I write this from Knoxville on the evening of the third Saturday in October, the day divinely chosen for the Tennessee-Alabama game.

Like it used to every year, and again this year, this game matters to Tennessee and Alabama fans like family matters, like breathing matters. This year, both were undefeated and ranked in the top 10. This year, this game mattered nationally.

Vols defeat Alabama on field goal to end 15-game losing streak

By the time you read this, this game will be long over. By the time you read this, I may be able to talk. Maybe. Three hours of screaming is hard on your throat. Your heart rate. Your blood pressure.

As I write this, pandemonium reigns.

In this game, more points were scored against Alabama than in any game since 1907. By Sewanee.

In this game, 101 total points were scored. If you went for popcorn, you’d miss two touchdowns. If you turned around to see what that was that the young woman behind you just poured down your back, you’d miss a turnover.

I did, and I still don’t know what was in that cup. And I hope it was in a cup.

Calkins: Tennessee beats Alabama! It was the leg!

Then ... with 15 seconds left, Tennessee ran three plays, kicked one butt-ugly knuckleball field goal, and beat Alabama for the first time in 16 years.

The stadium exploded. Thousands upon thousands of fans flowed out of their seats and onto the field like a Big Orange river. And at least one goalpost ended up in the Tennessee River.

College football matters to many nationally. College football in the South doesn’t simply matter, it is the measure of a year, each week a mark.

Now, to paraphrase Hoagy Carmichael and Willie Nelson, Georgia is on my mind.

Like it did in 2020, Georgia matters. To our psyche. To our souls.

As I’ve written before, it first mattered to me in 1968.

Calkins: A Tennessee fan even Memphis fans can root for

Georgia scored again while I was throwing up.

Georgia and I had already done these things several times in the preceding three hours, but, like Tennessee, I didn’t think I had anything left to counter this time. Late, very late, in the fourth quarter, our offense had gone ice cold, and we were down by eight — and my temperature was red hot, up by two.

The governor, the first Sen. Gore, a gaggle of congressmen … even the head tire kicker at Goodyear whose blimp hovered above … were watching from various swell box seats.

Millions were watching on TV and even ABC’s saccharine Chris Schenkel (this guy makes Jim Nance sound like the grim reaper) thought UGA had this one all wrapped up.

I was watching from the couch in the ATO house tube room, alternating between teeth-rattling chills and wind sprints to the john, all wrapped up in a blanket.

Memphis well represented when No. 6 UT faces No. 3 Alabama

It was 1968 and the first and only home game I would miss in my four years at UT. It was the first and only home game UT wouldn’t win during those four magic years. It was our first game played on artificial turf — dubbed Doug’s Rug for Coach Doug Dickey. It was the very first game and the very first catch for No. 85 in your Tennessee program, a shy sophomore from Nashville named Lester McClain.

It was a remarkable game.

Bubba Wyche (is that a good quarterback name, or what?) was staring at fourth down. Fans poured from Neyland Stadium, resigned to lose, and the clock ran faster than any of our backs had all day. He let the pass go, and McClain pulled it in at the Georgia 48.

First and 10, Tennessee. First ever, SEC.

That pass gave us a chance, gave us hope. It changed the game and the way the game is played.

U of M’s first Black football player will be honored at Tulsa game

Lester McLain is Black. Two Black players had gone before him at Kentucky, but neither had lettered since you couldn’t play varsity as a freshman, and their careers were ended by injury and heartbreak. Lester’s roommate his freshman year, also Black, didn’t come back his sophomore year.

So, with that catch, Lester McClain broke through the varsity football color line in the SEC and moved the chains.

It was an amazing game.

Later in the drive and facing another fourth down, Bubba moved the Vols to the line quickly and fired a touchdown pass to Garry Kreis as the clock rolled up all zeros — and I knocked over a pitcher and fell off the couch. Bubba then hit Ken DeLong for the two-point conversion, and Tennessee tied Georgia — as Chris and I, and those few loyal, hopeful fans still in the stadium, all went insane.

I charged to the front porch, blanket flapping and heaves forgotten, and screamed at the throngs headed to their cars, completely unaware of the final result, and staring unbelievably at the leaping, ragged frat boy specter before them bearing the improbable news in boxers and blanket:

“We tied! We tied!”

It was a miraculous game.

Memphis International hosts exhibit from legendary civil rights photographer

1968 was the symbolic year of the tragedy of Martin Luther King Jr. in the spring, of Bobby Kennedy in the summer, and of the hope symbolized in one young man catching a ball in the fall. When Lester McClain caught that fourth down pass, he wasn’t Black or white. He was orange. And he was red, white and blue.

On Nov. 5, Tennessee will play Georgia, and I, of course, will be for Tennessee.

Three days later, on Nov. 8, Georgia will go to the polls to vote in the midterm election, and I will, of course, will be for the courageous people of Georgia.

This contest matters.

2022 is a symbolic year for our nation. Again, a football player is a symbol. Not this time of progress, not this time of hope, not this time.

Ballot Basics: Early Voting Oct. 19-Nov. 3

If this former Georgia football player wins, not only will Georgia lose, but the entire country will also lose.

In 2020, Georgia’s Republican governor and election officials courageously held the line against an unprecedented national assault — including threats to their families — by their own party and the President of the United States to overturn a fair and lawful election.

In 2020, the voters of Georgia, against all odds, gave control of the United States Senate to Democrats, flipping two Republican seats. Against all odds, they sent Raphael Warnock — a Black man from Martin Luther King Jr.’s own pulpit — and Jon Ossoff — a Jew and now the youngest senator — to the Senate.

In 2020, against all odds, the voters of Georgia gave Kamala Harris — the first woman vice president and the first Black vice president — the Senate’s deciding vote.

This wasn’t a game; this was a national game changer.

Political Roundup: Emancipation Sunday urges voters to remove slavery from state constitution

On Nov. 8, the voters of Georgia could send Herschel Walker to the United States Senate.

His only positive accomplishment has been the ability to hold onto a football while fumbling marriages and businesses and fatherhood, lying about and hiding the parentage of multiple children, fighting accusations of abuse, and being unable to deliver a coherent speech about, well, anything. His only qualification is the endorsement of Donald Trump, with whom Mr. Walker shares some of those dubious accomplishments.

If he should win, make no mistake, Georgia as a state, the Republicans as a party and we as a country will have made a new statement.

Character doesn’t matter, honesty doesn’t matter, decency doesn’t matter, ability doesn’t matter, experience doesn’t matter, family doesn’t matter.

Only power matters. And whatever and whoever is necessary to acquire and/or retain it will now be allowed without penalty.

Early voting for local, state, national general election begins on Oct. 19

Pitiful Herschel Walker should be a symbol in both Red and Blue of just what this game has become.

If he scores in Georgia, we should all throw up again.

I’m a Memphian, and I’m hoping Herschel Walker is thrown for a loss.