huddling outside in the dark, hiding, scared. Trying to figure out where I could go, how I would eat. Stepmom had yelled at me "Tonight there is only going to be one of us in this house." She hadn't left. I was alone in the dark. The world was huge. I was facing how helpless I was in it. I was scared.
(a letter to HBC's email account (unanswered, but, hey, he and his staff are flooded).
Hi Coach Spurrier,
They say it’s just a game, but it can be so much more. Thank you for making Gator Football for what it is and empowering Gator Nation to be a greater force for good in the world – in big and “small” ways.
Thirty-plus years after you made Florida Football the juggernaut it deserves to be, you and it continue to make lives better.
The following is a screenshot of something that took me over fifty years to say – and mean sincerely. The longest, hardest reconciliation of my life.
I met my stepmom when I was five. It was not a good relationship. I even joined the military just to be able to completely cut off her influence in my life (I later enrolled at University of Florida (BSCE 1989)).
Our path to redemption was slow, and for a long time stayed stuck at an arms-length détente.
Gators Football was a common interest, and it provided a continuous thread of dialogue between my mom and me over decades (sadly, some friends from other schools, whom I love, I still touch base with only to talk smack pre-game. Without college football, we’d go years without talking).
She became a big fan and it has been a delight talking pre-and post-game with her. It seems simplistic to say it was the core upon which everything else coalesced, but such is the value of shared pleasures.
Such is the impact of “just a game”. Surrounded in a stadium with our brethren in fellowship. Having an excuse to say hello to some unfortunate soul wearing a rival’s hoodie. Healing individual wounds through a mutual “irrelevant” commitment.. Connection.
While it may seem shallow to say thank you for making my life better by kicking Bulldog and Seminole butt, my life IS in fact better. From the hours and hours of remote joy of our young men overcoming their young men in play, to the decades and decades of remote connection – ultimately morphing my team of demons and her team of demons into a single fairly well-behaved family.
“I love you, Mom”. Meaning it, fifty years in the making. Call it the 2023 Nurtural Championship.
You have added a lot of joy to all the lives in Gator Nation, and there are myriad untold stories of “small” but life-enriching connections you and Gator Football have catalyzed.
Thank you, Coach! My mom and I thank you.
-jeff martin
UF BSCE ‘89
Go --;==;<
PS: one of my favorite things about HBC were the interviews along the lines of “Well, I’m still a little mad from when back in 1965, they…” SOS is not only inarguably our best Coach, (arguably) our best player, but he’s truly one of the best Gators fans ever. He is the Ultimate Gator.
