Remembering Andy Johnson, who excelled on and off the field

The first time I saw Andy Johnson play football was on a cold Saturday night in Valdosta in 1969. Athens High was playing Valdosta for the state championship. It was probably the greatest high school game ever, at least for those of my generation. Fittingly, it ended in a 26-26 tie.

The next fall, Andy and I would move into the same dormitory — McWhorter Hall — at the University of Georgia. He was an up-and-coming football star and an authentic golden boy and legitimate BMOC. I was manager of the basketball team and probably the most unworldly person to ever matriculate at the university.

None of that mattered. Andy befriended me and treated me like a prince. I have one story that will demonstrate everything anyone needs to know about the kind of person he was and would always be.

I suffered an injury in an automobile accident and would need major surgery in the spring of our freshman year. I was determined to try and finish spring quarter first, but I could hardly walk more than two or three steps at a time. After about the second day back on campus that quarter, when I walked out of my last class of the day on North Campus, Andy just happened to be driving by the front door of my classroom and offered me a ride back to the dorm. This saved me lots and lots of steps and lots and lots of pain.

The next day and the next and the next, Andy just happened to drive by my building as I left class. In fact, for eight days in a row — until I finally gave up and left school to have my surgery — the most popular football player on campus altered his own schedule to make sure that the basketball manager didn’t have to try and walk across campus or catch a bus.

That’s who Andy Johnson was.

Yes, he was an amazing athlete. He will always be remembered as one of the greatest UGA quarterbacks to ever play the game. The touchdown drive he led against Georgia Tech on Thanksgiving night in 1971 was enough to make him a legend. Who can forget his touchdown run against Tennessee in 1973?

“Andy gonna give it to Harrison. He fakes it. Touchdown Andy Johnson! Touchdown Andy Johnson! Touchdown Andy Johnson!”

Larry Munson always said that was the call that “cemented” his relationship with the Georgia fans.

Andy would go on to play for eight seasons in the NFL — as a running back!

He could have probably been a pro at baseball as well, or even tennis or golf. His athletic ability was as natural as his smile, which was always there.

My lovely wife, Lisa, and I were traveling with Vince and Barbara Dooley — 6,500 miles from Athens — when we got the news that Andy had passed away. It wasn’t unexpected. We had discussed Andy and his diminished condition frequently during our trip. Coach Dooley had last seen him at a G-Day function for lettermen and indicated that although his body was obviously failing him, that Andy was as full of charm and grace as he’d ever been as he held court and visited with his friends and teammates. Coach Dooley said that Andy was the greatest natural athlete he ever coached and was greatly saddened to hear of his passing.

Barbara Dooley, never at a loss for words, looked across the dinner table at Vince and said, “You know, you owe Andy to me. I recruited him for you. He came to the house every Thursday night his senior year and I cooked him dinner and helped him pass Shakespeare. It was me and Andy and King Lear every Thursday night. But I had to tear him away from the kids to tutor him. They loved Andy.”

Everybody loved Andy, and for good reason. In addition to being a great athlete he was a great person who epitomized the Golden Rule and tried to treat everyone the way he would have liked to have been treated.

Andy leaves behind his wife, Chot and three children, Kristy, Brent and Brooke. I am sure I speak, on this subject, for the entire Bulldog Nation as we offer sympathy and share in your grief.

We have an expression among the citizenry of that nation. DGD.

Andy Johnson was a Damn Good Dawg — and an even finer human being.