More than 2,000 people walked through the Sanford Stadium gates Saturday morning to honor Larry Munson — the man known as the voice of the bulldogs for more than four decades.

University President Michael Adams spoke at Larry Munson's memorial service. He said Munson told him, "Every momma wants their boy to go to a good school." Staff

Fans, Georgia head football coach Mark Richt, former coach Vince Dooley, University President Michael Adams and members of Munson’s family all attended the memorial.

To loved ones, Munson was a man of many interests and the center of treasured stories, many of which were told at the service.

“He delivered our triumphs and tragedies, our thrills and agonies, and did it in a variety of ways,” Dooley said.

He recalled when he first wanted Munson to announce for the Bulldogs after hearing Munson’s broadcast of the Tennessee and Vanderbilt game:

“‘He hit it, watch it, watch it, watch it,’” Dooley recalled from the tape. “‘Oh my god! That dumb SOB missed it!’ Anyone who could think that fast we wanted him on our team.”

While Dooley has never officially heard any of Munson’s calls from his time as a coach, he said he heard a few of them during fishing trips they took together.

“We never caught any fish, but it was fun being with him because he fished like he called games,” Dooley said. “He would say to the worms: ‘Hunker down worm.’”

Family friend Charlie Whittemore knew a side of Munson most rarely saw, speaking about his religious convictions and love for hunting and fishing.

“I’m gonna miss sitting in my driveway with him, smoking a cigar with him, drinking a beer with him, but most importantly I’m going to miss my friend,” he said.

Munson’s sons Jonathan and Michael took a turn saying a few words.

Though many have wondered what it was like being the son of a legend, Jonathan said Munson was just dad to them.

On one occasion Jonathan remembered his father visiting him and having to slam on the breaks when a car abruptly stopped in front them, to which Munson said: “Don’t kill me. I’m famous.”

To Jonathan, his dad’s reactions weren’t unusual.

“Whether it was ‘sugar falling from the sky,’ ‘hobnail boot,’ or ‘Don’t kill me. I’m famous,’ He had a knack for saying how he felt at the moment,” Jonathan said.

In a video shown at the memorial, Munson said he wanted his legacy at the University to be thought of as the “12th man on the team.”

“I like the sound of it when I heard it,” Munson said. “That I might be Georgia’s 12th man.”

Throughout his tenure, there are few who would argue he didn’t become part of the team.

Many first heard him on radio outlets in Nashville, Tenn. when he was a sports commentator for the minor league baseball team the Nashville Vols and Vanderbilt University.

President Michael Adams, one of the attendees at the memorial, remembered Munson’s calls from the time when he lived in Nashville, but noted “he became one of us.”

Adams recalled one conversation in which Munson told him as the University gets better the football program will too — something Adams kept in mind for years to come.

“Every mama wants their boy to go to a good school,” Adams said Munson told him.

Just as Munson shaped Adams’ vision for the University, he shaped Tony Barnhart’s sports journalism career. Barnhart, sports journalist for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, wrote Munson’s biography shortly after Munson retired.

Barnhart, then a student sports reporter, recalled not knowing what to say when he first met Munson.

So, Munson spoke first — “Kid, we’re in deep trouble here today,” Barnhart said Munson told him.

After, he said he knew he would never meet another announcer like Munson.

“An original talent, a nice man, and yes, a one of a kind,” he said.

Georgia Tech announcer Wes Durham, who couldn’t be at the memorial, delivered a video message for his friend saying those who lived through Munson’s famous calls have a particular challenge.

“As people who are Georgia fans or in the [sports broadcasting] business have a unique opportunity,” he said. “We are charged with making sure the next generation knows Munson’s calls.”

Munson died on Nov. 20 from complications of pneumonia at age 89. He leaves behind two sons, Michael and Jonathan, two granddaughters and a host of friends.