'Sweet Home Alabama' not as sweet as it used to be It Makes Sense to Me By Craig S. Wysock Assistant Sports Editor April 09, 2004
When I was a little kid, I used to always make my parents turn the radio up when "Sweet Home Alabama" started to climb through the speakers. I even cranked the chords up myself when I got old enough to manage my own sound machine.
But now, after experiencing four years of life (i.e. athletics) at the University as a fan and a sports reporter, I'm stepping outside the Bama box and saying it's time to turn Lynyrd Skynyrd's ode to "Sweet Alabamy" down a few notches.
By no means am I cracking on the band -- far from that, actually.
I've got three Skynyrd albums, and "The Ballad of Curtis Loew" is one of my favorite songs on one of my favorite albums (Second Helping). And I've always liked Southern rock.
Hell, I've seen Skynyrd four or five times live.
But I digress...
Who in his right mind can say that after hearing a song thousands of times, round 1,580 evokes the same sort of emotion as the first few times the music danced into his ears?
And by that same token, who can actually say his senses are stirred with the same gusto every time he experiences a particular sight, smell, taste, sound or feeling?
The basic message I'm trying to convey is that things, over time, lose their luster. The excitement surrounding a particular stimulus fades. Opinions change as age and experiences increase.
And as I've gotten older and experienced four of the most tumultuous years in Crimson Tide sporting history, an innocent bystander might think I'm bitter. No, I'm not bitter, but it's something awfully close. I don't hate the song. But I really, really strongly dislike it.
Am I blaming the song for all the losses I've had to endure? No. Just like I wouldn't give it credit for all the wins.
However, "Sweet Home" has gone from a tune that evoked some sort of personal pride (I was born in Huntsville, and have lived in Alabama for all my 21 years), to one that reminds me of mediocrity. Skynyrd's anthem to the Heart of Dixie is chock-full of negative connotations for me now.
It echoed throughout the stadium the afternoon Central Florida beat us on Homecoming a few years back...
I still remember hearing 80,000 sets of teeth chattering as they tried to belt out the lyrics when Auburn shut us out in what could easily be tabbed the worst Iron Bowl in history...
And the chorus' familiar twang added the frosting onto "Sweet Home's" cake for me last fall in two overtime tragedies against Arkansas and Tennessee.
Funny thing, though, when I sit back and think about it: Even if the good had outweighed the bad, I'd still be tired of the song.
If we would have won piles of national championships, been blessed with an army of All-Americans and never lost a game, I'd still want to throw a brick through the windows of Alabama Express (that gift shop next to Buffalo Phil's) when "Sweet Home's" turn came up on the store's soundtrack-like loop.
Seriously, it's as if "Sweet Home" is haunting me. Limiting the abuse to only sporting events would be one thing, but I can't even go out on this campus without hearing it at least three times on any given party night.
Whether I find myself at a frat gathering, any of the bars in town or a circle of friends with a keg in the middle, the odds of crossing paths with Tuscaloosa's favorite song are about as good as finding bourbon in Bryant-Denny Stadium come October.
And yeah, I used to be on the Beam Diet. And yeah, I used to have a blast belting out "Roll Tide Roll" with the rest of the fan base during the chorus. The key being "used to."
In comparison, I remember a point in my life when shooting spitballs and popping a girl's bra straps were forms of entertainment, too.
Times change.
Anyway, I refuse to associate my anti-climatic sports memories with particular players or coaches. So, steering clear of the tangible, I'll drive this rant right into the intangible. I hate doing it, but "Sweet Home Alabama" has become my Tide sports scapegoat. Every time I hear it now, I think of what might have been.
So all I'm really asking for is a quota. Instead of having to play the damned thing 20 times, is two or three too few to ask?
Maybe that's what I get for investing so much into something I can't control.
Who am I kidding, though? I'm a Neil Young fan.
Craig S. Wysock is an assistant sports editor for The Crimson White.
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