Buddy Martin Blog: Why They Don’t Fear The Swamp Anymore —Maybe Because We Don’t Remind Them Enough.

My conversation with The Statues about The Swamp making a comeback. But first a few words about 50 years of experiencing Gator football: Photo By Chris Spears

As I slid into my spot in what is loosely known as the Norm Carlson Press Deck where I’ve been hundreds of times before -- this time in seat #130 -- it was both nostalgic and a bit disparaging. This is not your father’s press box, given the lofty privilege it was once accorded. When I started it was just called Florida Field, with no other names, and we could actually see the scoreboard from the middle of the field.

Honestly, as a young’un though, it felt like I was walking into the Sistine Chapel back then. It has gone from being hallowed ground where the gods of sports writing once roamed, crafting Grantland Rice-like leads or channeling Dan Jenkins verbiage, to an atmosphere not unlike a Sonny’s takeout cubicle or a Walmart waiting room.

The people in the press box are not that influential anymore and sometimes I wonder if we are even wanted or needed. I’m aware that most people don’t care and many think the press should pay for their seat, which I’m willing to do – only we’d have to cut our coverage in half.

The purpose of this blog is not to whine about working conditions, or the logistical nightmare of just getting to and from the now-almost remote media parking lot in East Archer or East Afghanistan (they feel about equidistant). I just want to acknowledge the issues of all college football fans who are just tired of the expending time, money and energy for the right to sit in 100-degree heat, wait in line to take a whiz, pay Ritz Carlton prices for beverages and snacks, followed by 90 minutes to get out of the parking lot.

It’s probably better for some of us to stay home and watch it on our 85-inch TV where you can flip around, see replay, hear Mick and Lee on a seven-second delay and take a 10-minute snooze at halftime after a couple of cold ones. And then hook up for the Zoom press conference. Unless, of course, your rich friend has a skybox. And I’m afraid that one day it will only be available for the wealthy.

Carlton Reese and I were there, but contrary to what you've heard the press box is no longer "The Sistine Chapel."

That said, I also firmly believe that almost like beach erosion, the years are eating away at some of our most treasured and beloved traditions of college football because the stories of not being passed along to next generation. And sometimes it just ain’t fun.

Granted, there are many excellent new things worth encountering since 1990 which have been added for diehard Gator fans. Who doesn’t relish the rewind traditions like being led in cheer by a Mr. Two Bits lookalike, singing Won’t Back Down with the late Tom Petty, mingling around during the Gator Walk and tailgating with friends who were lucky enough to get within a couple of miles of the stadium?

I do love the three Heisman statues and look forward to the day when Steve Spurrier, Danny Wuerffel and Tim Tebow can be joined by a fourth, so they can have a foursome for golf and bridge. Who knows? Maybe one day it will be Anthony Richardson’s turn.

Covering Florida football all these years, however, has been among the most rewarding beats for me both in the Spurrier and Meyer eras. The 90s will always be special because they bore the first SEC titles and first national championship, which should always be celebrated, and produced two of those statues. As Ike Hilliard said, "At the end of the day, we ruled the SEC those three or four seasons."

Meanwhile, over the years I’ve dropped by to visit the statues, as I recently did for this simulated conversation on The Swamp’s lack of respect and perhaps seeds of revival:

Me: Coach Spurrier, you named it The Swamp, but we haven’t heard much about that home field advantage anymore. Maybe that game vs. Alabama was a bit of comeback?

Spurrier: Yeah, we tried to turn it into a big advantage for us in the early 1990s. Sort of like LSU did when I played – loud, boisterous fans, Mike The Tiger roaring, those crazy Cajuns on a Saturday night after getting juiced all day. We did pretty good at making The Swamp hostile. And I hope the Gator crowds will continue to be hostile in the hot, sticky Swamp atmosphere.

Me: Pretty good? Your teams were a remarkable 68-5 at home over 12 seasons. And after you left, Urban Meyer went 38-5 in six years. That’s only 10 home losses in 18 seasons! Fear The Swamp! Other than not winning as much, how come it went away after that?op

Wuerffel: I’ll tell you why. Kids today tend not to embrace history as much. And frankly they don’t want to hear about it. For one thing there aren’t many conversations at the dinner table. These kid are very much about the present – or the future, if they’re NFL material. But they knew about it when Timmy here was playing for Coach Meyer.

Tebow: How could I not know about it Danny? I grew up with you as my idol, and my admiration got even stronger watching you and Coach Spurrier winning all those championships. So we knew all about The Swamp.m

Spurrier: That’s why I say you should always celebrate championships and make them come alive. We’re having reunions for some of our teams at the Tennessee game (celebrating the 1995 and 1996 anniversaries of winning conference or national titles) and I’m excited to celebrate it with them.

Me: Seems we need to do a better job of storytelling for the next generation. Maybe the reason that Alabama fans and others don’t Fear The Swamp anymore is they don’t know about it. Those stories need to be told over and over.

Spurrier: Isn’t that the job of the sportswriters?

Me: Do they have those anymore?