Glory, Glory.

Much well deserved ballyhoo in Athens over the opening tomorrow of REED PLAZA ( aka REED ALLEY ) from UGA Pubic Affairs : Athens, Ga. – " Reed Plaza, the newly renovated concourse on the north side of Sanford Stadium, will be dedicated on Friday, Sept. 3 at 4 p.m. on the Sanford Drive side of the plaza. Reed Plaza is a pedestrian area connecting Sanford Drive and East Campus Road at the foot of Reed Hall and Memorial Hall. Speakers for the dedication include UGA President Michael F. Adams; Greg McGarity, director of athletics; Mark Richt, head football coach; and Drew Butler, junior punter. The ceremony will be followed by a reception. The pep band, cheerleaders and mascots Hairy Dawg and Russ will be on hand to provide entertainment before and after the program. In addition to providing an additional 30,000 square feet of athletic patron space with greatly expanded restrooms and concession areas, Reed Plaza also will be used on non-game days for student affairs activities and outdoor lectures. Parking for the event will be available in the Tate Student Center Deck." ( Full story as well from the Banner-Herald )

( It took me a second too, RUSS is the interim Uga. )

It is going to be just what it says, a lovely open plaza- sort of like Fenway Park in Boston or Camden Yards in Baltimore, both places I have been, and the whole scene is just lovely. It will be much more crowded and rowdy at this new plaza, but a welcome addition to the gameday experience, I'm sure. But, let's put on our way way back hats and try to remember Reed Alley's most infamous day, ever.

This may be hard for some of you younger readers to believe, in this time of airport strip searches, but many, many years ago you could take, pretty much anything into a University of Georgia football game. Any date worth taking would forsake her red and black Bermuda bag, for some big old honkin' tote that could carry your ( in our case ) quart of bourbon. I can remember back in high school, when on that sacred Winder-Barrow Hill, people brought in 12 packs of beer. ( you could pass stuff through the fence or lower it from the bridge, people had whole picnics set up ). No opening of purses or patting down guys trousers.

We were Evan Williams people. Always giving Evan a new name for each home game. A couple I recall were ( and we were SO un-pc ) Wayne Williams ( killer bourbon ) and Wendy O. Williams ( punk bourbon ). Everyone walked in, and put their bottles under their seat. ( it also, back then, did not matter where your actual seat was in the student section ) and just freely poured. I mean think about it , security at the time was MR DODSON, the book store guy. Row after row of bottle after bottle, every once in a while there would be a kid whose parents were not from around here with rum, but really, bourbon was king, and life was good.

Ok, this is where things get fuzzy. I do not know the exact date of Reed Alley's most infamous day, ever. I am not even really sure of the year. I do have it down to two, maybe.

1983 or 1984.I am leaning towards 1983, because if it had been '84, I would have been more a part of it, but I am getting ahead of myself in the story.

Football Saturday routine. Wake up, get dressed, wait on Susan, hit the Red and Black for your game day booze. I am sure , even with my pickled memory that this was a day just like any other. I'm going to go with Kyle, Susan, Jimmy and Dedee, piled into the 2002 , parking on Pope Street and made our way to the game, bourbon in Susan's purse. Back then student and dates could only use the Reed Alley entrance, have no idea about now, so it was a big cluster of a bottle neck, always. Spirits were always high, as were the vast majority of the kids. Now remember 99% of the students going inside this day are packing alcohol, and for the first time EVER the " they " are checking for it !!

WTF ?! Panic goes through the crowd as the word gets passed back, once you got into to actual confines of the alley, past Memorial hall you could smell it. Thick , sticky, unmistakably Bourbon, all in the air. The closer you got, the thicker the smell until you came upon the most unholy site ever : the vast river of amber love rolling down the alley and out into East Campus Road. I am not kidding, an actual creek of bourbon , that you had to jump over, was forming as the rent a guards were breaking bottles and dumping bourbon! The thing was , once you made it back to the gate, there were hundreds and hundreds of people behind you, there was no going back. Your game day buzz was going to be what ever you were feeling at the moment, and I was close to an expert at my timing. Minimal Bloody Mary buzz pre game, maybe a few beers if we tailgated, going on to the pure Autumn glory that was a watered down real coke , half bourbon, in a Poss' cup. Reason for living .

Why?, why now?!?. How could this be happening, had the Russians taken over Athens? Some sort of crazy temperance movement run amuck. I mean, sure, being the mid '80's we were loaded with all sorts of other mind altering substances, but COME ON, this was our birth right as Southerners!

Very few knew that the previous home game a most drunken Chi Psi, unknown at the time, had thought he could clear the entire stadium with his empty HALF GALLON of Ancient Age bourbon. Really. He just knew that , for what ever reason he could throw his bottle into the hedge or onto the field itself FROM the upper deck of Sanford Stadium. He did not quite make it, and well.. there was a little bit of blood. Really, no one was hurt all that badly and had the girl that he hit not have been a rum person ( not from around here..) I am sure the whole thing could have been settled with some nice warm banana bread being delivered to her.. but no, it became a really big deal. Which lead the following game to the sad river of bourbon.

From that day on things got much more strict. Bags were checked, pant legs felt up. We all learned to get by on airplane bottles or sealed baggies pulled from crotches of khakis - mixing your drink in the freaking nasty mens rooms!! The decades of Laissez le bon temps rouler were over.

Now, we all know the name of the then unknown Chi Psi, and for a few years after that, I all but lived at said unknown Chi Psi's parents house on the weekends. But that day, he was still a mystery. That is why I am leaning towards it being 1983, because I would have been there for the weekend of hell that followed for his family in '84. Death threats galore as folks found out his parents address and phone number. People took the loss of their bourbon seriously.

So, as all the luminaries - and Kevin's son - gather there in once gloomy Reed Alley to welcome in the new Sunshine and cash registers of Reed Plaza, I do hope , at least, a moment of silence will be held, for the loss of innocence that was Reed Alley's worst day ever.

Glory, Glory, indeed.