Preaching the Gospel of Grits and Gravy

Let me preface this by saying that I’m the worst kind of SEC fan.  I don’t have the pedigree and owe full disclosure to all who read this.  I understand that I’m a lesser being.

I was born in Jersey, moved to North Carolina when I was one and have spent most of my life surrounded by and immersed in an Atlantic Coast Conference world.  When I was a boy, I chose to give allegiance to the local ACC team, Wake Forest.  Thus began a long, painful childhood as I patiently waited for Charlie Brown to finally kick that elusive football.  As you might expect, I spent a majority of my formative years trying to find a rooting alternative for the times when the mighty Deacons made me throw stuff.

Thank you, Uncle Doug, for moving to Knoxville.

As a result of my favorite Aunt and Uncle’s move to East Tennessee, I’ve been able to live a double (sports) life since 1982. I’ve lived and worked in ACC country while dating the SEC on the side.  By the time I was 18 I was convinced that, among other things, football was created up North but made over by the Almighty and given to the South a long, long time ago.  I have an unexplainable affinity for Weigel’s convenience stores and Pilot fuel stations, and understand the fuss being made over the return of Krystal to the Strip.  My sports bucket list includes the Iron Bowl, a Saturday night game in Death Valley and the Cocktail Party in Jacksonville.  I root for SEC teams in bowl games and silently bask in their victories, only because it justifies my allegiance.

Not only does this double sports identity expand my horizons, it gives me a better perspective on the culture of both conference fan bases.  That’s a nice way of saying that by and large, ACC fans have a lot of work to do to get on the Southeastern Conference’s level.    And because I know this, I get to torture them.

"John" and "Shawn". "Roll, Tide."

For instance, I work with two guys who are fans of the University of North Carolina.  We’ll just call them “John” and “Shawn” (because their names are John and Shawn).  They are typical UNC fans (not alums) but are intelligent, rational folks who simply cheer for the team they have loved since birth.  They are polite fans, hating only Duke and N.C. State.  Additionally, they are intrigued by my recent foray into sportswriting and are always at my desk asking questions.

As a result, they now end every sentence they utter with, “Roll, Tide.”

They don’t even know why.  It may be because I told them about Paul Finebaum and his famous callers.  It may because of that sickening, yet funny ESPN commercial featuring Bammers in various situations uttering those two words.  Perhaps it’s a result of having a Bama fan as our network administrator, working off-site from his home in Mississippi.

His name is Bryant.

In any event, it is my goal to have my two friends questioning both their allegiance to the ACC and their manhood by the start of the 2013 football season.  I want them to root for their favorite ACC team this year, while telling their family and friends how an SEC team would eat them for lunch.  I want them to tell folks about the superiority of Golden Flake potato chips, despite the fact that neither of them would know what Golden Flakes were if I went upside their head with a bag.

The guys already check this site regularly.  I’m going to do this.  It will happen.

There is this myopic, albeit funny, view that ACC fans have of their basketball product.  The group think is that the rest of the country views ACC basketball much like it does SEC football.  They are sadly mistaken.  For one, college basketball has become an increasingly regional entity from the dawn of cable television to the advent of ESPN 3.  Additionally, the product as of late hasn’t been all that great.

Granted, the conference has produced national champions in the recent past but there is normally isn't any buzz beyond the teams in Durham and Chapel Hill.  Frankly, if the sports-viewing public had their choice of watching Duke play Carolina in basketball or watching the SEC Championship football game, they probably watch football.  Them’s the facts, and it rankles ACC old-timers.  For many folks around here, the sports world revolves around the old-money Atlantic Coast Conference.

That’s why it’s my job to preach the Gospel.  The Gospel of Grits ‘n’ Gravy.  So, with my ears tuned to the Swain Event, my eyes on Outkick the Coverage and a Tennessee football calendar watching o’er my shoulder, I shall make the unwashed see the light.  I will preach about all that is good and sacred about God’s conference.  And make them all end conference calls by accidentally saying, “Roll, Tide.”