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.

One Old Dawg and how he almost didn't make it to Georgia

Fifty Years.

That’s how long it’s been since Vince Dooley coached his first game for the University of Georgia, and One Old Dawg, Jerry Varnado, ran out on the gridiron for that inaugural game.

Dooley’s arrival back in December had been somewhat unheralded. Not exactly the warmest welcome.

No one was cheering, either, when Jerry arrived at Georgia two years before in 1962. He was little, 165 pounds, “dripping wet,” as he says. He wasn’t very fast, and he didn’t have a scholarship.

He had played football for the legendary Wright Bazemore at Valdosta High School. His senior year, the Wildcats were state champions, the middle year of a three year streak of state championships. The polls put them at number two in the nation--an illustrious launching pad.

Yet, Jerry, a self admitted “late bloomer” only started for the varsity that one year. He began his high school career on the humble JV—years fraught with adversity.

“Freshmen year in high school was rough. Early in the year at practice, I had a collision with another player, and the bar of his face-mask hit me right in the nose. Broke my nose. Had to go to the doctor, have this packing put in, and had to breathe through my mouth. I went back to practice that  day and asked Coach Bazemore if I could have another face-mask that'd protect my nose so I could still practice. They put another face-mask on there, but a day or two later I had another collision.

That face-mask broke, and it raked up my face. When it did, the tape on it grabbed my two front teeth and pulled them to a right angle. I had to go back to the doctor; he cut out the teeth and stitched up my gums. I went to Bazemore, again, and this time I got a big cage like the lineman wear, so I finished up the year. But that year started pretty rough.”

After two years on the JV, One Old Dawg made the varsity as a junior, but didn’t see playing time until his senior year. An injury caused him to be assisted off the field.

Here’s Jerry again, “I told Dr. Branch on the sidelines I hurt my back in two-a-day practice before the season started, but it got better and didn’t bother me too bad until someone hit me directly in the back during that game. The severe pain came back, but it did get better. Dr. Branch wanted to see me in his office Monday morning.”

Turns out, x-rays indicated Jerry had two vertebrae that had been cracked so long, they were already showing signs of healing. Dr. Branch told him he didn’t know if he’d ever play football again.

One Old Dawg says, “I left the doctor's office and drove around crying for two hours.”

A week later on his return visit, the doctor took more x-rays and when he looked at them he said, “Well, it’s not as bad as I thought. You’re cleared to play.”

Jerry went on to play in that state championship with Valdosta High.

Bazemore was fond of saying, “When you get knocked down, get up. You lay on the ground, you get stepped on, or you get the ground itch.” Jerry took that to heart and his senior year, Coach Bazemore gave him The Sportsmanship Award, because he never forgot how Jerry had played through his injuries across the years. Bazemore said of him, “You can’t beat that kind of sportsmanship.”

Jerry wanted to play football at the University of Georgia and attended Cowboy Ball at the Kappa Alpha house at UGA the spring of his senior year. Later, after he played in the high school all-star game, he was offered the promise of a scholarship at another SEC school. But he made another trip up to UGA. Previously arranged members of the Georgia Girls showed him and other prospective players around the Classic City. Jerry’s escort was a beautiful young woman who would later become a television personality and the wife of a well-known country music singer. That pretty much cinched his desire to come to Georgia.

So, with the promise of a scholarship later in the year, Jerry turned down that other SEC school, came to Georgia, and walked on.

When asked what spiritual lesson he derived from his injuries during high school. He said, “It’s Romans 5, ‘suffering produces perseverance, perseverance, character; and character hope.’ Perseverance is a discipline. If you stick with something, it leads to character and hope.

I wasn't all that good at football anyway. Those positions I was fast enough to play, I was too small, and those I was big enough to play, I was too slow.

I had encouragement, though. One practice, Coach Bazemore chewed me out a lot. I was down in the dumps. In the locker room, I heard, 'Hey Doc.' (He called everybody Doc but somehow you knew when he was talking to you.) 'Don’t worry about it when I chew on your tail, that just means I haven’t given up on you.' I figured if he hadn’t given up on me I shouldn’t either. After all, he was the one of the most successful coaches in the country. 

And there was my dad. Many a day I'd see him slip into the stadium after a long day at work  to watch practice. He never once said a word about my being on the JV squad."

It's  true Jerry didn't have size or speed or many other things one would look for in a scholarship player. However, he had tenacity. 

It had served him well at Valdosta High, but he couldn’t have known in the fall of 1962 how much he was going to have to dig down into that same well in the years ahead.

Join us here every Wednesday through football season at One Old Dawg. He’s warming up the recliner, stocking up on the popcorn, and getting ready to spin some of the finest mostly true Bulldog lore you’ve ever heard. 

We’ll be watching for you.

Go Dawgs!