One Old Dawg on being a blocking dummy and other less than desirable experiences

One Old Dawg, Jerry Varnado, describes his experience after moving up from the freshman team to the University of Georgia varsity with five words:

“I was a blocking dummy.

I was so beat up and tired, I wanted to do something to get out of the last week of spring practice in 1963. I decided I’d fake sick. Everybody knew what the symptoms of the flu were. I went to the infirmary; a nurse stuck a thermometer in my mouth, and when she left, I rubbed the thermometer on my shirt to drive up the temperature. When she returned, it read 103 degrees. The doctor came in, and I gave him symptoms of the flu. He said ‘I can’t release you back to the dorm.’ So he put me in the flu ward with about eight other guys who had it.

 

The food was terrible, so the next day, I called a friend of mine to bring me a hamburger from the Arctic Girl.”
 
Later in the night, that call proved to be ill advised when that hamburger made another appearance. He had the flu."Those nurses wondered where a hamburger came from," One Old Dawg laughs. He stayed in the infirmary a week and though still weak, was released the night before the G-Day game.

The first and fourth teams were paired against the second and third teams. This was in the days just before the NCAA changed the rules, and players still went both ways. Jerry was at the bottom of a list of eight ends and was confident that position insured he wouldn’t see a minute of playing time. He still hadn’t fully recovered from his unfortunate illness.

However, halfway through the first quarter, the end coach benched the first end, and pointed to Jerry. He went in with the first string.

One Old Dawg says, “Larry Rakestraw (All SEC, Chicago Bears) was the quarterback, and I’ve never seen anybody who could throw the ball harder.” He holds up a hand. “I had broken blood vessels on my hands from catching four of Rakestraw’s passes. I ran one of those passes thirty yards just to keep somebody from hitting me.”

At the end of the game, that guy who caught the flu earlier in the week and had just left the infirmary caught some press including a mention on television.

The unexpected events of that G-Day game were perhaps a personal foreshadowing of what would happen in the years ahead, those first years with Vince Dooley at the helm when One Old Dawg saw the star of University of Georgia football rising in the SEC and in the nation.

Jerry would hitch his wagon to that star.

However, physical setbacks continued to plague Jerry in 1963.

Just before reporting for fall practice, Jerry and a high school football buddy, Rusty Griffin, dropped by the Valdosta High School summer camp at a 4H facility in South Georgia. 

Rusty and Jerry

One of the coaches asked them to dress out and scrimmage with the players.

“The third team quarterback got hurt, and coach asked me to play quarterback which I’d never played before. Coach called a pass, and I dropped back to throw one. The lineman broke through, blocked the pass, and the ball came back and hit me on the end of my ring finger. Man, did it hurt. My finger wound up being broken in several places. 

I went to the trainer at UGA, and he sent me to Atlanta, because there was no orthopedic surgeon in Athens. The doctor first tried to splint it, but the next day, they did surgery and put pins in to hold the bone together. I asked the doctor about (UGA) football camp. 

‘Absolutely no way do you go to camp, and you stay home till school starts. I’ll tell the coaching staff what the situation is.’

I got in my car and drove home to Valdosta.”

Doctors told him that if he further damaged the finger, he might lose it. In every practice during that fall of 1963, trainers taped a big white X on One Old Dawg’s shoulder pads meaning he was ineligible for contact. The week of the Auburn game, he finally came off the sidelines, when someone was injured on the B team. His return to practice was short-lived as Jerry slipped on steps and sprained his ankle.

Because of his injuries, by the end of that fall, he had practiced only one day the entire season. The Bulldogs had another losing season ending at 4-5-1.

Head coach Johnny Griffith resigned.

When One Old Dawg was asked what he learned that first year on the varsity besides never to lie about having the flu, he laughed and said, “Back to Romans 5. Persevering through those first couple of years and being willing to stay in there to do what I had to regardless of adverse circumstance—that builds your hope— I made it through this, so maybe I’ll make it next year and get playing time. I began to look forward to the next year and the possibility I’d do better. I proved to myself that I could make it. I learned the truth of what Bazemore said, 'When you get knocked down, get back up. . .'

 

You can’t let this moment’s failure block your vision of tomorrow’s victories. You’ve got to put the game behind you, and say that’s over and done. Next week we’re going to do better.”

Though no one knew it at the time, things were definitely about to get better.

Headlines in the Athens paper broke on December 3, 1963.

“Vince who?”

Put on your red and black as One Old Dawg holds court again next Wednesday. He’s getting ready for the big event—the kickoff against Clemson between the hedges at Sanford Stadium.

Remember, you can always count on us here at One Old Dawg for the finest mostly true Bulldog lore.