You may have heard; Georgia has a new press box.

The old facility gave way to premium seat locations for donors which has been a trend regarding the media in latent years—something which has taken place in stadium enhancements and enlargements across the country.

I did not take a poll last weekend for the opening game with Tennessee Tech, but did not hear any major complaints. Naturally, change requires adjustment which means that somebody doesn’t like the new press digs.

What everybody appreciated was the fact that the press box now recognizes two UGA icons who were different personalities but had the same modus operandi—accommodating the media so that its membership has the best opportunity to cover Georgia football on game day without any hitches.
The press box has two levels, one named for Dan Magill and one named for Claude Felton.

When I arrived on campus in the fifties, the press box was a three-story cinderblock, jerry rigged, added on space with a rooftop for film photographers. It was centrally located just behind the 60th row of the original stadium.

It was adequate, but cold in winter. It wasn’t too hot in that the first home game was usually played in late September. In addition, there were trees surrounding the old press box which kept it in the shade most of the football season. Kickoff for games in that era was 2:00 p.m.

In 1964, I became Magill’s full-time assistant, perhaps the first full-time assistant in the Southeastern Conference. The reason had to do with the fact that Magill was also the Secretary of the Georgia Bulldog Club and tennis coach—one man doing three full time jobs.

(There were no women’s tennis teams at that time, and women were not allowed in the press box except for those who were Western Union teletype operators.)

All writers sent their type-written stories to their papers by Western Union except the Athens Banner Herald. When the game was over the Banner-Herald sports editor went to the offices on Hancock Ave. and wrote his game story, avoiding the cost of Western Union transmission.

There was a Western Union ticker in the old press box which provided updates on the weather and scores of other games around the country.

In those years, Georgia Tech was still a member of the Southeastern Conference and played Alabama in late November on the same weekend that Georgia always played Auburn.

In 1959, following Georgia’s sensational defeat of Auburn on a 13-yard touchdown pass from Fran Tarkenton to Bill Herron, the stadium went wild with celebration.

With the “other” game in Tuscaloosa being played in the Central time zone, the final score came in over the ticker about nightfall, revealing that Alabama, on the way to prominence under second year coach Bear Bryant, had come from behind to defeat Tech.

With the news, Magill jumped up on a bench and shouted, “doubleheader.”

One Saturday, I was summoned by the late Harry Mehre, who had coached at Georgia and Ole Miss but later became a columnist for the Atlanta Journal. “Listen! How nice that they still remember the old coach.” I was puzzled, so he gave me a hint. “Listen to them calling out my name, Coach Mehre.” Suddenly, I got the message. It was the Coca-Cola carriers, shouting, “Cokes here, Cokes here.”

There were no colorful stories about Claude Felton as it was with the remarkable Magill and the clever, Mehre. But if you asked the celebrated, writers and broadcasters about who was the best at media relations and accommodations, Felton’s name would likely come up. It would be the same if you polled his fellow Sports Information Directors across the country.

When it comes to the naming of things for people, no institution has ever been more on target than the University of Georgia by appropriately recognizing these two men. Both are the ultimate when it comes to “Damn Good Dawgs.”