W. Clay Smith

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Foreigner in the Stands…

Why am I such a devoted fan of the University of Florida?  As Hank Williams sang, “It’s a family tradition.”  We’ve had tickets in the North End Zone since 1962.  My sister, nieces, nephew, and countless cousins are graduates. People ask if I attended Florida.  I did not.  They did not have a Ministerial track, so I went to Samford University. 

As a Gator fan, you get used to the ups and downs.  We have been very good and won National Championships.  We have been very bad and had winless seasons.  Still, at the third quarter break, when the band strikes up “We are the Boys of Old Florida,” I still get goosebumps.  I stand and loyally sing, “In all kinds of weather, we all stick together, for F-L-O-R-I-D-A.” 

Florida State is not Florida’s biggest rival.  Our biggest rival is Georgia.  The game is played in Jacksonville, a neutral site.  The stadium is divided down the middle: half orange and blue, half black and red.  Before every football game was on cable, Florida vs. Georgia, the World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party, was the one Florida game on TV every year. 

In seminary days, two of my closest friends were Bob and William.  Great guys, with one flaw: they both pulled for Georgia.  In the years since seminary, we always touch base around the Florida/Georgia game, mostly so the winners can torment the losers.   

Bob’s son, Lewis, played football for my alma-mater, Samford, and after graduation has gone to the football staff of Georgia.  Bob got in touch with William and I before the season started and asked if we wanted to go the game in Jacksonville; he could get Lewis’ tickets for free (there may have been some discussion about Lewis paying his dad back for twenty-two years of support, but I was not privy to those negotiations). The schedule worked out, and we made plans to all be together for the first time in thirty-two years. 

We had a great time catching up in Jacksonville, eating at a fine steakhouse, and meeting some cousins of mine.  Then it was game time.  As we walked into the stadium, it hit me – I would be sitting in the Georgia section.  I had been to this game before, but I was always sitting with my own kind, with people attired in orange and blue.  “The Red Zone” took on new meaning as we found our seats.  Not only was I sitting in the Georgia section, but I was also sitting with the Georgia players’ families.  Mine was the only Gator blue shirt in sight.   

It was not bad through the pre-game activities.  A couple of Georgia fans kidded me about wearing the wrong kind of shirt.  I think one guy offered to buy me a Georgia shirt, but he slurred his words so bad I was not sure.   

The pain of being a “Foreigner in a Strange Land” hit when the game started.  When Florida made a great play, I was the only one standing to cheer.  Several thousand fans in red would turn and look at me.  I could hear the expressions on their face: “What are you doing over here?  You should be with your own kind.”  Of course, when Georgia made a great play, everyone around me would stand, so I had to stand to see.  I stood most of the game. 

It was not Florida’s year.  Georgia is ranked number one in the nation and has an incredible defense.  In the last three minutes of the first half, the defense forced turnovers, and Georgia scored three quick touchdowns.   

The Georgia fans around me were kind.  With good humor, they razzed me with “How ‘bout them Dawgs!”  Georgia fans are also prone to bark like dogs when their team does something well.   A couple of Georgia fans remarked, “This is not your year.” 

 At the end of the third quarter, the Florida Band struck up, “We are the Boys From Old Florida.”  I stood and looked for someone to join me, but I was all alone.  I swayed by myself and sang the words at the top of my lungs, one lonely Gator blue shirt in a sea of red. 

 The Georgia fan seated next to me (not my friends William and Bob) punched me when I sat down and said, “I admire you.  Got to stay true to your school even if you are getting whipped today.”  It was a very gracious thing for him to say.

 I left shortly after the fourth quarter started. I had to drive two hundred and fifty miles and work the next day (occupational hazard – I work Sundays).  As I left, I had two thoughts.  Jesus said, “I was a stranger, and you took me in…”  I was a stranger in the Georgia stands, and they were very kind.  I thought, “If we can be kind during a football game, why not the rest of life?”

 My second thought was about standing by myself to sing a song dear to my heart.  I thought about the old hymn, “Stand Up, Stand Up, for Jesus.”  To be loyal to your soul, you need to stand for who you believe in, even if you stand alone.