Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Camden Game: Part 2 of 4
And the reason is that most knew that Camden, whom the Cadets had cleverly managed to never schedule in the regular season for 50+ years, was even stronger than Wayne was. Why bother wasting all Friday evening and the early hours of Saturday driving up and down I-95 just to watch BC get drilled?
The Savannah Morning News predicted the Wildcats would be the easy victor, and I'm sure the Florida Times-Union did was well. At the lunch table that week, I had few takers on my offer to drive whomever was interested to Kingsland. And that's understandable. I'm sure Ryan had to go to a Blink 31182 Chili Pepper's concert, I bet Chris had to work at a grocery store, etc. By Friday, TC, Whitledge, and myself all agreed we would ride down together to watch what looked like it would be an ass-beating, but would turn out to be a spectacle I will be telling my grandchildren about.
The three of us saddled up in my '97 red Jeep Grand Cherokee and got ready to make our way down the entire length of the Georgia coast on a stormy September Friday night. We prepared to depart civilization and venture into the heart of darkness that is South Georgia, where no Catholic kid from the city is safe. Okay, that's probably romanticized and way over-the-top, but whatever, I am trying to make this sound real dramatic so just go with it.
The rain picked up and the thunder boomed louder as we made our way past Richmond Hill and then Darien, blaring TC's Slipknot CD's, descending through what felt like Dante's nine circles of hell, until all that lay between us and the enemy kingdom was the Brunswick Steak and Shake...
To Be Continued...