ATLANTA — Feats of strength? There goes Georgia defensive tackle Jalen Carter into the LSU backfield, lifting quarterback Jayden Daniels in the air with his left arm and simultaneously holding up an index finger on his right hand. That man-among-toddlers sack has defined the Bulldogs’ 2022 season.
Feats of ferocity? Here come four offensive linemen or tight ends to hammer Auburn defenders, turning a tackling standstill of running back Daijun Edwards into a pile-moving, extra six yards gained.
Feats of physicality? Watch the Bulldogs’ defensive backs jam Tennessee’s speedy wide receivers off the line of scrimmage and tackle menacingly in space, in accordance with coach Kirby Smart’s “nowhere to run, nowhere to hide” theme for that November showdown game.
Feats of brutality? They were everywhere in last year’s Orange Bowl, from receivers recording pancake blocks to running backs blasting through tacklers to linebackers snapping back the heads of Michigan offensive linemen—punishing the very unit that won the Joe Moore Award for the best line in the country.
Watch Georgia football and you see these blunt-force feats every week. The Bulldogs are fast, they are cleverly schemed, and they are confident. But more than anything else, they are the biggest, baddest, meanest, nastiest Dawgs in America. They hit hard, all the time.
“Don’t ever underestimate the power of physical toughness,” Smart shouted to his team in the locker room after punking Tennessee. “Physical toughness wins in football now. And if you in this room? You got it. And if you coming here? You better believe in it.”
Modern football is less excessively violent than it used to be, which is a good thing. But it’s still a collision sport. Win the collisions, win the games. It’s not a coincidence Georgia has won 15 straight and is the reigning national champion. There is a beauty to the Bulldogs’ brutality.
In Smart’s program, there is no choice, no alternative, no soft route to playing time. If you wear the “G” helmet, you must relish the physical DNA of football. You don’t turn down hits. You don’t go down easily. You don’t arm tackle. You don’t tap out in the second half as the collisions pile up. The Bulldogs recruit to that hard-edged standard, coach to it and compete to it.
“If [players] don’t like contact, Georgia’s not the place for them,” co-defensive coordinator Will Muschamp says. “I can tell you that.”
